As Book One finally draws to a close, Joan has her first visit to the beauty parlor. Joan and Sam's relationship deepens as the story continues to unfold...

Chapter 23

Let’s Spend The Night Together

No need for an alarm this morning. Saturday had finally arrived. Based on everything I’d already done, I had no idea why I was so excited about getting my hair styled. I guess in a sense it expressed my commitment to being Joan. I made my way to the bathroom and showered carefully. The razor quickly removed the bit of stubble from my legs and the few stray hairs in my arm pits. Thankfully, I still had my beautiful baby face and no shaving was required.

I couldn’t believe it was only 7:00 AM as I looked at my alarm clock. I decided to get a head start on the laundry and made the trip to the basement with a basket full of clothes. A whining Shandy interrupted me on my journey and I let her out. She’d rarely let me pass by without making some sort of request on my time. I gave her a hug before releasing her into the back yard. It was time to choose an outfit. I wanted to look my prettiest. Still, I wasn’t going to wear my new pink dress. That would have been way over the top. I hesitated for a moment before selecting my blue pleated skirt. I hoped Darla wouldn’t think I was copying her. This was not a morning for dressing casual. To be taken seriously, I was going to have to wear my high heels as well. It was closing in on 8:00AM before I had everything sorted.

Time to wake up Mom! I figured if we were going to stop at the bank before picking up Darla, we’d better get a move on. "Mom! Time to wake up!" I roused her from her slumber.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed. "It’s Saturday!"

"Yes Mom, it’s Saturday and I’ve got an appointment at the beauty parlor, remember?" I said hoping that it would be enough to rouse her. She shook herself awake and headed downstairs. Damn! I’d forgotten to put on the coffee. She sat at the table and seemed lost to the world. I started a fresh pot and ran down to the basement to put the clothes in the dryer. When I arrived in the kitchen Mom was still sitting at the table staring off into space.

Thank god for the stop and serve feature on the coffee pot! I poured her a cup and delivered it to her waiting hands. "Mom, you enjoy your coffee. I’m going upstairs to get dressed" I told her firmly. Back in my room I got dressed in record time. I was really starting to get the hang of this. I found myself thinking of ways to spend money that I’d not yet earned. New earrings were at the top of my list. I sprayed myself liberally with cool water before making my way daintily down the stairs in my high heels. I think it was my appearance more than the jolt of caffeine and nicotine that finally awoke her.

"You look nice Joan," was all she said.

"Thanks Mom, but you’d better hurry or we’re going to be late! Remember, we have to stop at the bank before picking up Darla." I was anxious to get my new bank account under way.

She finally lightened up a bit and offered me a chuckle. "All right already! Message received!" She arose from the table and made her way up to her shower. While I waited for her, I found myself going over the hairstyle choices again. I found the entire prospect exhilarating! I made my bed and placed the bears on top of my pillow. I then sadly remembered my promise to give Jola back to Darla. I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "I’m gonna miss you girl," I said to her. I hoped Darla really appreciated this. It seemed more than a bit strange that I’d become so attached to an inanimate object.

At precisely 9:00 AM Mom came down the stairs and asked me if I was ready to go. A certain nervous tension was building in the pit of my stomach. "I’m ready," I said and grabbed my bag and the teddy bear. I chose not to consider the consequences of my actions as we made our way to the bank. I took the signature cards and made my way inside promising Mom that I’d only be a minute. Mrs. Holley smiled at me as I approached her desk. I handed her the cards and she eyed me suspiciously. Did I look like a bank robber or something?

"My Mom’s waiting in the car," I informed her without being asked. "I have an appointment at the beauty parlor in a few minutes. Is there anything else you need?" I asked impatiently. Mrs. Holley glanced out the window to see that Mom was indeed waiting in the car for me. It seemed the old lady didn’t trust me!

"No dear, that will be all. You should receive your ATM card in the mail in the next week or so."

"Thanks Mrs. Holley," I said with a bit too much enthusiasm. I walked slowly out of the bank.

"You were in there for an awfully long time," Mom said as I returned.

"Grown ups," I replied and laughed. I was surprised to find that Mom knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Well, let’s go pick up your friend and get this show on the road," she said as we pulled out of the parking lot. We arrived at Darla’s home with a few minutes to spare. I hated to be late for anything. That was one generally male characteristic that I refused to give up, I thought and laughed again. I took Jola from the back seat and carried her tenderly to Darla’s front door. I rang the bell and waited.

Aunt Viv answered and said, "Oh my! You look adorable." I blushed a bit and thanked her. She looked me over a little more carefully before asking me if I’d borrowed my skirt from Darla. I laughed and told her that it was all mine.

Darla finally came down wearing jeans and sneakers with a pretty white lace top. "Come on Darl!" we’re going to be late!" I urged her. I’d totally forgotten about Jola, though I was holding her in my hands.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to give her back to me." She reached out gingerly to accept Jola in her arms. I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about the poor little bear again. "Mom, is it ok if I leave the teddy bear downstairs till later?" she asked.

"Of course dear," her mother replied.

"Did you decide how you wanted your hair cut?" she asked me.

"I’ve got a few ideas," I told her as we made our way to the car. Aunt Viv ran out and insisted that Mom and I stop back when it was all over.

"So, are you ready to do this sister of mine?" Darla asked me. I didn’t want to think about it too much. I was afraid that I’d chicken out. We finally arrived at the strip mall where the Hairport was located. Sure I’d been to unisex salons before, but never anything quite like this. From all I could see, male customers were few and far between. Mom walked up to the counter and announced our arrival. The receptionist told her that Mindy would be with us shortly.

"I hope you appreciate that I made this appointment with Mindy specifically," Mom informed me. I didn’t think it was all that important just who did the job, though I could remember having received a few bad haircuts along the way.

"I hope she knows what she’s doing," I said and laughed hesitantly.

A few minutes later Mindy arrived and greeted us. "You must be Joan," she said as she greeted Darla. Somehow, I thought that didn’t bode well for the experience. Mindy laughed and then looked from Mom to me and back again. "Yes, of course! I can see the resemblance." That calmed me down a bit. I tentatively took a seat as requested. She spun the chair around and tilted it backwards.

"Wait, I just washed my hair this morning."

"I can see that Joan," she said. "That’s why I’m going to do it again; only properly this time." I had no idea that there was a wrong way to wash one’s hair. In fact, I still don’t get that one. My hair hung a few inches below my ears, not quite touching my shoulders.

"Tell me about your lifestyle," she asked as she gently massaged my scalp. I took that as a good sign. She wanted to know what I expected from a haircut. I told her of my desire for a feminine but easy to care for hairstyle. She laughed and replied, "if only it were that easy." Meanwhile Mom and Darla sat chatting, looking at magazines and sipping house coffee. I began to feel guilty about dragging Darla down here for this.

"I’ve got a book and picked out a few hairstyles that I thought might work," I told her meekly.

"Do you trust me Joan?" she asked. I looked over to Mom for some guidance with that one. Mom simply bobbed her head up and down.

"I guess?" I replied warily.

"Well sweetie, for this to work, you’re going to have to trust me," she said and laughed. She pulled my hair back tight and began examining my face. She moved her head from side to side as if my head was crooked or something. "Who’s been cutting your hair dear, the butcher?" she asked me and laughed again. I was about ready to rip the smock off and storm out of there. She read the look and told me to just relax and calm down. "Joan, I could tell you step by step what I’m going to do, but you wouldn’t understand it anyway. What say you just let me do my job?" Mom and Darla just continued chatting away in the background. Again I thought to myself that if worse came to worst, I could always shave my head. I laughed at my own insane thoughts. Mindy took that as a sign of submission and placed a plastic cap on my head.

She purposefully kept my eyes from the mirror. "I don’t want you looking until I’m finished!"

"OK, but please remember: pretty, simple, and easy to care for?" I said pleadingly. She laughed again and went to work. My head was bathed in foul smelling chemicals. Why is she putting chemicals on my head to cut my hair, I wondered? I considered asking her, but I knew she’d be insulted and this person would be responsible for the way I looked for some time to come. I sat there silently.

"So, are you dating yet sweetie? I’ll bet a girl as pretty as you is breaking all the boys’ hearts," she finished. Darla heard her remark and started laughing. She then whispered something to Mom and she began laughing as well. What was going on here?

Fortunately, Mindy’s comments were of a rhetorical nature and a response from me was not required. I was grateful for that, cause I have no idea what I would have told her. Sorry Mindy, I’m not into boys. I laughed at the thought and she swatted my head and told me to keep still.

"Your nails are very pretty," she told me. "Do you care for them yourself?" I decided in an attempt to keep her happy to provide a response.

"Yes, I do, and thank you!" I told her sincerely.

"Have you ever thought about extensions?" she asked.

"For what, my hair?" I said. She laughed again.

"No silly, for your fingernails." Now I was getting worried again. I’d told her about my summer job. I could see myself attempting to sand wood with fingernails that resembled talons. I reminded her of my summer position. She wondered why a pretty girl such as myself would spend her summer working with wood. I felt like asking her why she spent her life working with hair, but my future appearance hung in the balance.

"Ok sweetie, now look at me!" I did. "You’ve never done anything with these eyebrows, have you?" she asked as she attacked the hair follicles above my eyes.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed.

"Don’t be a baby," she insisted. "Now just hold still!"

"I like them bushy!" I told her hopefully. "Who’s the stylist here?" she asked me. "Just be quiet and think happy thoughts." The only happy thought I had at the moment was escaping her chair. Funny how something as simple as the tweezing of a hair can bring one back to reality. What was I doing here? All right, I wanted to look pretty, but this was starting to overwhelm me. Five minutes later she was finished with my brows. I tried counting the individual number of pulls, but soon lost count. Besides, that seemed to make it hurt even more.

She took my face in her hands. "Let me look at you," she said. Let her look at me? What had she been doing for the past hour and a half? She smiled at her creation and asked me if I was ready to take a look. Mom and Darla came over with ear to ear smiles glued on their faces. Instead of reassuring me, their smiles made me all the more nervous.

"Mindy, you’ve outdone yourself," Mom said to her. Darla took my right hand in both of hers and squeezed it tightly. That too made me nervous. It seemed to herald a substantial change in my appearance. I was curious, but in a way, I didn’t even want to look. I was definitely on overload.

"OK Joan, here we go!" she exclaimed as she spun the chair around to face the mirror.
"Oh My God!" escaped unintentionally from my lips. Was that really me in the mirror? It couldn’t be? I twisted my face all out of shape. The young lady in the mirror did the same in return.

"No one will doubt that you’re a girl now," Mindy said. She knew! I was totally mortified! "It’s all right honey, but you do have a slight Adam’s apple. It’s not really noticeable till you stretch your head all the way back," she said. Great! I thought. I wasn’t fooling anyone except myself. Why had she said that to me? Her comments sent me into a tail spin. We’re going down, I thought to myself.

"Earth to Joan," Darla implored. My mind arrived back on the scene just as Darla was about to smack me. "I wouldn’t have hurt you Joan," Darla said sheepishly. "I just thought you were going into a state of shock," she said and giggled. She was right about that.

"Well, what do you think?" I found myself trying to form words. Here I was wearing a bra, a pleated skirt, pantyhose, and three inch heels. Yet, I was more concerned about what had been done to my hair. Life was indeed strange. A sudden thought occurred to me. What if Dad saw me now? I quickly pushed that particular thought out of my head.

"I think I look beautiful," I said in an awestruck tone.

"Then there’s nothing wrong with your eyes sweetheart," Mom said knowingly. My hair was parted just off center. Blond highlights shone throughout. It was cut in a way that leant to a natural inward curve at the bottom.

"Sweetie, let me show you how to use a curling iron. That curve on the bottom isn’t going to take care of itself," said Mindy as she anticipated my thoughts.

There was no way in hell I could disguise this cut for anything other than what it was: a girl’s hair style. Part of me was elated. Another part was terrified. I just wanted to run and hide. After careful examination, I realized it was the delicate arch of my eyebrows more than anything else that defined the overall look.

"Do you love it?" Mindy asked me. She couldn’t do me any further harm.

Still, I found myself replying, "Yes, I do. Thank you!" Her look told me that she never expected any other response. "Do we have a curling iron Mom?" I asked as we made our way to the front desk to pay the bill. Mom laughed at that and told me that we’d pick one up on the way home.

It was totally unexpected, but Darla held my hand as we walked back to the car. "Are you alright Joan?" she asked me. I honestly wasn’t sure. What could I say? I’d asked for this. At least, I thought I’d asked for this? Why was I so confused? A soft calm settled over me.

"Yeah Darla, I’m fine," I said and meant it. She could tell by the tone of my voice that I was sincere and she heaved a sigh of relief. Mom missed the entire thing. She just assumed that I should be ecstatic with the results. We stopped at the pharmacy on the way home. Mom told us kids to wait in the car. I think she was afraid that I’d want something else. I didn’t want to think about how much the trip to the Hairport had cost. I only knew that it hadn’t been cheap.

She came back with her purchase. "Darla, can you show Joan how this works?" Mom asked her as she handed her the iron.

"No problem, Aunt Joan," Darla informed her. I found it hard to believe that Darla had ever been anything other than what she seemed: a beautiful young girl. She must have had serious feminine tendencies before the accident which claimed her manhood.

We arrived back at Darla’s just after noon. I remembered my promise to call Sam when I got home. I didn’t know how long we were going to be at Aunt Viv’s, but I decided not to say anything for the moment. "Come on Joan, let me show you how that thing works," Darla said as Mom and Aunt Viv became engaged in chat. She held my hand again as we ascended the staircase. I thought back and remembered the first time she’d done that. It seemed like years ago. She looked at me and smiled. Somehow I figured that she’d had the same thoughts as well.

"Joan, you really are a knockout!" she said to me.

"That was never my goal," I informed her sincerely.

She laughed at that and muttered, "yeah, right. Just stay away from Sarah!" I laughed at that and told her she had no worries in that department. She laughed with me.

She filled the slender tube with water and plugged it in. As it began to yield steam she showed me how it worked. I took it from her hand and tried it out. It was a no brainer. I would be able to style my hair quickly and easily. "Thanks Darla," I said.

"You really picked up walking in heels quickly," she told me. "Maybe you should try out for the cheer leading squad?" she teased.

"Me, a cheerleader? I don’t think so," I said and we both laughed.

"Your boyfriend’s going to love your new look," she said knowingly. How did she know I was thinking about Sam, I wondered?

"Am I that transparent?" I asked her.

"It’s all right Joan," she said and wrapped her arms around me. Next thing I knew she was kissing me passionately. Why was I so drawn to her?

"Darla wait!" I exclaimed. She stopped and looked at me as if I’d beat her with a stick. "Why don’t you go and retrieve Jola from the foyer?" I suggested trying to get her mind off of her hurt.

She walked out of the room with her head hung low. "Darla wait!" I said again. She simply continued walking. I ran to her and spun her around. "Darla, don’t do this to me," I begged. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her even closer.

"Oh Joan," she sighed. She began crying softly in my arms.

"I’m sorry Darla," I said hoping she’d understand what I meant.

"It’s all right Joan," she replied and hugged me even tighter.

"I thought we were sisters?" I said and chuckled softly. She considered the absurdity of the situation and laughed along with me. "I do love you, you know, you silly goose," I said to her with a mixture of passion and sincerity.

I just wanted to make everything "right" for her. I knew that I couldn’t, but would do my damnedest to try. I held her as she continued weeping softly in my arms.

"Let’s go get Jola and bring her up here," she said at last. I’d have done anything at that moment to make her happy. Her simple request made it easy for me. We walked hand in hand down the staircase and retrieved the teddy bear who sat quietly in a chair waiting for us. "Thanks Joan for returning her to me," she said. If I’d known how much this simple toy had meant to her, I’d never have kept it for my own. I felt guilty for putting my own needs above another’s.

"I’m just glad that she’s back where she belongs," I said with heart-felt sincerity.

She held my hand and we walked into the kitchen. Mom and Aunt Vivian were still engaged in conversation. The room was filled with smoke. "You guys are going to set off the smoke alarm," I said and laughed.

Aunt Viv said, "Joan, let me get a look at you!" "Wow!" was all she had to say. A look of pride shone on Mom’s face.

"Thanks Aunt Viv," I said sheepishly. She smiled at me and insisted that Darla and I join them. Grateful to avoid more awkward moments with my "sister", I gladly complied. Darla poured a cup of coffee for each of us before sitting down at the table. She took one of her mother’s cigarettes and lit it as a matter of course. I sat there stunned at her behavior. Darla laughed aloud.

"Joan, after what’s already happened to me, I doubt that a cigarette’s going to make a difference," she said and exhaled a plume of smoke.

It wasn’t so much that she was smoking, but that she was doing it in front of our parents! Had we some how stepped into the land of Oz? She sat there puffing away and held the pack out to me. Hey sister, if this is what you want to do, good for you. Just don’t include me in your insanity, my look told her. She laughed in reply and removed another cigarette from the pack, lit it and handed it to me. Fine! I accepted her offering and held it in my hand. Maybe now she’d stop? My mother looked at me as if she had no clue as to what was going on. Aunt Vivian just sat there and watched the show with her eyes dancing about in merriment.

Darla inhaled deeply and urged me to do the same. I held the tube at arms length. "Joan!" she said sternly as smoke bellowed from her nose.

I laughed at her appearance and replied, "Yes Darla?" as if I had no idea what she was going on about.

Suddenly, out of nowhere my mother’s voice sounded. "It’s all right sweetheart," she said to me. The look of laugher never left Aunt Viv’s face. I just wanted to scream for HELP! But I knew that none would be forthcoming. I tuned all of them out as the cigarette continued to burn in my extended fingers.

"Joan, it’s all right," Darla said. What’s all right, I thought? Nothing’s all right! Get me out of here! Why were they all doing this to me? Was this some kind of test? Was I passing, or failing? Did I even care? I placed the cigarette in the ashtray and began pinching one arm with the other. A futile project that I’d attempted more than once before.

The cigarette continued to burn. Darla picked it up and placed it to my lips. "Take a puff," she ordered. Why?, my mind screamed at them. What the hell was so important about this?

I began singing, "I’m the only sane one here, sane one here, sane one here," and started laughing hysterically.

"Just do it!" Darla said again. Fine, if that would get them to stop, I would. I sucked on the foul weed and expelled the smoke. They all seemed placated by my maneuver. Amazing! I thought. Why had that been so important? And why, were they all being so insistent? This was far beyond my capabilities. I just didn’t get it. The three of them became engaged in conversation and I was once again ignored, if only for the moment.

Of course, I soon found myself puffing away with the rest of them. This all seemed so wrong! I lost myself in thoughts of Sam. Perhaps he’d save me from all of this? At the moment, I didn’t think that anyone could save anyone from anything. The three of them nodded approvingly at my acceptance of their strange behavior.

"I just knew you had it in you," Darla said and laughed. Mom and Aunt Viv both nodded knowingly. I just wished that I knew what the hell they were all going on about.

"Mom, don’t you think it’s time we went home?" I asked her.

"Why Joan, your Aunt Vivian has ordered a pizza for us, it should be here shortly," she replied. I had no idea that any food had been ordered. Where the hell was I when that had happened? What was going on here? "Help!" I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I knew that no one was listening.

Moments later the pizza arrived. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was. I’d not had any breakfast. Besides, pizza was my favorite food in the universe. I couldn’t believe that I actually felt full after finishing my second slice. Was my stomach shrinking? The others sat there nibbling away and chatting contentedly. It was now after 1:00 PM and I just wanted to go home. I needed to talk to Sam. I couldn’t broach the subject again. I’d seem like a whiny ingrate if I did. Besides, Darla would probably take offense. I sat there silently and waited for things to wind down.

With lunch finished and everything put away, Mom began the smoking routine again. I’d had just about enough of this. "Mom, do you mind if I walk home? I have some things I’ve got to take care of," I told her sternly. She didn’t get the message. I sighed aloud. I felt like a two year old stuck on a lengthy shopping trip with a crazy lady. A good part of my feelings rang true. I sighed again.

"Let’s go out back Joan," Darla said to me. Anything had to be better than sitting in the kitchen and listening to my insane mother ramble on. Without a word I rose from the table. I made my way out the back door. Darla followed close behind. "I’m sorry Joan," she said. I could tell by her tone and the look in her eyes that she meant it.

"It’s alright Darla," I replied.

"I thought your cousin Dani was staying with you?" I asked not having seen Danielle in attendance anywhere.

"I’m sure Dani’s on the beach somewhere," Darla replied. "It’s impossible to keep that girl away from the ocean and from the boys," she said laughingly.

"Ah!" I replied unable to think of anything else to say. "So, you really think I look all right?" I asked her with serious concern in my voice.

"Well, if your goal was to look like a hot teen-aged babe, I’d say you’ve outdone yourself," she said and laughed yet again. I wasn’t really sure just what my goal had been. I only knew that I wanted to look "pretty." Was that so wrong? Darla sat there looking out across the pool.

"How’re things going with you and Sarah?" I asked her in my feeble attempt to make small talk.

"They’re ok, I guess?" she replied. I could see that such a simple question wasn’t going to draw her out in the least.

"Well, personally, I think she’s a total nut job," I told her conspiratorially. She laughed at that.

"You should hear what she says about you." I wasn’t going to waste any brain cells worrying about that dizzy bitch’s opinion of me. I still couldn’t understand just what Darla saw in her.

"Darla?" I asked her. "Why Sarah?" I said with genuine concern and interest in my voice. She sighed audibly and started in with the cigarettes again. If she kept this crap up, I was going to ditch her permanently. "No Darla, I don’t want a cigarette," I told her firmly. She looked at me like I was rejecting her totally. Why, I wondered? What was wrong with this person? I felt ever more grateful for having Sam in my life. No wonder she got on so well with my mother. They were both totally insane!

"You are aware of what will happen if you don’t begin hormone therapy pretty soon?" she asked me. Why did she bring that up now?

"Yes Darla, I’m aware," I told her.

"Well if you want boobs as pretty as these," she said and waved her not quite B cups in my face, "you’d better get started!" I laughed at her and told her she was insane. Surprisingly, she agreed with me. "I wasn’t always this way," she said her voice full of sorrow.

"Joan, I’ve never known anyone like you before," she said with a tone of admiration in her voice. I didn’t think myself unique in any way. Even with my gender confusion, I still thought of myself as a normal teen.

"I could say the same Darl," I told her. She smiled at me and took my hand. I’m not sure why I was such a sucker for hand holding, but I was. I guess it was a connection, a link if you will, that couldn’t be established with just anyone. Holding someone’s hand always made me feel safe. Darla’s hand grasping mine was no exception. "I really have to get going," I told her.

"It’s all right Joan. Just go. I don’t think Mom or Aunt Joan are going to miss you."

"You will tell her I’ve left?" I asked her. She laughed at that and told me not to worry. She thanked me one more time for returning Jola to her and oddly enough, thanked me for inviting me with her to the beauty parlor.

"Thanks for accompanying me," I told her. I felt like a stranger in a strange land.

We said our goodbyes and I began the long walk home. Well, it seemed like a long walk in three inch heels. I could see women wearing these things to attract someone, but as a practical matter, they weren’t useful at all. Several times I considered removing them and walking barefoot. I was wearing pantyhose though and knew how delicate they were. They’d never stand the strain of more than a few steps. Twenty minutes later I arrived at my front door. I half expected to see Mom’s car in the driveway. It wasn’t. I went inside and Shandy ran up to me. She looked at me and started growling. It took me a minute or two to convince her that she knew me and knew me well. She whined in apology. "It’s all right girl," I told her and hugged her close.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her and knew her response before she could react. "Come on!" I said and click clacked my way into the kitchen in my spiked heels. Even the sound of the things made me feel so grown up! I fed and watered the dog and made my way upstairs for a nap. I knew I’d have to call Sam before fading away. I found myself in Mom’s room and stole a cigarette from the pack lying on her night stand. I lit it and inhaled tentatively. I wasn’t choking! I felt a rush as the nicotine hit my blood stream. I became concerned for my health. I grabbed Mom’s ashtray and walked slowly back to my room. The Peters’ phone rang a few times. At length, Sam answered.

"That you Joan?" Sam’s voice greeted me. I took a puff and told him that indeed it was me. "What are you doing?" he asked. I felt like telling him I was smoking a cigarette and chatting with him.

"Nothing Sam," I said, "and you?"

"You want to go for a walk on the boards?" he asked me.

"I’d love to Sam," I replied, "but, I really need a nap. Could we do it in an hour?"

"I guess?" Sam replied. "Baby needs her nap. Wouldn’t want to walk the boardwalk with a cranky baby girl," he said and laughed.

"Thanks Sam," I said taking no notice of his sarcasm. "I’m going to set my alarm now to awaken me in forty-five minutes. Will you pick me up?" I asked him.

"Pick you up? What the hell are you talking about Joan?" he inquired somewhat incredulously. I laughed at the seriousness of his tone.

"Just be here in an hour’s time," I informed him. I kissed him silently through the wires and hung up the phone.

I wasn’t going to undress. The twins atop my pillow seemed to be mourning the loss of their sister, Jola. I told them it was all right. Everything would be just fine. Thankfully, they both smiled back at me in unison. Yes, I’d clearly lost my mind. I put Mom’s ashtray back in her room after emptying it and jumped on my bed as carefully as I could. I didn’t want to wrinkle my outfit. I took off my heels knowing that I couldn’t wear them to the boardwalk and found myself drifting off to sleep with no trouble at all. I awoke holding Josam in a tight embrace. I smiled at her and rolled over to give Teddy a hug. He seemed none the worse for having been neglected. I knew I wasn’t being rational with regards to these stuffed toys, but somehow they seemed more real to me than events that were actually taking place.

I had just a few minutes to make myself ready before Sam would come ringing the door bell. I quickly put on my Mary Janes and applied a proper coat of Sam’s "fearless fuchsia." My hair still looked perfect! I sprayed myself liberally with "cool water" and walked into the hall. I grabbed yet another of Mom’s cigarettes and put it in my purse. I already had a pack of matches in there. It was now after 2:00 PM. Mom still hadn’t arrived home. If it hadn’t been so early in the day, I’d have been worried about her. I inspected myself in the mirror one last time. I looked as good as I was ever going to. The door bell rang. "Sam!" my voice sang and my heart leapt. I ran to the front door and opened it for him.

"Joan?" he inquired. "Is that you?" My smile broadened as his lack of recognition let me know that he appreciated what I’d been through.

"Yes Sam," I whispered. "It is I." He wrapped his big strong arms around me.

"Let me look at you!" he exclaimed. The color of my face soon matched the dark red lipstick adorning my lips. "I can’t believe it!" he said. I assured him that it was indeed me and that he could in fact believe it. "I almost feel jealous," he said. Now this was really strange. Those words emanating from his lips made me feel sad. I knew he’d intended them as a compliment. I tried my best to accept them as such, but part of me was immersed in sorrow. I felt like I’d failed him and myself somehow.

"What do you really think Sam?" I said and burst out laughing. "It’s still just me, you know?" I said with a certain amount of serious sadness.

"Let’s get out of here," he said impatiently.

"One minute Sam," I insisted. I decided that I had to call Mom and make sure she was all right. I rang her cell and she finally answered after the fifth ring. "Mom," I said. "Sam and I are going for a walk on the boardwalk. I should be home by 4:00 PM," I informed her. Not a peep of protest from Mom. I almost wished I’d told her that I’d be home later, but somehow I didn’t think she cared one way or the other.

"I still can’t get over how pretty you look Joan," he told me.

"I love you too Sam," I whispered into his ear while standing on tip toe. "Well, shall we go tread the boards?" I asked him.

"Let’s go!" he replied enthusiastically. He seemed to take special care of me that afternoon. Treating me as if I was a delicate flower that just might crumble if handled improperly. I wasn’t sure whether I liked that or not. Still, it felt good having him take control. I’d been making enough decisions of late. "Really Joan," he said, "you look so damned hot!" I thanked him yet again and told him enough already. He simply smiled in return. We soon found our way into the arcade with the cheap ski ball games.

"You want to play?" he asked me.

"Sure," I replied. "But not if you’re going to be a sore loser," I said in mock seriousness. His look told me that he couldn’t ever remember me having beaten him. I decided that I’d play, but let him win. Part of me felt like I was cheating myself, but I was quickly reminded that this was just a game and didn’t matter at all in the overall scheme of things. I’m not sure if I could have beaten Sam if I’d tried. He was definitely on his game that Saturday afternoon. The summer crowds had indeed arrived and there were people waiting for us to finish even as we played. "I give up Sam!" I told him. "You win!" He seemed mollified by my comments.

We exited the arcade and he asked me if I was hungry. That could only mean one thing. Sam himself was hungry. "I’d be happy to watch you eat sweetheart," I assured him. He laughed at that, grabbed my hand and dragged me off to the pizza place.

"Are you sure you don’t want anything Joan?" he asked again. I promised him that my stomach was indeed filled to capacity as he placed his order. "I guess I’m the next one to get a haircut," he said between bites. I laughed at his response. Yeah Sam, I thought. Why don’t you get a haircut just like mine? Somehow the picture of Sam holding a curling iron just didn’t work. I laughed at the image painted by my mind.

"You don’t think I could look pretty, do you Joan?" he asked me in a challenging tone.

"Is that how you want to look Sam?" I asked him. "You are quite beautiful to me."

"Aw," he said by way of reply. I smiled proudly and possessively knowing that he was mine.

"Did I tell you I love you Sam?" I asked him coyly. His smile told me that he knew just how I felt about him. I took refuge in that smile. He sat there chomping on his pizza without a care in the world. Something about him was puzzling me. I just had to ask. "Sam, what happened to your breasts?" I whispered. He laughed at that and informed me that "boys" had their secrets too. Just as he was finishing up a slight hunger pang hit me. I wasn’t about to yield to it. I’d had enough saturated fat for one day.

"Let’s go for a walk," he suggested. I smiled up at him as he rose and took my hand. "If m’lady is ready?" he asked gallantly. We strolled quietly out of the pizzeria hand in hand. "Come on Joan, I think a walk on the beach is in order." He led me over to one of the benches near a beach entrance. He sat down and removed his shoes and waited for me to do the same.

"Sam, I have to go to the bathroom," I told him.

"All of a sudden you decide that you have to go?" he asked me as if I was a two year old in need of a diaper change. I laughed at his remark and pointed to my legs. "Did you pee yourself?" he asked me and continued to stare. I laughed even harder. He was totally bewildered.

"Sam, I’m wearing pantyhose!" I told him.

"Oh," he replied still not making the connection.

"I can’t very well remove them here in public now, can I?" I asked him.

"I guess not," he said none too convincingly.

"Just wait here Sam, I’ll be back before you know it." He eyed me skeptically as I made my escape. I made it to the bathroom and entered one of the stalls. There were signs posted everywhere which read "No dressing or undressing in the rest rooms." Apparently you were supposed to pay some outrageous fee to use one of the bathhouses to accomplish that task. I sat there and removed my hose carefully. I placed them in my shoulder bag. Then, I finished up and headed over to the sinks. Quickly surveying my face, I was satisfied with my appearance. I began making my way back to Sam. A voice stopped me.

"Excuse me Miss," it said. "Can’t you read?" it asked. I had no idea where this was going. I turned around to see that the voice was coming from a police officer.

"Yes officer, I can read. What’s the problem?"

"I noticed that you were wearing hosiery when you went in and now your legs are bare," he said. I couldn’t believe it. What a bleeping pervert!

"You must be mistaken officer," I replied calmly. "I know better than to wear hose to the beach," I said. He grunted.

"Just don’t let it happen again. Next time, I’m going to write you a ticket." I thought if there ever was a next time, I’d simply wear the pantyhose till they fell off in shreds. I laughed as I then considered that I’d be ticketed for littering. What a crazy world! Thankfully Sam was still waiting for me when I returned.

"What was that all about?" he asked me indicating my brief conversation with the police. I told him. He replied with mock seriousness that I should indeed know better and laughed. I went to punch him on the arm. He moved quickly away before I could make contact. "Joan! You shaved your legs!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks for noticing Sam," I said with a touch of sarcasm in my voice.

There was no place left to garner any privacy. The summer season had officially begun and there were people everywhere. In a way I was glad to share the magnificent ocean with the world. In another way I wanted them all arrested for trespassing. I found myself getting more and more attention from all the boys. I was glad that Sam was with me. Would I even be safe walking alone, I wondered? Such thoughts had never entered my head before. They worried me slightly. I was still the same old me, but somehow things had changed.

"Here’s as good a spot as any," he said and stopped dead in his tracks. This part of the beach wasn’t nearly as attractive as the main sections. There were still far too many people circulating for my liking. "It’s always been like this Joan," Sam said indicating the crowds. I guess I’d simply never noticed it before.

He took my hand and pulled me down next to him. We sat and stared out across the ocean. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. "I love your perfume," he whispered. He’d actually noticed! I figured my scent was as invisible as my lipstick had been. I reached into my bag slyly and removed the small bottle of cool water. I gave him a full squirt on the back of the neck. "What the hell did you do that for?" he said angrily.

"I thought you loved my perfume?" I replied and began laughing.

"On you!" he said and began making a fist. I grabbed hold of his hand and gently unwound his fingers. With his hand fully extended, I rubbed it in both of my own. He reached over, moved my hair away and kissed me on the back of my neck. The kiss was nice but I found myself worrying whether he’d messed up my hair.

"Don’t worry Joan, your hair’s perfect." Not wanting to seem like a shallow bitch, I laughed as if I hadn’t a care in the world. He rubbed my back soothingly with his right hand.

"Don’t start something you can’t finish mister," I said playfully. He grabbed both of my arms in his own and pushed them behind me. I sat there feeling a bit helpless but excited too. With all the tourists milling about I wasn’t about to raise a fuss. He knew what I was thinking and took full advantage. He impaled my lips with his tongue. He released his grip on my arms and wrapped his own arms around me instead. "Oh Sam!" I exclaimed. "That feels so nice. But there are far too many people about. Please stop!" I begged. For a moment he seemed lost in his own desires. Finally, he released me. I wished that he’d hold me like that forever.

That was the message my eyes conveyed to him. We sat there and began looking out to sea again. It was a vain attempt to appear inconspicuous.

He stood and pulled me to my feet. Bits of sand remained trapped in the pleats of my skirt. It definitely was not beach wear. I hoped I hadn’t ruined it. "Your dress is going to be fine Joan," he said impatiently.

"It’s not a dress Sam. What planet did you grow up on?" I asked him half-seriously. His breasts which had protruded slightly over the last few weeks now seemed to have completely disappeared. I was determined to find out how at the next opportunity. "When are you going to get your hair done?" I asked him.

"Done? What do you mean done?" he asked. He knew perfectly well what I meant. He was just being an ass.

"Nevermind!" I grumbled. He laughed at that and told me he was getting it cut sometime next week. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Sam with short hair. I eyed him appraisingly. He was an enigma; both beautiful and handsome. I was only glad that he was mine.

"Do you like being a girl?" he asked me as we continued walking. I wasn’t quite sure how to handle that one.

"Well Sam, I’m not really a girl, you know?" I laughed and dodged out of the way anticipating a punch in the arm. He hadn’t moved a muscle in the attempt. His was a serious question. I sighed audibly and considered the question again. "Yes Sam, I do," I replied at last. "But, it’s so much more than that. It’s simply who I was meant to be." I said as my voice drifted off. He spun me round to face him. He hugged me with all his might.

"I know," he whispered as he released me. We made our way back to the boardwalk. I swore that I’d never wear my mary janes to the beach again as I attempted to remove the sand trapped between my toes. Had the boardwalk been in better repair, I’d have traversed it barefoot. Too many splinters in the past convinced me not to make the attempt. Better a few grains of sand in a shoe, than a piece of rotted wood extending from skin’s surface.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked me. I told him honestly that I wanted to go home and change. He looked at me like I was a mental case.

I laughed and said, "Well, you asked!" He took my hand and led me home. I continued to garner the attention of the male population. Not something I was happy about. Sam’s possessive look kept them all at bay. Finally, we arrived back at the old homestead.

"What time shall I pick you up later?" he asked me. What now? Had I agreed to something and not even realized it? "We’re going to the movies, remember?" he said in a tone of exasperation.

"Is 7:30 all right?" I asked him. "AM or PM?" he said and laughed. Enough was enough I thought. I kissed him lightly on the lips and made my way inside. Once again Sam had seen me home. I was beginning to like it. I took off my skirt and carried it into the backyard. I didn’t want sand all over the house. I stood on the back porch in my panties and shook out my skirt as one would a towel. It was definitely not beachwear.

I hoped Mom didn’t think I was ditching her this evening. We had been spending more than a fair amount of time together. The day’s excitement began to take it’s toll on me. I really needed a nap. I’m sure Sam would have thought me nuts had I told him that I had to go in and take my nap now. Especially since it would be my second nap of the day! Where the heck was Mom, I wondered? Oh well, it wasn’t yet four o’clock. I’d worry about Mom later. I set my alarm for five and quickly passed out atop my bed. The buzzer woke me moments later. I think I could have slept straight through to tomorrow given the opportunity. The aroma of meatballs cooking drifted up the stairs. Mom was home. She apparently heard my not too gentle steps in my room.

"So, you’re alive!" she shouted up at me.

"I could say the same about you!" I replied with mock indignity.

I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Mom was busily at work. She turned to greet me. "I still can’t get over how beautiful you look!" she said and beamed at me. It was a beatific smile. I thought of my old comeback, "you don’t look so bad yourself," but in the end decided that it would be inappropriate.

"Thanks Mom! I could never have done this without your help," I said honestly. She laughed and told me not to go and blame it all on her. "I think I need a shower," I told her.

"Don’t forget to wear a shower cap, Joan."

"A shower cap? What in the world would I need one of those for?"

"Your hair may look easy to style, but looks can be deceiving," she said.

"Great!, " I said my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It’s not easy being pretty Joan," she said chuckling. "You can borrow mine this time, but you’re going to have to get one of your own.

I went upstairs and retrieved Mom’s cap. I carefully tucked my hair inside it and made my way into the warm mist. The shower worked its magic on me. I began to come alive. Fifteen minutes later I was back downstairs in the kitchen waiting for dinner to appear on the table. Angel hair pasta and meatballs: it was one of my all time favorites.

"What about the left over pizza from last night?" I asked her. She told me that she’d thrown it out. My jaw dropped. "You’re kidding right?" Hell, I’d spent most of a week’s allowance on that damned pizza. Mom laughed and told me that she was indeed kidding. She’d wrapped the slices and put them in the freezer. I set the table and finally we sat down to eat. Mom was a firm believer in portioning out the food herself. "Mom, Sam’s taking me to the movies this evening. Is that all right?" I asked her.

"He’s taking you?" she asked incredulously. I laughed at that. Sam and I had seen a zillion movies together, but we’d each always paid our own way.

"I think he plans on paying," I informed her. "But if he doesn’t, I’ll pay my own way. Speaking of which" I said with good humor, "I haven’t received my allowance yet."

"Well, of course you can go, Joan. Just make sure you’re home by 11:00 PM." Eleven! This was one part of Mom’s insanity that I enjoyed. "I’m going out again with your Aunt Alice this evening. Just make sure you’re home by eleven or there’ll be hell to pay. I’m not kidding about that Joan. First offense and you’re grounded for a week."

"That sounds fair," I told her, though I really didn’t think it was. Hell, stuff happened!

"What are you kids going to see?" I told her I had no idea, but was just happy to be spending the evening with my best friend. My response was good enough for her. Dinner over, I cleared the table and did the dishes. It was rapidly closing in on seven o’clock.

I ran upstairs in a panic considering clothing alternatives. The only outfit that made sense was my new green mini skirt and matching top. Thankfully, I had another pair of pantyhose to put on. It just didn’t seem right wearing the same pair I’d worn this afternoon. I’d seen Mom’s delicates hanging on the shower rod over the years and decided that I’d hand wash my hose and panties in the morning. I hadn’t twisted my earrings in a long time. I turned them and they slid round in circles quite nicely. My ears had healed! I knew the first thing I was going to do when I got paid was get myself some new earrings. I laughed as I realized that I’d have to make a jewelry box for myself. As I looked in the mirror I understood just why all the guys had been staring at me. Was there a way I could make myself beautiful just for me? Was I really just kidding myself and actually enjoying all the attention?

I took my perfume out of my purse and applied it liberally behind my ears, wrists, and knees. I had no idea why you’d put perfume behind your knees, but Darla had said it was the thing to do. I acquiesced to her experience. Moments later, Sam arrived.

"Joan, Sam’s here," Mom shouted from the foyer.

"Tell him I’ll be right down," I shouted back. I felt silly as I said it. I could have simply replied to Sam directly. For some reason, I didn’t want him coming upstairs. I was becoming as strange as my mother. One last look in the mirror. A light coat of "rose" on my lips. I smiled to myself and made my way downstairs.

"Wow!" was all he said when he saw me. I could get used to hearing him say that to me. Sam was wearing a clean pair of jeans and a sport shirt. He’d dressed in unisex fashion for years, but I’d never seen him wearing an actual sport shirt before. The buttons were on the right side.

"Sam! You look fantastic!" I told him. He actually blushed.

"We do make a cute couple, don’t we?" he said and laughed. "Shall we go, m’lady?" he asked me. I smiled up at him and offered him my arm.

We began walking back towards the boardwalk. "Oh Sam! You’re not taking me to that old rat trap, are you?" I asked him.

"It was good enough for you a few weeks ago Missy," he replied. The old theater on the boardwalk had actually received historic preservation status. In the summertime they didn’t even bother showing first-run films. The theater would fill up either way and it was a lot more profitable to show something that had been around for a long time. I almost felt like whining in protest. Then, I remembered what I’d said to Mom: it didn’t matter what we were going to see. We made our way just south of the pier that housed the carousel. An early crowd had gathered for the eight o’clock showing. I couldn’t believe I’d have to suffer through "The Exorcist" again. Apparently, Sam loved the movie and said so.

I sat next to him in the theater totally bored out of my gourd. Ok, as horror movies went, this one was a classic. For some reason though, I found the entire story line funny and began laughing inappropriately. Sam urged me softly and often to please be quiet. In our former relationship, Sam would have been laughing right along with me. This was all getting too weird. There was an old Saturday Night Live skit with Richard Pryor, god rest his soul, about the scene where Linda Blair is in bed with her head twisting round and round. "Your momma eats kitty litter," the actress portraying Blair had said. It was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen! Dad had the complete collection of SNL the early years on DVD. I found myself suddenly thrown into a state of sadness and despair. I missed my father.

The movie finally ended and we made our way outside. Sarah was standing outside with a group of kids. None of whom I recognized. Well, but for her older brother Jason. "Well look what we have here," she greeted us. "John and Samantha out for an evening of fun," she continued. "But who’s John and who’s Samantha?" she said and began laughing. She was loud enough to begin drawing attention from those standing in line for the next showing of the film. "They’re definitely a couple of queerdos!" she exclaimed.

"You’re crazy sis," Jason said. "He ain’t no girl, and she ain’t no guy," he declared emphatically. With that, Sarah ran to attack me. She was going for my boobs. What the hell was wrong with her, I wondered? Holding her at bay was no contest for me. Still, with the others in their group, it would be best if we just got out of there as quickly as possible. Sam moved into the picture.

"No, please Sam," I begged him. Sam was big, but Jason was older and bigger. Not to mention the two other members of their ugly crew.

"Let’s go Joan," he said and walked me away ready to kill anyone that might attack me. Sarah and company began laughing maniacally at our departure. Her father was one of the idiot cops that patrolled the boardwalk. With that thought, as I remember it, I offer my humble apologies to those who dedicate their lives "to protect and serve." (no kidding!)

It was probably because their father was a police officer that they didn’t push the issue. I didn’t care why, I was just happy to be out of there. Just what the hell did Darla see in this girl, I wondered? I can’t remember ever encountering such a total piece of excrement before in my life.

"Are you all right Joan," he asked me when we were at a safe distance.

"Yes Sam, and thank you for not going ballistic on them."

"I may be aggressive, but I’m not stupid," he replied and laughed.

"Let’s get some fudge again, shall we?" I asked him.

"Anything you want sweetheart," he said as he led the way to the candy shoppe. We made our selections and Sam once again reached for his wallet.

"No Sam, this is my treat," I insisted. He smiled at me and let me pay for the bag of chocolate.

Chocolate in any form always seemed to calm me down. We walked back to the main boardwalk and grabbed one of the vacant benches. Sam swung the back so we’d be able to view the passersby. He sat there munching on the fudge laced with almonds. A crazy idea pervaded my being. I desperately wanted the cigarette tucked away in the bottom of my purse. While Sam sat there watching the crowd and eating the candy I surreptitiously removed it from my bag. I turned away from him and struck a match. I filled my lungs with the mild menthol tobacco. There was no urge to cough or choke. All I experienced was relief. I guessed this was how one became addicted, I thought and took another puff.

Sam didn’t even notice at first. His eyes were locked on the wheels of chance across the way. Finally he screwed up his face and said, "someone’s smoking! Do you smell that?" he asked me as he at last saw the smoke escape my mouth. "You?" he said. I felt a deep shame as I looked him in the eyes sadly. His own expression told me that he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. My next move left no doubt in that regard. I inhaled deeply and let a thin stream of smoke escape my lips. My eyes contained a look of defiance. He gave me a look which suggested I’d broken his heart.

"Why?" he asked.

I felt ashamed and confused as I sat there puffing away. Hell, I thought it’d been difficult smoking in front of Mom and Aunt Viv. This was something else entirely. "I’m not really sure Sam," I said. "It just seemed like a good idea at the time." His eyes indicated pure disappointment with me. "I’m sorry Sam," I offered meekly. I didn’t promise never to do it again. I knew that would be a lie. He shook his head and dove deeper into the bag of fudge. "Aren’t you going to save some for me?" I asked him playfully. He seemed annoyed by my request. I considered a plethora of lame excuses to offer up regarding my behavior. I wasn’t in the mood for fairy tales and I could tell that Sam wasn’t either. At length, he offered me a piece. I was glad that he’d eaten most of it. If he hadn’t, I would have.

"You’re not going to do that again, are you?" he asked me. Do what, I wondered? I knew what he was referring to. I was determined not to lie to him.

"Not tonight," I replied. That was a no brainer, I didn’t have any more cigarettes. He seemed momentarily satisfied with my reply and let the matter drop. "Come on Sam," I urged him. "It’s way after ten and I have to be home by eleven or there’ll be hell to pay."

"But our mothers went out together." I laughed at his naiveté.

"Yes Sam, they did. But your Aunt Joan is going to be ringing my number in about fifteen minutes."

It took longer than it should have for that fact to register. Finally, it did. "We’d better get going then." It was only a ten minute walk home. When we arrived at my door, I asked him if he wanted to come inside. "Are you sure it’s all right?"

"Just be quiet when you hear the phone ring," I replied. Sometimes Sam seemed a bit slow to me. Mom rang promptly at eleven o’clock. I told her we’d had a wonderful time at the movies. She told me that she’d see me in the morning without clueing me in as to how her own evening was going. We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone.

"How about we have a slumber party of our own?" Sam suggested.

"Huh?" was all I could think to say.

"Well, our moms are out having fun. My own mother won’t check on me till tomorrow, if then. What say you and I spend the night together?" he asked in a suggestive tone.

The idea was both scary and exciting. Sleep with Sam? Spend the entire night with him? Wow! Part of me still felt like sending him on his way for his suggestion. What if Mom caught us? I laughed and figured she’d most likely kiss us both on the cheeks and tip toe silently out of the room. "What’s so funny Joan?" he asked me. I told him the probable scenarios regarding Mom’s actions if she caught us in bed together. I enjoyed the new found freedom, but I missed my mother.

"You want something to eat?" I asked him. There was never any need to ask Sam such a question. He was always hungry. I invited him into the kitchen and turned on the oven. It was time to finish the pizza.

While we were waiting for the oven to heat up, Sam walked over to the counter and began pouring us two gin and tonics. "Whoa big fella! What do you think you’re doing?" I asked him.

He laughed and replied, "Well, if you’re going to smoke, then I’m going to drink." And here we were a few weeks away from our fourteenth birthdays. This was all getting a little too bizarre for me. "Have you ever had a gin and tonic before?" he asked me in a daring tone.

"Of course I have," I responded in as worldly a manner as I could muster. I was worried that Mom would notice the amount of liquid missing from the bottle. Sam simply laughed at my reply. Suddenly, I had an idea. I ran upstairs and purloined another of Mom’s cigarettes. I was totally losing my mind.

We each sat at either end of the table. I went and got the candles from the dining room. By the time I was finished, it was a very romantic setting. I sat there in the dim light drinking and smoking. Sam stared at me with a hunger which suggested that pizza alone would never be enough. "I hate to admit it, but you do look sexy with that cigarette in your hands."

I looked up at him and said, "you do know that I’m not on the menu?" His smile grew wide.

"We’ll see about that," he whispered. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. Drinking, smoking, and contemplating sex with another human being. "If we’re ever going to eat that pizza, don’t you think you should put it in the oven?" he asked. I’d completely forgotten about the pizza. I practically jumped out of my chair and ran to put the four slices inside. All of a sudden, I was starving myself!

Sam finished his drink and went to make another. "Don’t you think that one’s enough?" I asked him. I was already feeling quite giddy myself. There was no way I’d imbibe any more alcohol. It hadn’t seemed to affect Sam at all. This was a side of Sam with which I was totally unfamiliar.

"I think one more would be enough," he said and began mixing the drink. "You’d like another too, wouldn’t you, Joan?" he asked me.

"No Sam, I wouldn’t," I replied. His behavior scared me more than just a bit.

I hoped that the pizza would calm him down. The oven timer rang out and I went to retrieve the food. We sat there eating and talking about all manner of things. Neither one of us brought up the topic of potential sleeping arrangements for the evening. I’m not even sure why the thought worried me, but it did. I sat there taking small bites as I’d recently learned to do. Sam wolfed down his two slices in a matter of seconds. I still hadn’t finished my slice and he sat there staring at the final piece remaining. I couldn’t believe his appetite.

"Go on Sam, take it." He didn’t require any further encouragement.

"This is the best reheated pizza I’ve ever tasted," he said.

I laughed at that and replied, "really, how would you know?" It took him a moment but soon he joined me in laughter.

The pizza finished and the dishes finally put away, I found myself staring at the gin bottle. No, I didn’t want another drink. I was worried that the level was substantially lower than before Sam had poured the drinks. "Don’t worry about it Joan," Sam said smiling. He took the bottle over to the sink and filled it to its prior level with water. "She’ll never notice," he said and smiled again. It seemed that Sam had more secrets than I did. I hand washed our two glasses not wanting to take any chances on what Mom would or wouldn’t notice. He looked at me like I was nuts.

"When we sleep over at your house, you can do things the way you want to."

We’d danced wordlessly around the issue long enough. "Come on Sam," I said and led him up the stairs. He walked behind me holding my hand as we ascended. It was as if he’d never been in the house before. We entered my room. Remnants of John lined the walls: baseball posters mostly. Funny, I almost felt like a stranger in my own room. I found myself wishing that I had some candles. Sam stood behind me as we faced my full-length mirror. He gently slid the hair on my neck out of the way and began nibbling tenderly at the flesh underneath.

"Haven’t you had enough to eat yet?" I said to him and laughed.

"Almost Joan, but not quite," he replied and continued kissing me. His lips sent shivers throughout my body. I really was Sam’s girl. A feeling of pride and joy swept through me. I watched his face in the mirror as he continued on. He really was beautiful. Finally, I couldn’t take any more. I turned around and kissed him with every ounce of passion in my being. He melted at my touch.

"Are we really going to do this?" I asked him. He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about. He practically ripped my top off of me. I looked sadly down at my bra knowing that with it gone my breasts would be too.

"It’s all right Joan," he said understanding my sadness. With that he gently removed my bra and the secret it contained. With that completed, I began slowly undressing him. Button by button came slowly undone as I expertly undid them. He looked embarrassed when I saw the bandage wrapped around his chest.

"I’m sorry Joan," he said tearfully.

"It’s all right Sam," I assured him. I gently unwound the bandage. We stood there naked: flesh against flesh. He held me for the longest time in his arms. It was heaven. He finally released me and sat down on the bed and began removing his pants. I sat next to him and undressed too.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered.

My penis became engorged as he pulled me to him yet again. The warmth emitted by his lower regions was driving me wild. He pulled me tighter and began slowly rubbing up against me. I couldn’t believe the desire building in my loins. He released me once again and climbed into bed. He actually smiled at the teddy bears and gave them both hugs. He extended his hand to me in invitation. Tears began flowing down my cheeks as I accepted.

"I love you Joan," his voice echoed softly in the air.

"I love you too Sam," I cooed in agreement.

"Boy," he whispered as he slid down on top of me.

"Girl," I whispered in return……………………………..