The Twelve Days of Christmas - Day 5

The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn It looks as if my day with the boys is changing. I hope that they don’t mind. I better let them know that they can bring dates/wives with them.

Friday Dec 30, Day 5

Today’s note is found, again, in my bathroom. Sitting next to the note is two types of moisturizing lotion; one in a large plastic bottle and the other in a small tube. There is also a small tub of cream with some French sounding name.

Good morning Karl,

Girls find rough skin to be unpleasant. Hands and feet are the worst. The cold winter weather you are experiencing will dry your skin out dreadfully. I suggest that you use the lotions provided. The larger one I would suggest that you use every morning, even though it says it is good for 48 hours. Take the smaller tube with you and rub it on your hands a couple of times a day. The lotions will keep your skin soft and supple. The smaller tub is something special just for your face. You should use it both morning and night.

Don’t neglect your exercise and remember to eat healthier than you have been.

By the way, your father says to tell you that you should talk to Jim about opening a structural department in the firm. That is your area of expertise. He thinks that your skill is being wasted on the minor structures incidental to the other projects and that you are more than capable of managing a small department.

Love, Mom and Dad

I hadn’t noticed it before reading the note, but my skin is feeling dry. As I examine the lotions, I can't help but wonder what changes they will either bring or that they foretell. I contemplate just ignoring mom's instructions again, but I get a feeling gently urging me to do as she suggests.

Resistance is futile.

Rereading the note, it occurs to me that the first sentence, “Girls find rough skin unpleasant,” could be interpreted differently from each of two perspectives. As a guy, I would assume that mom is trying give me a clue as to how to be more attractive to girls. Now that changes are happening, I can also see that if I were a new girl, mom is telling me a secret for making life better for myself as a woman. I can see, in the prior notes, where the meaning is different whether you are looking at it as a man or as a woman-in-training.

I am on to you, mom, I think to myself. But why are you doing this to me? I have never wanted to be female. Not once, that I can recall, has there been an instance where I even wondered what it was like to be a girl.

I am attracted to women just like any other man. Heck, I even lived with one for a few months.

That experience with Judy started out well. I suppose that we were both exploring the mysterious opposite gender. But then life/school got in the way, and she left me. I was upset when I found her stuff gone from our apartment and a note on the kitchen table, but on contemplation, she was probably right that I put my studies ahead of her too often. Engineering school is all encompassing and she found herself with many a lonely night while I studied or stayed late in a lab. After a few months without her, she was largely forgotten as I buckled down to fight my way through my last year of school. The point being that I have a general knowledge of female anatomy but never wanted to try it on for myself. I also have a working knowledge of the design of steel structures. I guess that I put both fields at the same level of importance.

That’s probably not accurate. I think maybe I put my engineering studies at a higher priority than my study of female anatomy.

Judy was a distraction the semester that we spent together and my grades suffered. After Judy left, I decided to put off starting another solid relationship until sometime in the future when I am established in my career. That day has not yet come.

My parents, particularly my mother, had tried to get me to readjust my priorities. It hadn’t worked. So, it looks as if they have found a way to reach out from the grave to force the issue.

So, I ask myself hypothetically, what would be wrong with being a woman? The women I know seem to not mind being women.

Before I can really delve into that question, I notice the time and realize that I will probably be a little late for work this morning. I will have to put off contemplating the answer to my question until later.

My hair now reaches a couple of inches below my shoulders. Drying it after my shower proves to be a disaster. I end up brushing it out damp and hastily get dressed, after quickly rubbing lotion on my body. I add the necklace under my shirt as I have been doing all week.

As I am wolfing down my meager breakfast of yogurt and skim milk, I receive a text from Anita on our group conversation asking if there was a note today.

I quickly run upstairs, photograph the note and lotions, and send it to the group. I do my daily selfies at the same time.

On my way out to my car, I notice my gym bag waiting by the door - again. Dang, I didn’t take time to wash my sweaty gym clothes last night. I guess that I will be a little ripe this afternoon at the gym! I am not looking forward to returning to my old gym, but a ripe smell will probably go down better than a sweet clean girly smell.

On the way to the office, my phone’s text notification sound kept pinging. Looking at my phone, after parking the car, I see that the girls were having a conversation about the impact of today’s note. Jane asked if we wanted to get together for lunch again today as she and Anita were going back to school next week and would no longer be available for a mid-day gathering.

I quickly text that I was game. Jane suggests the same place and time. Everyone quickly agrees.

Celeste gives me a look of disapproval as I pass her desk. “Mr. Bronson, if you are going to wear your hair long, you are going to need to learn how to take care of it. It will be a wonder if you don’t catch cold with that damp hair in this weather.”

“Yes, Mrs. Jenkins,” I reply properly chastened, “I will work on it.”

“And what is happening with your voice?” she enquires, “your voice has been changing all week. You sound more like a woman now.”

“It has been a rough week,” I tell her. “Is Jim available? I need to talk with him.”

“I’ll let him know that you want to see him,” Celeste informs me. “His schedule is pretty open today.”

----<0>----

“So,” Jim says contemplatively, “Your father thinks that it is time to expand. I have to admit that the notes, and what is happening to you, is creeping me out. Sometimes I think that you are making this all up as a way to cover up a purposeful transition to womanhood.”

“I assure you,” I respond, “that is not the case. I have never, not even once, contemplated becoming female. Also, a week ago I was your average geeky male engineer without a sign of femininity. How do you explain hair growth like this,” pulling at my hair, “and the change in my voice in less than a week? There is no way medically that these changes can happen this fast. And I can guarantee that I am still very much male where it counts. I am just a little more… what do you call it?”

“Androgynous is probably the word that you are looking for,” Jim informs me. “Okay, I get it. If you hadn’t kept me in the loop the past few days, I would be even more skeptical. What does your doc have to say about it?”

“I have an another appointment with him after lunch,” I tell him, “I had to give a second round of blood yesterday because the first lab results didn't make sense. Hopefully, he will have some answers today.”

“Well,” he says, “keep me in the loop. What do you think of adding structural design to our list of capabilities?”

“With all the new infrastructure money flooding the market,” I explain, “we would be more competitive if we can do more than the small incidental structures that have been a part of our current contracts. You know that I have done design work on a large high school, a shopping mall, and a few moderately sized office buildings before coming here. Since I’ve been here, it’s all been small stuff that is auxiliary to our other projects. Personally, I would like more opportunity to use my training and experience and I think that the time is right to expand the firm into that area. When I pass the licensing exam this spring, I should be able to take charge of any new structural projects.”

“You are a good kid and a damn fine junior engineer, Karl,” Jim complements me. “I am sorry that it took your parent’s deaths to bring you to us, but I glad to have you here. You have proven to be the fastest learning junior engineer that I have ever met, already becoming more capable than many engineers with a decade of experience. With a few more years of experience I can easily see you being ready to take over the management of the firm when I retire. You need that experience to gain the respect of the staff and our clients.”

“You and dad started this firm with not much more experience than I have now,” I point out.

“That is true,” Jim admits, “and we made quite a few mistakes along the way that almost did us in. Anyway, go talk with our one-person personnel office and work with her on recruiting a more senior structural engineer to work with you. I agree that the timing is good and we should start building your kingdom.”

“Oh, by the way” he adds, “What do you think of letting people go home early today if they want to as personal time off or unpaid leave? I don’t think a lot of work is getting done today.”

“I’m okay with that,” I say with a smile. “I still have a couple of things to do when I get back from my doctors appointment, so I’m not sure how early I will get out of here.”

----<0>----

Once the four of us, plus little Amy, are settled at a table, Anita excitedly asks to see my hands.

I have used the small tube of lotion twice already this morning.

“Has that ring of yours always been that loose,” Joanna asks as she examines my hands, referring to my Order of the Engineer band that I wear on the little finger of my right hand.

“I hadn’t really noticed,” I admit. “I don’t think it was that loose yesterday. Maybe it is because of the cold.”

Jane places one of her hands next to mine. “Hmm, your fingers aren’t as manly looking as Bryan’s but they are not as slender and soft as any of ours. I’d say that they are closer to being a man’s fingers.”

Anita huffs, “Well, duh! He’s only been using the lotion for a few hours. Let’s see what they look like tomorrow.”

“I guess that you are not going to be showing us your feet today,” Joanna states the obvious.

I just give her a look of “really?”

“What did you find in your master bedroom?” Jane asks.

“No time again today,” I reply.

“Oh boy!,” Anita exclaims. “Can we come over again to investigate?”

“Yeah,” agrees Joanna, “It’s either that or stay home and wash my hair. Karl, you are the best entertainment that this single girl has had in months.”

“That would be fine,” I agree. I didn’t have any plans either, other than going to the gym after work. “I need to go work out, but afterwards we can see what mom left behind. I’ll text you when I am done at the gym.”

I am not sure how I feel about being entertainment but I do get to spend time with two beautiful women. I know, I know, I indicated earlier that I didn’t care much for Joanna, but she is growing on me. As a friend.

“Jane, I am thinking of trying out that national chain gym after work.” I change topics. “How does it work?”

“Did you have problems at the Asshole Gym yesterday?” Joanna smirks.

“Let’s just say that they didn’t know what to make of me. I felt a bit out of place and uncomfortable there,” I admit.

Jane gives me an overview of the membership plan at their gym and what services and equipment they have available. She calls her husband and gets him to agree to take me as a guest tonight. I’ve met Bryan a couple of times before and he seems like a nice enough guy.

“So, Joanna,” I change the subject. “You said that your other option for tonight was to stay home and wash your hair. Funny that you should say that. I had a devil of a time trying to deal with mine this morning. Maybe you ladies can give me some tips on how to deal with this mop. A woman at the office loaned me a brush to straighten it out this morning since it was a mess when it dried.”

The rest of the lunch hour was spent getting an education on hair care.

As we are leaving, Anita inquires, “You remember my older brother, Sam?”

“Yes,” I remember him. He was two years ahead of us in school. “Didn’t he get married, join the Air Force and go to dental school?"

“That’s right,” she confirmed, “Well he has been home this week looking into joining a practice here. His wife died unexpectedly last summer from a brain tumor and he wants to move closer to home when his commitment to the Air Force is done next summer.”

“I didn’t know,” I say with compassion. Losing parents is tough, but a spouse? That must be more than hard.

“Did they have children?” I ask with concern.

“No,” she says sadly, “They had just found out that they were pregnant when she died.”

She shakes off her sadness and asks, “Can I bring him to your football party? He has been very depressed and withdrawn since Karen died and I think that it would be good for him to mingle with other people. He used to love football, but not even that excites him these days. I am not sure that he will come, but I want to ask him. He needs to get out some before he has to leave on Wednesday.”

“What’s another body,” I shrug and smile. “Tell him that he is welcome if he arrives with a six pack of beer.”

This party is getting out of control!

----<0>----

“Okay, Doc, am I going to live?” I always wanted to say that!

He rolls his eyes an suppresses a grin, “Yes, but the question is how you will live.”

“Give it to me straight, Doc.” It is hard to pass up on the cheesy lines.

He gets more serious, “Your urinalysis and blood test are perfectly normal, for the most part. The only problem is that they are normal for a woman your age. Your hormone levels match a female profile instead of that of a man. This is very odd, since you do have the male parts that generate male hormones and don’t appear to have the female organs that generate female hormones. We will be checking that today with an ultrasound. Given these strange results, I had a chromosome check done with yesterday’s blood draw. I am happy to report that you are definitely male, having both X and Y chromosomes.”

With that introduction, we go through the weigh, measure, and prod business again. This time we add an ultrasound.

“What did you find?” I ask when told to put my clothes back on.

“The ultrasound is normal, for a man,” he starts out, “so we can rule out the possibility of you being intersexed. We still don’t know the reason for the hormonal imbalance. You’ve lost another ten pounds in two days. Even if you were fasting, you wouldn’t have lost that much weight in forty-eight hours. You are eating, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I confirm, “but maybe not as much as usual and I am eating more healthy foods. If we go with the assumption that somehow my deceased mother is behind all this, then it must be her who has restocked my refrigerator and pantry with healthier foods. What is even more strange, is that I like what she's given me. For example, I came home the other night to find a broccoli and chicken casserole waiting in the freezer. When it came out of the oven, it smelled heavenly and tasted great. I hate broccoli and chicken casserole, particularly mom’s, so why do I find it appealing all of a sudden? The mysteries of this week defy explanation.”

“There are also the mysteries of your phenomenal hair growth, no more facial hair, and the continued reduction of your Adam’s apple, which explains your more feminine voice,” he added. “You are also an inch shorter than you were a couple of days ago. If I understand the history correctly, your first note said that all this would come to head on the 6th of this month."

"Can you think of anything that would stop this train?" I ask.

"I’d give you a testosterone shot," he tells me, "if I thought it would help. Unfortunately, if your story is real, I don’t think that a shot would do any good. Medical science has yet to address how to counter supernatural influences. Also, I am not an endocrinologist and I am not willing to give a shot if I don’t really know what the source of the problem is.”

Consulting his calendar, he continues, “The sixth is a week from today. I’d like you to make an appointment for then and we’ll see where you end up. Have the receptionist block out a double time slot at the start of the day.  In the meantime, call us if something drastic happens or you find yourself in pain and we will work you in, even if I have to do it after hours.”

“I will do that,” I promise.

----<0>----

Back at the office, I update Jim on the doctor’s findings and take Celeste aside and spend time telling her the whole story of my week. She already knows part of it and doesn’t believe me at first, however when I show pictures of the notes and “gifts” and explain about my voice and hair growth, she starts to come around.

----<0>----

I just barely make it to the gym at the appointed time to meet Bryan. Walking in the door I am a bit overwhelmed by all the purple with yellow trim, but the big sign on the wall declaring this to be a judgment free zone is reassuring. I am gob smacked by the huge array of exercise equipment available. After logging me in as his guest, Bryan shows me to the locker room where I am almost afraid to open my gym bag.

I am pleased to find my exercise clothes, while being the same as yesterday, are actually clean and neatly folded. I smile, hoping that this service doesn’t end on January 6th. Sitting on top of the clothes is a plain hair rubber band like thing. Which is very helpful now that my hair is down to the middle of my shoulder blades. It doesn't take a genius to figure out how to make a low ponytail.

What is really cool, was that no one gives a second look at my ponytail or at what I am wearing. After an hour of sampling the equipment, I am ready sign up for a membership, though I decide to put it off until my changes are complete.

Before leaving the gym, I send a text letting the ladies know that I am on my way. Anita texts back that she is bringing Chinese again.

----<0>----

Joanna and Anita are both pretty excited to see what has appeared in the master bedroom but control themselves through dinner. As we eat, we continue to discuss hair care in more detail than we did at lunch.

My hair has continued to grow through out the day and now extends almost to the bottom of my shoulder blades. The John Denver look is now only a memory. No matter how you look at it, my hair now definitely girly. I have started parting my hair in the middle and find myself doing that little flick of the head thing that girls do to flip hair out of my face. It is annoying. At work, I found that I needed to tuck hair behind my ear on occasion to keep it out of my face when looking down at my desk. I really need to keep a comb or brush with me to keep it straight during the day. When I mention this to the girls, they have suggestions.

“What you really need,” Anita says in a serious voice, “is a purse to carry your supplies with you during the day.” She shows me hers then empties it out on the table. She packs quite an array of supplies in a relatively small purse, most of which even I can identify.

There are the keys and wallet that you would expect. She also has a large-toothed comb. Like me, she has fairly straight hair, but hers is longer by about four inches. I wonder how long it will be until I catch up with her?

She also carries a tube of moisturizing hand lotion similar to what I received this morning, lipstick and lip gloss, and a few items that I take to be makeup. A small mirror is with the makeup.

There are also what can only be tampons, sanitary pads, and a spare panty. Oh my god, are those in my future?

She also carries her cellphone, a small note pad and a pen, breath mints, a small pocketknife, fingernail clippers, nail file, and a few other miscellaneous items.

“That’s a lot of stuff to put in that small bag,” I say in wonder. “I just carry a wallet and keys that fit nicely in my pants pockets. My cell goes in my shirt pocket.”

“You guys have it so easy,” Joanna mutters with slight disgust in her voice. “We need to carry more things around than you guys do. Also, our clothes usually don’t have any useful pockets. Our body shape makes functional pockets more difficult. Take your shirt’s breast pocket, for example. The pocket itself may look okay on a woman, but try putting something in it and things look very awkward as our breasts get in the way. Jeans back pockets are a little more functional, but the roundness of our bottoms and general tightness of our jeans make them less functional than a man’s. In other styles of pants, back pockets just totally destroy the look. So, if we want to carry things, a purse is pretty much a given.”

Anita agrees, “I’ve been carrying some type of bag, purse or small backpack, since I was twelve or thirteen. Most women I know have at least half a dozen different types for use in different situations or with specific outfits.”

I sigh, “If mom has her way, I’ll probably have a collection of my own soon. I do have a messenger bag that I use to carry my computer, papers, minor office supplies and such that I can’t carry in my pockets. I’m guessing that that is a step towards carrying a purse.”

“Not really,” Anita disagrees, “You don’t carry it around with you all the time. I bet you just carry it to get stuff to and from work.”

“True,” I admit.

“Say,” Joanna reminds us, “speaking of your mother, why don’t we go find out what surprises she dropped off today.”

When we adjourn to the master bedroom, we actually don’t find anything new. That seems strange so we widen our search.

The house has four bedrooms upstairs with the two bathrooms. Downstairs we have an entryway hall, fair size living room, a large den, the kitchen with breakfast nook, a formal dinning room, a small office, a powder room, and a mudroom with laundry facilities adjacent to the door to the two-car garage. There is a large unfinished basement with some storage, a small shop, and project workspace. It is a pretty nice house with lots of room for us to explore. It is definitely larger than I need.

We hit paydirt in the entryway hall closet. On the shelf above the coats, there are three purses of various types. I am pretty sure that they were not there after I purged the closet of my parents things. One of the purses, a black nylon crossbody shoulder bag (or so Anita tells me), is already stocked with many of the same supplies that Anita showed from her bag. Right down to the tampon and sanitary pad. There are no panties in there. I’m not sure if I should be happy about that.

“Nice bags,” Joanna says appreciatively as she looks through them. “They are all new. This is a nice starter collection that will cover most situations.”

“And of great quality too,” Anita observes. “The stuff in the black nylon crossbody bag seems to be brand new. The small wallet, however, is empty. I guess that you will need to transfer the cards and money from your wallet when you start to use this.”

“You two must be in tune with mom,” I am a little amazed. “We’re talking about purses and here they are. That is a little creepy.”

“This whole thing is creepy,” Anita happily grins, “I’ve always wanted to be involved in something supernatural.” She is practically bouncing up and down when she gives me a quick hug. “Thank you so much for including us.”

Joan just rolls her eyes and shrugs, “Yeah, it is kind of fun.”

After a thorough examination of the purses, we decide to adjourn to the den to watch a show after cleaning the kitchen and making some microwave popcorn. I get a running commentary from the girls as we watch “Mrs. Harris goes to Paris.” They occasionally pause the film to explain how a woman feels about things when I don’t seem to fully appreciate the significance of Mrs. Harris’s actions/desires.

Anita has me sit on the floor in front of her so that she can play with my hair while we watch the show. She experiments with several looks and ends up putting my hair in a loose braid as the show comes to an end.

"You know, Karl," Anita idly observes, "I think that your hair has grown another inch just since you got home. The extra length makes it easy to braid."

“If you do this before going to bed,” she educates me about the benefit of my current braid, “your hair won’t be a tangled mess in the morning.”

“You will have to teach me how to do it myself sometime,” I tell her. “Tonight, is probably not the right time as I am so tired.”

“Look it up on Youtube,” Joanna suggests. “There are tons of hair and makeup videos on Youtube.”

“I will do that,” I assure her.

Both of them give me a hug as they go out the door.

“Your braid looks nice. Don’t take it out until morning. You will text us in the morning with the next mystery, right?” Anita asks hopefully.

“No problem. I can hardly wait,” I reply with more than a hint of sarcasm.

----<0>----

As I get ready for bed, I take a personal inventory while staring in the bathroom mirror rubbing on my new moisturizer. The image staring back at me looks like a slightly softer version of my former self. I pull up a recent image that was taken as a publicity shot for the firm and compare it to what is in the mirror.

My skin is definitely clearer and softer, and my jaw line is not so rugged. It is more rounded. My Adam’s apple is virtually gone, and my neck is definitely more slender than what I have in the publicity photo.

My brow does not appear to be as pronounced as it was and my cheeks and lips appear to be fuller. My eyes are slightly less deeper set and maybe even a little bigger. It is hard to tell for sure, even looking at the photograph of my former self.

I can’t really see any drastic changes in my face, but the overall effect seems to make me appear to be more effeminate than I did at the start of the week.

My daily selfies confirm the gradual transformation. While my face is still basically masculine, the subtle changes so far are having me look vaguely like the sister that I don't have. I definitely sound like her, if she had a contralto voice.

My face is not the only thing changing. My shirt today, while the right length seems made for someone broader than I am now. The collar is definitely at least an inch too large, and the shirt is baggy on my shoulders which don't seem so broad any more. My arms have lost a lot of mass making the cuffs on my long sleeve dress shirts much looser than normal. I had to cinch up my watch band another notch today. I’ve had to do that with my belt as well since my waist appears to be slightly smaller than it was.

My one ring now rests on my dresser top since it is now too big and fell off my finger during my shower this evening. Examining my hands, I find that my fingers are definitely more slender than when we had examined them at lunch.

The only real body hair I have left is under my arms and in my groin area. There is still hair on my legs and arms but it so fine, you hardly notice it. I do notice that my legs are starting to show a hint of feminine shape.

My braided hair, touching just below the bottom of my shoulder blades, is now longer than that of many women I know. I wonder how long it is going to get. At least it is growing out nicely in an orderly fashion after Caroline's trim. It is hair that any woman would be proud of. Too bad I'm not a woman... yet.

As I finish rubbing the new moisturizer on my face, I can’t but wonder if there is some element in the cream that is accelerating the feminization process. I also rub the general moisturizer wherever I can reach. My skin is definitely smoother and softer than it was a week ago.

Strangely, and fortunately to me, my main male defining feature seems to be unaffected so far. If anything, it might be slightly more manly than before all the other changes happened. It definitely responds quickly to stimulation.

I head for bed wondering what tomorrow will bring.

I take off the topaz necklace and set it on my nightstand. I am positive that there is a very slight glow emanating from the stone after I turn off the light.