To See Through a Glass Darkly

Chapter 8

Sasha dresses for his first day as a girl as he begins bonding sister-to-sister with Sonia and girl-to-girl with their friends.

"So, Sasha," asked Sonia, "why are your eyes so very red this morning? If I didn't know better, I'd say you've been crying."

"Good call, Sis," I conceded looking at my face in the bathroom mirror. I woke up twice this morning from some disturbing dreams. And I cried myself back to sleep. Both times."

"Well, a nice shower should help. And while you're in there, you'll need to learn about hair regimens. You start with a shampoo, next you need a rinse, then you apply the conditioner at the end," Sis advised, giving me three matching bottles labeled "Shampoo," "Creme Rinse," and "Conditioner for Normal Hair," apparently all bearing the same logo. "When Deb styles your hair, she may give you different ones that are more suitable for your specific hair type. Your hair is darker than mine, but yours seems to have similar body and texture. So my hair products are reasonable to start with."

"I've only used shampoo," I remarked. "All this other stuff is new to me."

"Being a girl is not for the stupid!" Sis bragged, "most boys couldn't keep track of it all. Doing all this will make you smarter."

Like I weren't smart enough yet? I already had "straight A's" in all my classes, so far.

"Sis," I asked from behind the shower door, "what's this funny looking sponge for?"

"That's a loofa," she answered. "It exfoliates your skin."

"What's exfoliate mean?" I queried her.

"It strips off the top layer of cells from your skin. They're mostly dead skin cells. That makes room for the next layer to mature."

"I never knew that."

"Boys never do," Sonia asserted. "That's one of the reasons guys have coarse skin."

"But aren't guys supposed to have coarse skin?" I asked. "I thought it was one of the so-call 'secondary sex traits' for men."

"Hmm?" Sonia answered. "I'm not certain about that. Maybe I should check that out. But remember that we want you to be as feminine as possible. In your own words you want to look like a girl and not like a boy in a dress."

"How do I use this shampoo?" I asked her.

"Instructions are on the bottle. But use the shampoo first, the rinse next, and then the conditioner."

I opened the shampoo. It smelled flowery, I thought, like honeysuckle, although I wasn't sure. So, I began to shampoo my long and thick hair. Then I found myself wondering why I had hair past my shoulders. Had I grown it such long hair somehow thinking that I wanted to be like Sonia?

Why did the instructions on shampoo always say to repeat? I never understood that. Was it a ploy just to sell more shampoo? And was I supposed to use the rinse after each shampooing or just after the second one?

"Sis, are you there," I called out to her.

"She's not here, Sasha," I heard Tina's voice. "I am. You need something?"

"Do I use the rinse after shampooing both times or just after the second time?"

"I only shampoo once," my girlfriend-- no, she's now my wife again-- responded. "The 'repeat' is just there as a ruse to sell more. But I do lather and massage my hair longer."

So, I was convinced I should go for the "Creme Rinse" next, but as I glanced down, I noticed two small breasts jutting from my chest. I ran my hands along them and was hit by a very strong but pleasant sensation. The nipples appeared suddenly to tense up. These were not glued on. These were real.

"Tina," I called out, "could I have a towel?"

"She hasn't come yet," Sonia answered, "but here's one for you."

My chest was flat and normal.

Sis folded a big white towel over the top of the shower door. I wrapped around my waist and opened the door.

"Sasha! No!" Sonia screamed. "We can't have you going about bare-breasted! Wrap the towel under your arms. Quick!"

Immediately I did what she said and then I let the other towel fall from my waist. This felt weird.

"Now we also have to teach you to wrap your hair as well," she continued. "Look in the mirror and watch how I do this. It's simple, really."

She wrapped the towel around my head in a style resembling a turban with a flap over the top and down the back. She did it quickly, too.

"Li'l Sis, did you get that?" she asked.

"Not quite. You did it too fast," I complained. "One more time, but a little slower?"

So she unwrapped the head towel and showed me very carefully the way to fold and wrap it.

"Ready to try it?" Sis asked me. I took the towel and proceed to fold and wrap it as she had demonstrated.

"Not too bad for your first try," she conceded. "But next time it needs to be just a little more secure, so it doesn't unwrap too soon."

She unwrapped it again and this time demonstrated a slightly subtle difference in what I had done and how she wrapped. She made the difference in fold and motion clear. Then she offered it to me again.

Once again I wrapped the towel around my head and Sis smiled.

"That's it, Sasha! Just like it should be," she confirmed. "You're becoming a girl, one skill at a time."

"Exactly how many skills will that be?" I probed.

"Don't know yet," she confessed. "I'm still learning new ones."

*******************************

Sonia led me back to my room, where she had laid out a set of girl's underthings for me including matching brassiere and panties, a slip, and a pair of pantyhose.

"Start with the bra and panties, then get into the pantyhose," Sis told me. "You might need help getting into those."

"I was hoping you'd have stockings and a garter belt for me," I confessed to her.

"Stockings and garters are more complicated. But if you're really interested, we can try that another time. I like mine. They're really feminine."

"Well, Sis," I began, "this may come as a surprise, but I already know how to use a garter belt and stockings."

Sonia looked at me wide-eyed. I just loved that look when she did.

"You've been wearing mine when I'm not home?" Sis accused.

"No. I have my own," I bragged mischievously.

"You've been buying lingerie?" she interrogated me.

"No. Not at all," I teased.

"Mom or Tina or someone else gave it to you?" she speculated.

"Not exactly," I said, withholding what she sought.

"Then what exactly?" Sonia demanded, obviously losing patience.

"Sis, haven't you ever wondered what's worn under an ice hockey uniform?" I prompted her.

"You wear a garter belt?" she asked, puzzled.

"Of course," I disclosed to my sister. "What did you think held up our long woolen stockings?"

"I didn't know that," she admitted.

"Most girls wouldn't," I said.

Sis smiled and kissed me on the cheek. Maybe the idea of rugged guys in garter belts appealed to her. Should I tell her that our garter belts for ice hockey were made from heavy elastic and velcro, not satin and lace?

"Get into your bra and panties, then I'll show you how to handle the pantyhose."

After taking the towel off my head and shaking out my hair, I put on the undergarments. Getting the brassiere on was a bit difficult. I should ask Sis how to do it. And the panties felt tight, but very soft and smooth. Overall, getting into these was difficult, but worth the reward once done.

Then I looked at myself in the mirror. This was getting interesting. Sis was right; I can appear as a credible girl, a young woman, with a little work. It helped that we had a similar facial structure. Genetics had been kind to me and nothing less than generous to her. If a boy ever wanted to look like a girl, he could find no better role model than Sonia.

"I'm ready for you now, Sis," I called to her. She came in and showed me how to ball up the pantyhose and work it up my legs.

"By the way," she said, "although most girls wear their panties under their pantyhose, it's not unheard of to wear panties over pantyhose instead. You can try it whatever way suits you."

"Any special reason for that?" I inquired.

"These things are passed down mother to daughter," she said, "or older to younger sister. Maybe they're just different traditions. Or maybe some girls just prefer the feel of nylon next to their skin. I don't really know."

"So what's next?" I asked Sonia.

My sister took a pair of foam pads from a large pocket of her dressing gown.

"You're wearing a training bra. There's a pocket in each cup to insert one of these pads. There are two reasons for this... one, you need to get used to the feeling of having breasts; two, you need something there for your dresses and blouses to look right. As you get used to them, we can get you larger inserts."

"Two or three times in my hallucinations, I've had my own breasts," I confided to her. "I could touch and feel them. It really scared me."

"Breasts are nothing to be afraid of," she advised me, inserting one of the pads in my bra. "They're a simple part of who we are. The saddest part of being a boy, in my opinion, is that you don't grow breasts and get to wear bras. That's like magic to me."

"But I've heard of women and girls complaining about their bras all the time," I objected.

"That's true enough if a bra is the wrong size, a poor design, or not adjusted properly," she replied, inserting the other pad. "But if it's the right fit, there's hardly anything that's more pleasant to wear. The main problem us girls have is that our sizes keep changing as our breasts grow, so we're constantly needing to adjust and replace our bras."

"I never thought about that," I acknowledged. "But it certainly explains some things I've seen and heard."

"Sasha, I'm so proud of you for agreeing to this," Sis lauded me. "I know you had so many misgivings about dressing up for me. But I hope it will even make you a better man. You can be a better boyfriend and husband some day. Maybe you'll be able to see just a little more through a woman's eyes."

"Well, I would imagine that there's more to being a woman than just dressing up."

"Absolutely, my Li'l Bro!" she affirmed. "But even if you don't do any more than you already have, you've gone further yet than most men would ever dare.

"Still, I want you to experience more than looking like a girl. I'd like you to feel what it's like to be among girls and have a 'girls night out' and hear what we really think of guys and what our hopes and fears are like. I want to take you shopping with me as my little sister and try on a variety of dresses that make you look cute, hot, or silly."

"You want me to be an ambassador between men and women?" I asked, paraphrasing her description.

"You might put it that way," she said, a little more relaxed.

Sis told me to raise my arms up and put the slip on me, working it over my head and on down. She tugged on it here and there and I found myself instinctively moving my hands up and down the fabric, smoothing out any wrinkled lines. Sonia smiled at seeing this.

"You do that like you've always known how, Sasha," she observed approvingly. "Maybe I have been raising a little sister all along?"

"No," I said. "Smoothing it just seemed like the logical next step. And the fabric feels so nice that I just can't help but run my hands over it. No great mystery, really."

Sis now picked up a hairbrush and made a few strokes through my hair and gathered it up in ponytail to be secured by a white scrunchie from her wrist.

"Well, take a look in your closet mirror now," Sis instructed. "And we're not even close to finished yet."

After a double take I just stared at my isomeric image for a moment. Wow! I thought to myself and sat down on the edge of my bed. The only clue that I had that I was a boy was my own physiological response to the image in the mirror.

"Sonia," I began, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. You saw me like this a long time ago, yes?"

"Yes, Li'l Bro," she assured me, "and more. So much of the true beauty in the world is hidden that I feel responsible to make latent beauty real. For this one, I had to get Li'l Bro to let Li'l Sis out to play. But I never thought you'd do it voluntarily. I always thought that I'd have to trick you or even force you into doing it. But being feminine is sacred to me. To coerce you to be a girl would have destroyed the joy in it for me as well as for you."

"I wish that I had given in to you earlier. You wanted me to enjoy it with you. Well, for what it's worth, I think I would have. But I was too scared."

"Still, Sasha, you're brave," my sister tried to assure me. "Courage is not the absence of fear; courage is being afraid, but doing it anyway."

"But we lost all that time that we might have dressed together, played together, worked together," I lamented to Sis. "I regret that lost time."

"Hey, Li'l Sis!" she stopped me. "We're not all grown-up yet! Besides, don't be such a drama queen! And do you remember what Mom tell us? 'It's never too late to do the right thing,' she's always saying."

Drama queen? Not again! That was twice in two days.

"What's next, Sis?" I queried.

"I don't have enough time this morning to go through everything you need to learn about make up. So, let's get you into your dress for the first time," she decided. "Then I can just do some touch-up work on your face."

"Don't worry," Tina said. "I can help you out with your make-up after school."

I scanned the room quickly but didn't see Tina. I looked at my left hand. No rings.

Sonia stepped back to the closet and took out a navy blue dress with white trim in nautical style. The design looked as if it had been taken from a sailor's uniform. I thought back and could remember Sis wearing it once or twice.

"I really liked this dress," she told me, "but my boobs grew too big and too fast for it, so I only got to wear it a few times. Let's see how it looks on you."

Sonia held the dress for me to step into and then zipped up the back and secured it by a fastener at the top.

"You may not be able to get this off without help," she said. "Not everyone handles back-zipping dresses easily. If I'm not here, Mom will help you out of it."

"Well, I'm not looking to take it off too soon," I assured her. "I promised you that I'd do this at least today through Monday, and I'll keep that promise, no matter how anxious or scared I might feel."

Somehow after all this, I felt a little less anxious, as if the butterflies had ceased to flutter in my tummy.

"And we'll have fun pretending to be Lesbians," Tina remarked, giggling.

What?

I looked for Tina but could not see her.

The butterflies in my tummy began fluttering again.

Sis redirected my attention towards the mirror as she adjusted my dress. As I watched the image in the mirror, the butterflies began to calm down.

"Li'l Bro," Sonia said studying me, "you make a very attractive Li'l Sis. By the time we're done, there's no way your appearance could give you away. Behavior, deportment, language; those are another issue. But you'll have a chance to work on those, too."

There was no mistaking that the image in the mirror was all-girl, looking fully feminine, and one hundred percent female. Sis was right. Looks would not give me away. I would only be given away by my speech or actions. Sis had done what she promised. I don't look like a boy in drag, but a real young woman.

The butterflies had given way to a gentle tingle and a very light feeling of-- giddiness? I didn't recognize this new feeling. I had never experience it before. But I knew that I liked it and wanted to keep it.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "Thanks, Sis! I just can't believe it! You really know what you're doing."

"Thank you, Li'l Bro," she said, hugging me, "for giving me the chance... Now we have to decide on your hair for today."

"Why not braids like you did yesterday evening?" I asked. "They looked so cute. Do you think braids would work with this dress?"

"I don't see why not," my sister giggled, "if you don't mind drawing attention to yourself."

"I'll prob'ly have to stay home all day," I reminded her. "So I may as well go for maximum effect."

She indicated that I should sit in my chair with my back to her, facing the mirror. Sitting on the edge of my bed, she began to braid my hair in two tails.

She smiled again. "I wonder if my maryjanes would fit you? Your style today seems to be going for sweet and cute."

Sonia did my braids fairly quickly, securing them with white ribbons tied in bows. I couldn't help blushing and batting my eyes. I thought I was supposed to.

"Gee, Sasha!" she grinned at me, "You're playing this to the hilt. You're certainly keeping your promise to me."

"It's easier," I replied, "and less embarassing to go all the way with it."

There were a couple pairs of women's shoes in my closet now, a pair of ballet flats and a pair of pumps with three-inch heels. Sis brought the pumps over and had me step into them.

"Ouch!" I said. "These feel a bit too tight, Sis. They seem to pinch my toes really bad."

"That's often the case with pumps, especially with higher heels. Let's try the flats."

We changed my shoes. They didn't pinch like the pumps did but still were a little tight.

"That's better, Sis," I conceded, "but I think my foot is just a bit larger than yours."

"I think you're right, Sasha," she confirmed. "Not to worry, though. I called Deb and asked her to bring a few of hers and her sister's shoes over. We should find something that fits for you. If you want, you can wear the slippers down to breakfast until she gets here. Now I want you to come to my room for just a moment."

So Sis led me into her room and indicated that I should sit at her vanity. She pulled her extra stool over and sat next to me. She very lightly worked a bit of eye makeup on me and some lipstick showes me how to blot away the excess. Then she showed me how to apply the lipgloss.

"This has a strawberry flavor to it," I noted, "It can taste it Tina and I kiss."

"Now you can taste it anytime," Sonia giggled.

"But you'll still like it best when you taste it on me!" Tina said, sitting on my sister's bed, behind her. She was wearing a beautiful green dress, trimmed in gold, and gold strappy shoes with four-inch heels. "And you look so cute in pigtails, Hubby!"

I grinned back to her as I noticed my wedding rings and French manicure. Tina blew me a kiss and I must have blushed, because I noticed Sis do a double take when she tried to match some rouge color to me face.

"Maybe you don't need any rouge today?" Sonia remarked.

Tina had vanished again.

"Sasha, I need to get ready myself, now," she said, I'm going to start with my makeup today. I'd just like you to watch all the steps I go through, which items I use, and what order they're done in. You'll need to develop a similar procedure of your own."

The next twenty minutes or more confirmed for me that so-called "girl power" is a very complex set of skills. I knew that from this day onward, I'd never again be able to think of pretty girls ipso facto as silly or stupid. The large, sloping tray of colors on my sister's vanity began to remind me of the control console of spacecraft in a science fiction movie. I wondered if it were as hard to navigate?

"Now, Li'l Sis," she said, "because you are now my Li'l Sis, we may sometimes need to help each other dress. That means we will often see each other in our underthings and even nude sometimes. But sisters can do that and behave themselves, as I'm certain you will. And the same goes for me."

Suddenly, I felt dizzy and a little light-headed as she said that.

*******************************

We met downstairs for breakfast and my Mom just beamed when she saw me

"Моя Саша!" Mom cried, emphasizing slightly the feminine form of the possessive adjective. I had not realized how subtle the expression could be in Russian.

The name "Sasha" is the usual nickname in Russian for "Alexander." In other words, it's mostly a Russian boy's name. Occasionally, it might be used as a girl's name in Russian, but it's not common. But in English, Sasha is usually a girl's name. So, my name was in a way almost unisex.

In Russian, adjectives must match the gender of their nouns. When Mom said to me, "Мой Саша!" [pron. moy SAH-shuh], that was "My dear little Alexander!" But when she said, "Моя Саша!" [pron. mah-YAH SAH-shuh], that was "My dear little Alexandra!" That's just a small change of vowel in Russian. But it changed my whole sense of self as soon as Mom said it.

"You look just adorable!" Mom smiled at me. She pulled me to her for a powerful hug. "I have a new daughter!"

Ow! I should have seen that coming. And it hurt! After all, I did understand Mom-logic well enough and it was the logical consequent. The rules of affectionate expression required that she pinch my cheeks. Which she did. Hard!

I never thought pinching cheeks were a Russian custom. It always seemed more an Italian prerogative to me. Maybe my Mom learned it from Tina's mother? Did I mention that Tina's family was Italian?

After pinching my cheeks, Mom delivered the obligatory kiss to my forehead.

"Sasha, you're every bit as cute as Sonia! That girl is so gifted in understanding faces. She's made you into a princess!"

I thought back to the history of the last Russian princess named Alexandra. Her fate was not so enviable. Fortunately, this is America and the year is well past 1918.

"I'm glad to do this with her," I said, "I feel better about it than I thought I would."

"I told you it would not be so bad," Mom reminded me.

"That you did," I acknowledged. "But there's more to this than dressing up for Sonia, isn't there."

"Да, моя Саша!" she replied [pron. DAH mah-YAH SAH-shuh, trans. Yes, my Sasha!]. "And after Sonia and your friends have gone to school, I will explain most of it to you. The rest must wait for your Papa to return."

I thought for a moment. Did Papa know what was going on? Did he know about the hallucinations? Did he know that I had agreed to dress up in Sonia's clothes over the weekend? Would he think me less manly? How much did he know? I was afraid to find out.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Sasha, answer the door!" Mom told me. "Let's see how you look to your friends."

While Mom continued to prepare breakfast, I went into the sitting room. The moment of truth? Everything comes down to this, opening the door...

"Sasha? Is that you?" Tina gasped aloud, nearly breathless.

"Omigosh!" Deb squealed. "Izzat you? Oh, wow!"

"Yeah, it's me," I answered them somewhat sheepishly.

"You look great, Sasha!" Tina declared. "Absolutely adorable!"

"You're so cute!" was Deb's verdict. "We never expected you to look this good."

"The majority of girls in the school aren't as pretty as you are right now!" Tina assured me. "Sonia really knew how to fix you up. You absolutely must stay like this for a while!

Tina, wearing the same gold-trimmed green dress and gold strappy heels I had envisioned, hugged me closer for a strong, passionate kiss. I could get used to this!

"Sasha," Deb addressed me, "your sister asked me to bring over some of my shoes 'cause hers are a little small for you."

I sat on the sofa while Deb knelt, dumping a few pairs from a large tote bag onto the floor. I slid off my sister's ballet pumps, as Deb placed a similar pair of shoes next to my feet. Sliding my feet into them, they felt nice but a little eerie through the nylons.

"Stand up and walk in them some," she said. "Do they feel okay?"

"They fit fine," I said. "Perfect, I think."

"Try the black pumps with the ankle straps next," Tina suggested. Those should go nicely with that dress."

I stepped into the pumps and Deb fastened the straps around my ankles. These fit quite well. More important, They didn't pinch. I stood up and walked around some. Still, they didn't pinch.

"Tina, whaddya think?" I asked.

"They look great with that dress," she said. "How do they feel?"

"They fit fine," I answered. "Standing at this angle all day might start to feel weird, but they seem comfortable now."

Deb expressed her own concern. "How's your balance on those three-inch heels, though?"

"My balance is good," I bragged. "Remember, I'm a hockey player and spend a lot of time on ice skates."

Sonia entered the living room just then.

"Li'l Sis and I have already had this conversation," she said. "She says it's also where she get's her legs. Show 'em off, Sasha!"

The high-heeled shoes readily emphasized the curves of my muscular legs. Sonia signaledfor me to walk a couple steps and turn around.

"Oh my!" Tina said. "You see that, Deb?"

"Yes I do!" Deb responded. "Can we let him go to school like that?"

"I'd be afraid for him," Tina worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked them.

"Li'l Sis, your legs are gorgeous. Almost every girl in school will wish she had legs like yours. I mean, you're going to come up against jealousy like you never knew could even exist!"

"What do I do, then?" I queried.

"Offer simple, honest advice on how you got them," Tina suggested.

"Well," I began. "It's mostly from playing ice hockey. Skating really makes me work all those muscles."

"Then ice skating is your first beauty tip when asked," Deb summarized form me.

My first day as a girl and I was already being briefed to give beauty advice? This had now gone from absurdly silly to positively surreal.

Sonia spoke up again, "Your next tips are the depilatory and the lotion you used for soothing you legs."

"And your pantyhose," said Tina, "are the perfect touch for your legs. You need to know the brand name, style, and weight of your hose. Be able to tell that to anyone who asks."

"The more graciously that you can offer those as your 'beauty tips,' the less jealous the other girls will be," Deb advised.

"Sasha," Sonia began, "the only reason I'm not jealous of your legs is that I'm already a little taller and that takes adds some desirability since I don't have your muscular devopment."

"And I'm not jealous of Sasha's legs," Tina revealed, giggling, "because he-- or she-- likes to oggle mine!"

Deb and Sis squealed at Tina's disclosure while I could merely blush.

"Good morning, everyone!" Mom announced, "Breakfast is ready."

*******************************

We all adjourned to the kitchen and sat down at table for breakfast, taking up our usual seats, Tina at my right, Sonia to my left, Mom and Deb across from me. Only my mother was not wearing a dress, but pants.

"Here we are on Friday morning," Mom announced, "and for the first time, Sasha is here as my daughter."

Everyone began sweetening their tea with strawberry jam. I did so and buttered my whole wheat toast.

"Thanks for bringing those shoes over, Deb," I said appreciatively. "They seem to be my size and quite comfortable."

"You're welcome, Sasha," she replied. "Keep them as long as you need them. My sister and I have lot of shoes. The styles I brought are so basic that we had more than pair of those. But it's surprising that you take to heels so easily."

"Belive me," I said, "it's the ice hockey. And it's given me more than just me pretty legs. It helps balance, too."

"Maybe we should have a girls' hockey team next season?" Deb suggested.

"They could be hot on and off the ice!" I hoped aloud, smiling.

"And you could be our first cheerleader," Sis suggested.

"Too bad, girls," I said, seeking to cushion the blow, "but I'll be playing. Can't be a cheerleader for you!"

"Aw!" Tina groaned. "You'd be so cute in a cheerleading uniform!"

I remembered the dreams that I had overnight. As much fun as the invitation for cheerleading might be, I really need to be on the field and on the ice. I'm a doer and a participant; I just can't watch from the sidelines.

"Sorry, girls!" I apologized. "But duty calls! I'm midfielder at soccer and right forward at ice hockey. If I don't play, I'd let my teams down. That wouldn't be right, would it?"

"That's okay!" Deb relented. "We don't want those legs of yours to lose their nice tone!"

"Careful, Deb!" Sis cautioned our friend. "We don't want it going to his-- her head!"

They all giggled.

"By the way," I began, "baseball season starts soon. I usually play at second base or shortstop."

"Ooh! I kinda like that! Tina remarked. "The shortstop wears Prada!"

This time, even I giggled. Like everyone else there.

"Don't you ladies have a softball team at school?" I asked. "Like, sports aren't just for boys, ya know?"

"I'd be willing to go out for some sport," offered Sis, "if Sasha would go out for cheerleading."

"Not fair, Sis!" I objected. "You know that would conflict with the soccer and hockey seasons. And we don't even know if the cheerleading squad would allow me to join. You ought to go out for something anyway. Look at the advantage you'd get from firming up your legs and tush!"

More giggling from around the table.

"Like, I think Sasha's right," Tina conceded. "Maybe we could all go out for a sport together?"

"That might be fun," Deb acknowledged, "but not all of us would necessarily do well in the same sport."

"Deb's right on that score," I affirmed. "You need to find which sports are right for each of you."

"Well, Li'l Sis," asked Sonia, "what should I play?"

"Sis, with your height, your build, and your energy," I enumerated, "you're perfect for volleyball as a team sport. And I've seen you play tennis. Why haven't you gone out for the school team yet? In fact, you and Tina would make a competitive doubles team. Again, I've seen you both play."

"Sonia," Tina addressed my sister, "tryouts for tennis are next week. Want to?"

"Why not?" Sis answered. "If my Li'l Bro can try out for Li'l Sis and make it, anything's possible."

I broke out into giggles again.

"How about me?" Deb wondered.

Deb already played girls' varsity basketball. She knew she was good, too.

"You already know what you're good at. I don't need to give you sports advice, Deb," I said. "But if you all want to go out for a sport together, as Tina suggests, then consider going out for the girls' softball team. I think every one of you has a reasonable shot at making it."

By that time we had all finished breakfast and it was time to see everyone off to school. As scared as I had been to dress up at first, now I was disappointed that I had to stay home instead of going to school as a girl.

We all went outside to the schoolbus stop and engaged in a big group hug and exchange of kisses. I could get used to this, too. Mom was there, too, participating in the send-offs.

"I love you, Sasha," Tina reminded me. "You know I can't wait to get home to my husband."

I noticed her wedding rings and mine as we broke out of our hugs and a moment later the rings and my French manicure vanished. Then I helped Tina to board the schoolbus. Yes, I might dress and look like a girl, but my mother still raised a gentleman. Which is maybe why she and I got a couple stares as I helped her onto the bus. Mom and I then waved the bus off.

"Моя Саша!" Mom addressed me. "Let's clean up the kitchen from breakfast. After that, I want to tell you about your Papa and me and why we are married."