Kate, Part 2 Tales of Gender and Glass By Ricky

Having made the decision to live as Kate over the spring break, I spent even more time on the net, reading and learning. What did men with a need to crossdress do before the Internet? It must have been incredibly lonely. The evening we agreed to let Kate out into the real world I realized my small selection of clothes wouldn't work for an extended period in public.

So we went shopping again. Besides, I liked shopping for Kate; it's much more fun than buying clothes for Steve. The first stop was the mall, but only to get my ears pierced with little gold studs. I left the mall behind and hit the Volunteers of America thrift store, were I found a good and cheap source of clothes a normal woman would wear for an ordinary day, even if the selection on the larger end of the range wasn't quite so good. They also had purses, something I hadn't needed up until then.

Much as I was coming to love skirts, I realized that they did make me stand out in a world of women in slacks. I wasn't so sure I wanted to stand out. That had made me order a gaff, which was just as uncomfortable as it looked. Damned uncomfortable but on my first venture into the real world I didn't want to screw anything up.

Does this sound too much like a goal-oriented man instead of a relaxed woman? I know I went a little crazy, but once Stephanie agreed to come with me I wanted to do it right. All through my apprenticeship as a girlfriend she had been tolerant of my antics while being supportive at the same time. Not once did she offer a comment about creating a monster, or even make reference to Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. She coached me when I needed it and let me plunge undaunted into the Jungle of Femininity. I thought of it as a kind of Summer Session, where they pack an entire semester of learning into a few weeks.

I found a salon in Rochester that served crossdressers, far enough away from Brockport that I was unlikely to meet anyone I knew, although I suppose anyone I met there would have shared my interest in crossdressing. My meeting with Patty in the lingerie department had made me more cautious about shopping in town.

I booked an appointment for the Friday before Spring Break officially started. Since the students weren't the only ones eager to get an early start, this teacher had agreed to informally suspend classes without the administration knowing about it. I'll not repeat Stephanie's comments, as a second grade teacher is not afforded the opportunity to negotiate unscheduled days off with her students. She had to work.

The salon assured me that they had facilities for me to change into Kate so that I could arrive as plain old Steve. Friday afternoon I was too antsy to just wait around the house, so I went shopping again. I was beginning to think Kate was a spendthrift. Steve wasn't much for shopping, but Kate liked picking out outfits. Go figure.

I entered the small salon with no small amount of trepidation. No matter how welcoming they were to crossdressers, this was the first time anyone but Stephanie was going to know I had become a crossdresser. It was scary, but I was determined. The place was just off Monroe Avenue and a bit out of the way, not conspicuous at all. Marcia, the owner, greeted me with the voice I had heard on the phone.

"Hello. You must be Kate. Just come on in and I'll show you what we can do for you." I nodded nervously. "Relax, nobody's going to bite you — unless you pay extra, that is. Come over here and sit down."

"I guess it's obvious this is my first time."

"It gets easier with practice, you know. You look like you have a good bone structure for your female side. Do you have any idea what kind of look you are going to want?"

"Yes, I do." I took out a snap of me as Kate after Stephanie had done her best.

"Not too bad at all. You do that yourself?"

"No, a friend helps me with hot rollers and such, but I'm learning to do it myself. I want you to make the curls permanent but I need a cut that will let me be Steve as well."

"You don't want much, do you? You ever had a permanent before?"

"No."

"Well, it's easy on the victim - I mean customer - but the stuff stinks to high heaven. Don't worry, the smell will wash out, but the curls will stay in for quite a while. In a couple of months they'll start to relax, then you can get them done again or let it fade back to where you used to be. OK?"

"Sure. I'll decide what I want to do when that happens."

"Good. Just realize that once I do it you can't undo it. You're going to have a more feminine look. Will you be able to handle that?"

"As long as it isn't too over the top."

"Lots of men have curls these days. Once people get used to the new look you shouldn't have too much trouble. it's those first few days that are going to be difficult. Now, I'll do your hair and then Stella will take you into the back room and do the makeover. How much makeup have you done?"

"I've been practicing for a while and think I have the basics down pretty well. My friend is one of those women who seldom uses makeup, so she can't help me too much."

"Lord, people like that will put me out of business! Good thing crossdressers are a steady clientele. What Stella will do is show you some of the tricks and let you try them for yourself, just to get an idea how to do it right. You're going to have to practice quite a bit before you can do it easily, but I expect you know that." I nodded. "Good, she'll do a bang up job on you. Once you've had a bit of practice, your own mother won't know you when she's done. That's something most crossdressers appreciate."

"I suppose so. I don't intend to tell my mother." I laughed. If she were still with us, no doubt she would have been appalled.

"Your choice. You can change in the room through the door on the right. Get dressed all the way, just like you'll be when you leave the place."

I had brought Kate's clothes in my school bag, the one I usually lug around filled with texts and papers. I already had my bra on, so I took off my pants and shirt, drew my breast forms from the bag and slipped them in place. There — that felt better. I had been dissatisfied by my lack of hips whenever I looked in the mirror, so I had gotten a padded panty for my first outing. I put it on and it felt weird, like I was wrapped in gauze or something, but my outline was much more feminine.

The weather had stubbornly remained downright cold. I had chosen my dress because it was made from a heavy fabric, with a pair of thick tights it should keep me warm. I was looking forward to wearing it where I could walk freely and feel it around my body. With the padded panty I had that bit of loose fabric between bust and hip that real women have and I was pleased.

If I thought having Stephanie fuss over me was wonderful, Marcia took it to a whole new level. I've never had my hair washed by someone else before; feeling the warm water cascading as you lay back on the sink edge is very relaxing. My nervousness faded as Marcia's capable hands lathered me up and washed me off.

The actual perm was much like having Stephanie do my hair, except Marcia used a lot more little bitty rollers. As she worked she gave me tips on how to keep the style fresh and looking good once I was on my own. She was right, the solution did stink, but by that time my nose had gotten used to the sulfurous smell of the salon. I sat and waited the prescribed time, was neutralized and rinsed, then sat under a big, old fashioned hair dryer. The design evidently hadn't changed much since the 1940s. It looked just like the ones you see in the black and white movies from that era.

As I sat the salon began to fill with other customers. No one paid me any attention and I tried to return the favor. There were some flamboyant characters that certainly aroused my curiosity. My only complaint was the magazine selection — I'm not enough of a woman to appreciate what the stars are doing or the latest trends in makeup and fashion.

A timer dinged and Marcia removed the rollers and brushed my hair out, using a blower to give it some shape and body. When I put on my glasses again, I was pleased to see Kate sitting in the chair. I was thankful that my wire-rimmed frames were just as suitable for Kate as they were for Steve.

"Very nice, Marcia. You have a true gift."

"Thanks, Kate. It's always nice to help people make their dreams come true."

"That's funny, I had never dreamed I'd be doing this. It's only in the last couple of months that I discovered crossdressing. I guess that's pretty unusual for someone my age."

"A lady never tells about her age - or whether she's a lady. I had one customer who didn't start until she was 79 and her wife passed on. I hope you enjoy it, Kate. You look pretty good."

"Thanks."

"So go back there and let Stella make you beautiful. Enjoy yourself!"

I won't bore you with the lessons, anyone reading this has probably been through the process. What I really wanted was to learn how to do an absolute minimum job of makeup, one that would hide what showed of my beard but not shout "Look Everybody! She's wearing makeup!" It's not as easy as it sounds when you're trying to cover up a beard, even one as light as mine.

Stella was good at her trade It was much easier to do a good job when someone shows you how. DVD lessons were good enough to get me started, but her lessons filled in gaps I didn't even know were there. I had learned how to do my own makeup by trial and error, with many errors. Each time I failed, I would just wipe it off and start over again until I got completely frustrated.

The fun part was the full-blown makeover for that evening. Stella was a genius; she did amazing things to my face! By the time she was done, I looked pretty damn good, even if I was completely biased. Looking in the mirror I had complete confidence that I could carry off my first night in public as Kate. If I wasn't so afraid of mussing my makeup, I would have kissed her. I did the next best thing and bought all the supplies I would need to make myself beautiful. Don't ask how much it cost, I don't want to tell anyone.

I strolled down Monroe Avenue, an area of small shops and interesting people. I felt quite comfortable, at least when I wasn't concentrating on how I was walking. On impulse I dropped into Archimage, a palace of a thousand delights, and found a necklace that went with my blouse, so I wore it out of the shop. There was a nail salon a couple of blocks from the hairdressers, so I went in to have my nails done.

I normally keep my nails clipped short. As a kid I was the despair of my parents because I was constantly chewing on them. I don't really know why I did it; it just felt good. Now that I think of it, I can say that about the whole crossdressing thing. In any case, I had started to let them grow, but there was a limit to how far I was willing to go. I had a garden to take care of and extremely long fingernails would be a real pain. I had enough trouble getting the dirt from under my short nails.

Things had been going so well that I was hardly even nervous when I went into the nail salon. The girl behind the counter — she was so young I couldn't call her a woman — was so stereotypically the blonde beach girl I had to suppress a chuckle. She inspected my hands and happily filed and buffed away while I relaxed in the comfortable chair. I was tempted to get a set of false nails so I could really show off, but, thinking of how much I had already spent that day, I just had them manicured and painted for the first time in my life. Once again, the feeling of being fussed over was a true joy. Maybe if more men had the experience of such attention more often, they would stop with all the macho bullshit.

Feeling like a million dollars, I wandered some more, then drove back home. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to scratch the itches that appeared by the dozens on my face? Without the distractions of shopping and having my nails done, I might as well have used poison ivy as a foundation. I hadn't even considered just what I would go through once I was made up. It was ridiculous! How did women manage to keep their fingers off their faces?

I had told Stephanie I had a surprise for her and to get dressed up for something special. I had reservations at the Avon Inn, a lovely place in a town far enough away that no one would recognize us. They're on the web (Who isn't these days. Try Avoninn.com if you want to see the place.) I had been there before for one of my colleague's birthday parties. The food was good and the atmosphere was casual but elegant. The main hall was lined with pictures of wedding parties that had been there over the years. It was a very welcoming place.

I pulled up in Steph's driveway and got out. She must have heard the car pull up, because she was there before I could ring the bell.

"Oh my God! Kate!" she squealed and I knew it had all been worth it.

"I guess it worked." I said in my best voice.

"You have ear rings! They're so cute!" She hugged me and I feared for my makeup.

"Cute enough to go out with and celebrate our temporary release from bondage, girlfriend?"

"Only if you let me buy the sparkling grape juice since I don't drink champagne. I knew we were going to have to do this sometime. We need to celebrate!"

"Then hop in. I have reservations at the Avon Inn."

"Nice! Just let me get my purse, OK?"

"OK!"

Within minutes we were off, cruising down the secondary roads through the farm country. It was a lovely evening for a drive and the company made it all the better. We didn't talk much on the way, but that was just fine, we didn't need to. Modern America has lost the capacity for amicable silence between friends. It's only reactionary holdouts like us that keep it alive with our friendship.

The girl at the reception desk didn't so much as blink an eye and our server didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. By then I had gotten used to the feel of my padded panty. One thing for sure, I wasn't going to have to worry about a sore butt on a hard chair when I wore it. I felt like I was sitting on a cloud.

I was almost disappointed, I had been working on what to say if someone decided I wasn't really a woman and I didn't have to use any of it.

If you're ever at the Avon Inn, I recommend the French onion soup au gratin. Very good! I was just starting to enjoy my Garlic Lime Salmon when I realized I had made a major mistake. I was far enough away from town to avoid my students, but the colleague whose birthday party had introduced me to the Inn was being seated just three tables away! I lost my appetite then and there. It wasn't long before Stephanie noticed I wasn't eating.

"What's wrong, Kate?"

"See the man in the gray suit a couple of tables over? He teaches in the same building I do. He's the one who introduced me to this place," I said as quietly as I could.

"Well, I suppose under the circumstances I won't ask for an introduction then."

"But what if...."

"He notices you acting in a peculiar manner and looks more closely?"

"That doesn't help," I murmured.

"Then just act like the lady you are and no one will be any the wiser."

Stephanie is always full of good advice, almost always when I don't want to hear it. She hadn't been kidding about nagging me; she had been a veritable Drill Sergeant of Femininity for the past couple of months. She gradually drilled away at my unconscious masculine habits and filled the holes with femininity. I trusted her good sense and I gradually felt my panic recede as I finished the meal.

The only hitch came when it came time to pay the bill. I had not thought of getting cash for the evening, so I had to use my credit card. The server gave me a rather close look when I presented the card with the name Stephen printed boldly on it. Did he read me? Or did he assume it was my husband's name? I'll never know. In any case, he was the personification of politeness.

The Avon Inn has some lovely gardens, even in the chill of early spring I wanted to show them to Stephanie. Before I did I had to face the ultimate test of my new identity. I pushed open the door marked 'Women' and prayed that there would be no one else in the place. To my immense relief there wasn't. I sat and concluded my business, then washed my hands and checked my makeup. Still in good condition, I had successfully suppressed the urge to scratch, so I just applied a little more lipstick and gave my hair a brush. It was a thrill to open my purse — MY purse — and do that. Silly, but it was!

The gardens were beautiful in the twilight; throwing caution to the wind, I took Stephanie's hand as we walked. She simply smiled and we enjoyed each other's company. There is a lovely wrought iron bench where, despite the chill, we sat and watched the sunset in companionable silence, enjoying each other's presence.

On the way back home, Stephanie sat closer to me than was her wont, her warmth against me a very pleasant feeling..

"Kate?" There was a question in her voice.

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing all this?"

I took my time to give her a straight answer and she was content to wait.

"At first it was a joke, a kind of silly joke we were sharing. I liked you as soon as I met you, Steph, you're fun to be around. The more I got to know you, the more I liked you, but that day you threw the horseshit at me something changed."

"It was an accident! I didn't throw it!"

"Quiet, who's telling this story? That's what did it, Steph. I felt like your girlfriend that day; it was something that I had never experienced before. Men just don't think or talk that way, don't share that closeness. I didn't want to lose that closeness, that connection. We joked about clothes, but I wonder now how much was really something both of us knew unconsciously. I half fell in love with you that day."

There, I'd said it. Her hand tightened on my thigh but she said nothing.

"I suppose it helps that I liked wearing your panties, but that's not all of it. The more I became your girlfriend, the happier you seemed; that means a lot to me. What I hadn't expected was how much I enjoyed trying to be a woman, at least as much as any man can. It may have started as a lark, but I like wearing a bra, I like skirts and stockings. I never had any desire to wear them before, but I do now."

"It's not just the clothes, though. When I get dressed up as Kate, I've learned to think differently. Part of it was listening to you, really listening when you talked to me. I've never had anyone trust me the way you have, Steph. It's a wonderful thing, a brightness in my soul that has never been there. Even when you're not with me, I think like Kate when I'm dressed like her. The first time I graded my student's papers while I was being Kate was quite an experience. I said the same things I would have said as Steve, but the emphasis was different – a little less judgmental, a little more guiding. My students have noticed it, too and I think I'm a better teacher for it.

"My life has changed completely and it's because of you and for you, but it's also for me. I feel like a whole person. I want to be Kate for the next week and learn what she has to offer. And I want you to be with me and help me. You've become very special to me, Stephanie."

"Oh Kate, I...." Her hand again tightened on my thigh. Before she could frame a reply, we turned into the driveway.

"Want to come in and see what I bought?"

"Try to keep me out!"

I popped open the trunk and removed several bags. I handed her a couple and took the rest.

"I'll say you've been shopping. Why didn't you take me?"

"Because you were entertaining a bunch of small children."

I laid my purchases out on the kitchen table.

"Kate, you don't just show them to me, you model them for me. That's how it's done, girlfriend."

"Ever the teacher, eh? In that case, which one first?

"The sundress. They didn't have one in my size, did they?"

"I stuck to the thrift stores, but they have to have thrift stores in Corning. However, I'm leaving my credit cards at home. I want to have enough money left to live on."

I started to wiggle my way out of my dress, but it was warm enough to make it stick to my back. I felt her gentle hands pull the fabric away and help me get it over my head. Once it was off, she wrapped her arms around me and held me for a moment. For the first time since I had become her girlfriend, I started to get an erection, which was not what I wanted quite yet.

"I can't put on the sundress if you don't let go."

"What a shame!" She nibbled on my ear and my erection became unmistakable beneath my panties. "Steve?"

"Mmmm...."

"It's time for Kate to go away for a while."

What happened next is exactly what you think happened next, but that's all I'm going to say about it.

---

I awoke with the delicious feeling of having someone in the bed next to me, her breast warm beneath my hand. It had been a long time for both of us, but the wait had been worth it. I played with the breast so temptingly under my hand until she began to stir, then kissed her gently.

"Mmmm. That's nice. Do it again." I did it again, then we did it again. Slowly, languorously, thoroughly. In the afterglow we lay dreamily watching the ripples of shadow on the ceiling as the wind blew the slats of the window shade.

"Why did we wait so long to do this?" she asked in a small voice.

"Because I don't think either one of us was ready until now. I gave up on one-night stands a long time ago. They may satisfy the urge for a moment, but I always felt guilty, felt like I was using someone instead of treating them as a whole person. After all you've told me, I knew a quick fling with a with my landlady would be downright cruel."

"That's what makes you so special, you think about the other person before you think about yourself. Not many men are like that."

"I can't be that unusual."

"I'm not going to touch that one with a ten foot pole, GIRLfriend."

"Good thing I'm only a few inches long, then."

"Very good, indeed. I'm glad I had my tubes tied, or we would have been very frustrated last night."

"There are other ways, my dear. Lovely as it was to find myself in you, I could have waited until we were safe. I'm not about to make anyone an unwed mother."

"You see, that just isn't the way most men would think, at least not the ones I've met. You have the soul of a woman; that's why you can be Kate and seem so real. How many men could do that?"

"I really don't know. Thinking like Kate isn't hard at all. The sharing, the closeness is just natural when I'm around you. I've always been a bit of a recluse, but the seeds were there. Funny how this all started with gardening; once you were there to nurture those seeds, they grew and flowered. But making Kate a real person to anyone but you isn't as easy. At first it was a lark, a silly game we were playing. What I hadn't expected was just how good it felt to simply be wearing the clothes. I suppose wearing a bra is nothing special for you, you do it because it keeps those pretty tits of yours from bouncing around and hurting."

"Too right! I also wear a bra because there would be a scandal if I didn't. School administrators are pretty conservative."

"What was it like the first time you wore a bra? Can you remember?"

"Lord, yes, I remember! I started developing early; I was ten years old when I started to need a bra. It was a funny thing though, getting your first bra was a sign of growing up and most girls couldn't wait to try on a training bra. On the other hand, really needing to wear a real bra at ten was embarrassing; it set me apart. I got teased a lot until my friends caught up with me. Well, they didn't exactly catch up with me; I still had the biggest tits in my class. Made it easy to get dates, but boys tended to be more interested in my cleavage than in me.

"I suppose I would have been drooling along with all the rest if I had known you then. The first time I saw you in that tank top, I had a hard time behaving myself."

"I noticed. But you were polite about it and I liked you for that. My sister Lucy had it worse than me, though."

"Oh...." I prompted.

"Yeah, she eventually grew into an F cup."

"Oh my god! Back in high school, I probably would have been right there scoping her out and making a total ass of myself. Now I can imagine what she had to go through, I can't tell you how many times I've bounced off a doorframe in the last few weeks and I'm only a C cup."

"The worst part was this place was a dairy farm while we were growing up."

It took me a second to put the pieces together. "Your poor sister must have been warped for life! I can see a herd of horny, acne ridden teenage boys following her going 'Moo'!"

"Exactly! She finally had breast reduction surgery and now she's smaller than me. She's very happy about it.

"You know, if I'd heard that story a year ago, it would never have occurred to me that big tits could be a problem. From a guy's point of view, the bigger the better. You know what? After the first couple weekends as Kate, I had a minor backache. I finally figured out my muscles were adjusting to the weight of the breast forms. I can only imagine what it was like for your sister."

"You should have seen the crevices her bra straps dug in her shoulders — Grand Canyon time."

It's weird how I never gave much thought to how a bra works until I started wearing one; now I can only regret all the years I missed. The closest guys come to a first bra is maybe the first time we wear a jockstrap. It's not quite the same, you put it on for PE and then you take it off. It's not something you do every day. It's a Rite of Passage for girls, guys in our culture don't have anything equivalent."

"My, you've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"Yeah. You think you know yourself and then something happens that lets you know there are corners in your mind you haven't explored. What I'm trying to say is just how good it felt to be wearing a bra that first time. I was playing a game, half thinking I could get you in bed if things went right."

"Were you really?"

"Absolutely. That day with your mother and all the jokes about bras and panties started me thinking, but spending the afternoon with you and being treated more like a girlfriend than a guy gave me a feeling like I've never had before. I don't make friends too easily, but you were suddenly the closest friend I had had in years. I didn't really think it out back then, but it went something like this: If being your girlfriend was such a wonderfully satisfying experience, then trying to be more like a girl might make it be all the more rewarding, so I put your panties on the next morning when I got dressed.

"What I didn't expect was how much I liked wearing your panties. Wearing them was a lark, but after a day I really liked how nylon felt. The first thing I did when I got back from class was to try on your bra. I was frustrated it wouldn't fit me, you know. I could barely get it hooked and the straps cut into me like blazes, but it was enough to make me want more."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. If panties felt so good, I wanted to know what a real, properly fitting bra would feel like. The only thing that kept me from going out and getting one for myself was your promise to buy one with me. I guess it's as close as a guy can come to what you felt like waiting for your first bra. I wanted to do it right. Since I knew I wouldn't be growing any tits of my own, I had to buy them. I guess I knew I was committed to this girlfriend thing when I actually bought the forms."

"I could hardly believe you'd done that. I know how expensive breast forms are."

"Well, they weren't cheap but it didn't beggar me. I have a decent inheritance stashed in the bank from my parents and living the single life with a good job and a modest lifestyle has let me build up a bit of a nest egg. I may complain about being an adjunct, but it's a good life."

"And just how committed to the single life are you?"

"That pretty much depends on you, but I gave it up last night."

"Did you now?"

"I found a couple of good reasons," I replied and caressed her breasts.

"So by coupling we've become a couple?

"I damn well hope so. Have we?

"If you feed me breakfast, I might agree."

"Damn! I finally get you in bed and now all you can think of is getting out."

---

It had been a long time since I had shared a bathroom with anyone. I could see Stephanie watching me in the mirror as I shaved. There was a visible layer of dust on my old electric shaver; I had been using a triple blade in my attempts to keep Kate's face smooth for quite a while now.

"It must be a pain to have to do that every day," she remarked.

"Too right. Kate has to do it twice a day if she's going to be around in the late evening. It's enough to make me think of electrolysis."

"Your beard isn't that heavy."

"Not really. At one time I was upset it looked so thin and patchy, but now I'm happy enough I'm not some bushy brute. Funny how things change, isn't it?"

"Speaking of changes, I hate to put on yesterday's clothes after getting all clean."

"You could run naked through the yard and go get your own clothes, or I can give you some underwear."

"You know damn well that yours won't fit me."

"You didn't let me finish opening my packages last night, girlfriend. I had a present for you in there."

"You do? How thoughtful. Should I close my eyes?"

"Not unless you want to. I intend to keep mine open and on your delectable body until you finally cover it up."

"Stop that!"

"Not a chance. You're the one who told Kate to go away."

"Behave yourself, we can't spend the entire day in bed…."

"Think we can do it again? I have to admit I'm stretched a bit thin right now. It will take awhile to recharge, if you know what I mean."

"I know very well what you mean. You can demonstrate it tonight and no sooner!"

We didn't talk much for a little while.

"We need to get dressed. I want to share the news with Kate. My girlfriend would be very annoyed if I didn't tell her that I'm in love."

"You know, this could get very confusing."

"I suppose it could. Just remember — if you're wearing a bra, you're probably Kate. If you're only wearing panties, you're probably Steve."

"I'm not wearing anything right now. What does that make me?"

"Exasperating! You were telling me you had a present for me."

"Of course. Come in the living room and I'll show you."

I had let my enthusiasm run away with me yesterday. There was this emerald green dress that really caught my eye. It was one of those crossover styles that draw your attention to the breasts, with a tie in the back to make very sure they're clearly defined. The half sleeves and full skirt were cut to look like leaf edges and there was a faint pattern to the material that completed the leaf motif.

I took the dress out of the shopping bag and handed it to Stephanie. Her reaction was all I could hope for. When she let me breathe again, I gave her the bra and panty set I had gotten for her to wear with it.

"Why, they're lovely. I've never had anyone give me a bra as a present before. Well, besides my mother when I was a kid."

"That makes us even. I've never bought a bra for anyone but myself before. I confused the poor lady at the checkout by getting two of everything — in different sizes."

"You sly devil. How did you explain that?"

"I told her one was for my wife and the other for my girlfriend. That way I wouldn't have to worry about getting them mixed up."

I took out the mates to her outfit in my size and set them on the table. "I wasn't going to let you have all the fun by yourself."

"Kate, you have more balls than any girlfriend I've ever had."

"And you'd be the one to know all the details. I even signed their mailing list and in a few weeks my mailbox will be filled with catalogs. Oh, I almost forgot." I fished out a pair of pantyhose from the bag. "For the woman who has fewer pantyhose than I do. I didn't get any shoes, you'll have to supply those yourself."

"Piker. So what's left in the bag?"

"The rest of the fashion show you didn't want to see last night."

"You're impossible!"

"No, merely improbable. Much like the chances of meeting a woman like you."

I ceased breathing for a while; my mouth was otherwise occupied.

"We ought to cause quite a stir when we arrive at the B&B in these."

"Not on your life. What would they look like after a couple of hours in the car. We take them with us and wear them to the museum tomorrow."

"There you go being all practical again. I suppose I'll have to give you your other present then."

"Another?"

"Something in the ether must have told me you were going to need lots of underwear once you let me start removing them from your body. I intend to do so every chance I get!"

"You have that lovely bra on so you're officially Kate, besides you'll ruin your panty lines if you keep this up! No more sex until we get to the B&B. Then quiet sex only or they might get upset."

"Who was the one screaming last night?"

"Well…"

"And this morning. I just discretely grunted. Since I wasn't wearing a bra I grunted like Steve would have."

"Stop it!

"Then get dressed. Here's your new bra. You will note it matches the one you just cited to keep us out of bed."

"You are something else!"

"And we shall not specify any further. I need to wash off the makeup I didn't have time to remove last night. For that matter, you might want to remove my makeup from your body before we go out."

---

One good part of traveling as two women was that I didn't have any urge to hog the driving. Since Stephanie knew where she was going and I didn't she took the wheel. One bad thing about traveling as two women was the number of suitcases in the trunk and back seat. We had elected to leave my pickup behind since the gas mileage on Steph's sedan was far better. I tried to keep clothing to a minimum, but with chilly weather calling for bulky clothing that meant fat suitcases. We might only be a day or two, but we had the entire week and you never knew!

So much for SPRING break. The weather was in the thirties, the hills on the way down remained cloaked in their grey winter clothing, unlike the two women in bright peasant blouses and embroidered skirts. Yes, Stephanie had put on a skirt for a change. I suppose the exhilaration of vacation must have made her reckless. The exhilaration of being a woman was all I needed to dress like a gypsy. Who cares about the weather?

Actually, with a decent coat, a long skirt is surprisingly comfortable in the cool weather. Just don't move around too much and let the chilly air inside!

Getting out of the car after finding the B&B I couldn't believe how alive it felt to be standing in the open before the gingerbread confection of a house. It was surrounded by hills, which I resolutely thought of as soon-to-be-green, on a quiet street. Lifting and dropping the fearsome gargoyle knocker on the front door soon brought a tall, grey haired man to the door.

"Welcome, ladies. I'm your host Richard Wilkins. Do you need any help with your luggage?"

Somewhere deep inside of me Steve cried "No!" but he was muted by the lovely feeling of having someone take care of things for you. That may be just as rewarding a part of being a woman as the freedom or the clothes..

"Thank you, sir. That would be lovely!" I answered.

"You have the Twin Room, if I recall correctly."

Oops. When we reserved a room twin beds were a reasonable compromise. That changed last night! Stephanie was a bit faster to react than I was.

"That's the one we reserved, but the more we thought about it the more we think the view from your Blue Room would be worth the climb up the stairs. Is it still available?"

"I'm sorry, it's been taken. The Red Room is open, however. The side window does look over the town like the main window in the Blue Room."

"Could we look at it? The pictures on line were lovely, but it's so much nicer to see it directly"

"Of course. If you'll follow me?"

I had to hand it to Steph, she managed that without having to tell Richard we wanted a nice, big bed to cavort in. Was there going to be any trouble with two women sharing a bed?

The bed was a Queen size, much to our anticipated delight, but we made a fuss about the view of the town. It was a lovely view, to be sure, but not really our first consideration. The only drawback to the room was that it didn't have its own bathroom. I hoped our fellow lodgers were not the kind to linger in the communal facilities. I didn't relish standing in the hall in my nightgown, waiting my turn.

"It's as lovely as the pictures made it look, Richard." I told him. "We would want it for at least two nights, maybe more if things work out. We have no firm plans, just a desire to get away from it all during the spring break."

"Not much of a spring so far. Maybe you should have gone to the beaches in Florida? He suggested with a grin.

"We'll leave that to our students, dear man." Stephanie replied. "Although I remember back in '81 I did have quite a time there."

"I'm afraid we can't supply any sand but, if can ignore the weather and brought your bikinis, we do have a hot tub on the deck."

"At my age I'm not sure if wearing a bikini would test your gallantry or your tolerance, and I don't care to find out. Thank you for the compliment, all the same."

"I'm sure my gallantry would be up to the task and, if it wasn't, my wife would find a way to keep me in line."

"And a gentleman, as well. What more could we ask?"

"Anything your heart desires. If we can help the service is yours."

With a bow he closed the door to the room.

"Was that a come on?"

"Not unless his wife wants to make it a foursome. That would give them a bit of a surprise. By the way, I think I would enjoy seeing you in a bikini."

"Then shall we see if we can find one? Or maybe two. Think we would look cute in matching bikinis?"

"You seem to have been taken in by the illusion I project."

"Sometimes I forget, but it was fun to watch your face when I made the suggestion."

"I would have preferred an indecent suggestion, myself."

"That comes later. Do you really want to have to get dressed and do your makeup over for dinner?"

"It would be worth it!"

Perhaps, but we came here to see the sights. Let's check out the Gaffer District and see if there's more to it than tourist hype."

"Does that mean I have to put on my gaff? That thing is a pain!"

"Considering your recent suggestions, you may need to be restrained. In this usage a Gaffer is someone who blows glass, you should pardon the expression."

"How can I restrain myself when you keep feeding me straight lines?"

"In your case they should be LGBT lines. Do you have the camera? You can't be a tourist without a camera."

"The cell phone will do for today. I don't want to lug around anything more than necessary today."

Locking the room we went down the hall, but as we approached the stairs we could hear voices from below. I must have truly become a woman because we both stopped and shamelessly listened in.

"Richard? Why did you move those two women to the red Room? There's only one bed in there."

"They did the moving, supposedly for the view. If you ask me, they sure wouldn't be interested in two beds!"

"Richard!"

"Martha! If they aren't lovers then I need to get new glasses. If I weren't married to the most wonderful woman in the world I might be willing to share a bed with either one of them, myself."

"Richard!"

"When you keep an inn you have to keep out of your patron's business, love. Lovers or friends sharing expenses, their money's still good."

"I suppose, but I still don't like it. It's not natural."

"If we lived a natural life we would be squatting around a fire in the woods and starving to death. I prefer civilization and warm houses. Lesbian couples are a small price to pay."

"I don't know why I married you! You are the most exasperating man!"

"But I'm not a lesbian. That must count for something."

"No, but you're still exasperating. I'll try to be more modern, I suppose. As long as they don't try anything with me."

"Darling, would you be going out of your way to proposition one of our guests?"

"As if I would tell YOU!"

"As a purely hypothetical inquiry, then?

"Hypothetically, you know darned well I wouldn't!"

"Then why would one of them proposition you? Or both of them if you want to get kinky."

"Stop being so ridiculously logical. You're the one who likes the kinky stuff. I'm trying to work up a snit here."

"OK, I'll shut up and think about getting kinky, then. I might just hit on something you'll like."

"Richard!"

"Are you trying to wear out my name?"

"Are you trying to wear out my patience?"

"Well, if you want kinky there's no time like the present."

"There's no time, period! The yard needs looking after and I have laundry to do."

"Spoilsport!"

"Go do something useful. I'll be in the basement."

Footsteps receded and a door opened and closed. I looked at Stephanie, my fellow eavesdropper.

"That was an interesting conversation."

"Indeed. In an odd sort of way, being considered a lesbian is quite a compliment."

"Is it that obvious we're a couple?"

"Were you or were you not holding my hand as we walked up to the house?"

"Oh! Kind of a giveaway, isn't it?

"Covers one secret with another, I suppose. Are we going to go for a drive or wait to see if we can overhear them when he gets her into bed?"

"Now who's being kinky?"

"Let's not go there, we might not like the answers."

"But then again — we might!"

---

The gaffer's district may have been interesting during the summer, but with the temperature rapidly dropping to freezing we just cruised at random in the car. We found a Salvation Army and proceeded to empty our purses and fill our trunk. I suppose it was cheaper than going to Florida, but I'm not sure.

Having looked at Corning, I made Stephanie go to Painted Post. I had no reason to go there except I liked the name. There was, indeed, a painted post there at one time. White settlers found it and the natives never explained why it was there or what it was for — possibly because they were busy trying to avoid getting slaughtered. It had thirteen figures painted in red and disappeared into legend long ago, but the unique name remains.

We had dinner at a nice little place called Pierri's. I grossed Stephanie out by ordering the liver, bacon and onions while she had some nice, healthy broiled fish. I had to promise never to profane our kitchen with something as disgusting as liver and it wasn't until much later that I realized the assumption inherent in 'our kitchen'.

Another milestone happened that night. It wasn't until I was halfway through the job that I realized I had entered the ladies room without even thinking about it. I haven't thought so much about satisfying bodily functions since I was toilet trained. Life sure goes in strange paths.

---

The next morning we were a little nervous about breakfast after the conversation we had overheard. I hoped there wouldn't be any unpleasantness. Much to our relief it was a wonderful meal. I had to wonder, though. Richard and Martha were glowing in a way that made me think they must have been doing exactly what Stephanie and I had been doing not long before. Could the thought of two lesbians cavorting in the next room have added a little spice to their lovemaking?

Maybe there was no glow coming from them, but only the afterglow of our lovemaking. It had been a while for me and years for Stephanie. The sex was more satisfying than any I could remember and I was almost ready to admit that love was the ingredient that had been missing before.

Love? Forty odd years and several relationships, but I don't think I had ever been truly in love. Was I this time? It certainly was different than any previous relationship. Barely an hour after taking the male role in one of humanity's most ancient pursuits I had enthusiastically strapped a bra around my chest, filled it with false breasts and assumed the role of a woman. And I loved it! Was I crazy or only on the road to insanity?

"If you're just going to hold that piece of toast in the air I can think of a better use for it!" Stephanie broke my reverie.

"Sorry, just lost in thought'"

"Well, at least you're still thinking. I stopped that when class ended on Friday and don't intend to resume until next Monday."

"Then I guess I'll have to think up something for us to do today. Want to go to the Corning Glass Museum?"

"What a marvelous idea! I never would have thought of it."

"I'll split the toast with you and then we can go."

---

The Museum was so close that our car's heater had only grudgingly begun to emit a tepid trickle of lukewarm air before we were parked. Some spring break! We've been gypped! Even though it's only a couple of blocks between the parking lot and the Museum itself, we gladly waited in the heated shelter to take the heated bus. Heat is a wonderful thing when Spring has an identity crisis and thinks it's Winter!

"Wow, this place has changed." Stephanie gasped as we entered.

"Kind of like some other things I can think of."

'Oh no! They didn't do that! Stephanie pointed at a 20 foot, round, crosshatched glass something in a massive metal frame."

"What did they do?"

"They changed the Palomar telescope display."

"OK, I'll bite. What's wrong with it. Looks impressive enough to me."

"But you didn't see it before! When I was a kid that lens was at the entrance to the museum. It was all alone in a dark room and lit from behind so it glowed. It was the most beautiful, ethereal thing I had ever seen."

"How can something that big be ethereal?"

"The same way you can be a woman, it just IS. When they made it, it was the largest piece of glass ever made. It cracked and they had to do it all over again, but they kept the first try for the museum. I loved to see it floating there in the dark."

"From the wistfulness in your voice I wish I could have seen it."

"Some changes aren't for the better."

"And some are. Falling in love with you and finding Kate have been changes I never dreamed of, but wouldn't go back for anything."

"Falling in love? With me?"

"Yeah, it kinda just popped out. I realized I loved you this morning at breakfast."

"Oh."

"I know you may not be ready to trust anyone that far again, but I want you to know I love you, Stephanie Petrillo."

How many people have made a pledge of undying love in the middle of the crowded entranceway to a museum? My timing sucked, but what can you do when love takes over your brain?

"I think I love you, too, Kate. it's scary and exciting and wonderful. I just didn't know how to say it."

"'I love you' works for me."

"It isn't that easy for me to say."

"So then think it or dream it or whatever works. We have all the time in the world to get to know each other."

"Don't make me cry. Why did you have to pick this place to tell me, you… you…."

"Ah, an' me Irish heart was just burstin' with joy and couldna' be contained, me lass!"

"No! That Irish crap is bad enough when Steve does it! I never want to hear Kate do it or I'll feed her to a leprechaun."

"Och, perhaps if I were to try something with a right good Scottish burr instead of an Irish lilt?"

"You wouldn't need a gaff any more."

"Then shall we stroll arm-in-arm amongst the exhibits and think of love at a later time?"

"I will if you will."

"You have correctly identified the problem. Any ideas about the solution?"

"It will come to us, bye and bye."

"Right. Just for that, you buy the tickets

---

The special exhibits were of Czechoslovakian glass, even from that one small country there was a wide range of creativity. Much of it was modern and abstract, interesting but not something I could really appreciate. Stephanie surprised me by how many of the things I looked at casually intensely fascinated her. There are as many facets to a personality as there are to a piece of cut glass.

Once through the special exhibit area, the first thing you see in the permanent exhibits are some glass bottles. Nothing remarkable until you realize they are over four thousand years old! How is it that I can't keep a drinking glass intact for six months and someone kept those bottles whole and unbroken for forty centuries or more? I guess they don't make glass like they used to!

The lasting impression I came away with was of the stunning diversity in what you can do with glass. There was a stunning cameo plate with an intricately carved scene of Moorish women bathing that took the artist years to complete. The plate was cast with layers of blue and white glass, then slowly carved with a delicacy that required almost religious dedication.

Then there was the chandelier. The word pales in comparison to the object, a huge, stunning collection of glass taller than I am which must have weighed tons. As we stood staring one of the other patrons remarked casually "You know how they hung those things in their castles?"

"Probably made the servants climb up a ladder carrying one piece at a time and assemble it." Stephanie replied.

"Well, I actually meant how did they made sure the castle ceiling wouldn't collapse under the weight."

"I haven't a clue."

"Elephants."

"Elephants?"

"Yes, they built a ramp to the top of the castle for the elephant climb up and do a little dance on the roof. If the castle didn't collapse then you could hang the chandelier without having it come crashing down on the king while he was eating his dinner."

"Now that's creative problem solving! What did they do with the dead elephant in the rubble if the castle wasn't strong enough?

"Probably made the servants carve it up into smaller pieces and carry it out. I suppose the King threw one hell of a big outdoor bar-b-que if that happened."

"Waste not - want not. You would need a pretty big vat of bar-b-que sauce to slather on the ribs, though."

"But you wouldn't need more than one rib for a meal."

"I can see the invitations now! 'Bet you can't eat just one'."

"I don't think that even a great slogan could sell elephant chips."

Who says museums have to be stuffy? We were chuckling about elephant chips for the rest of the day.

We saw glass tables, stained glass windows, the glass breaking show, glass plates and utensils of every description, glass artwork to make your soul sing! One of my favorites was a beautiful chess set with the pieces depicting Catholic and Jewish clerics in wildly fanciful poses. There were all kinds of interesting and beautiful things to see.

I particularly loved the glass blowing show. Before your eyes a master craftsman creates a vase or bowl or plate, beauty were there was none moments before. Then, when he's done, he throws it in a bin and it shatters to pieces! Unless you carefully cool the glass over a day or so it will simply explode from the stress of cooling. They don't have enough room in the annealing ovens for all the stuff they make for the shows, so it gets chucked back into the furnace and used over.

We spent the entire day there, cleverly funneled through the gift shop to exit the museum. We drooled over the Steuben Glass, incredible handcrafted pieces of art in crystal clear glass. About all we could do is drool - the prices were equally stunning, $5,000 pieces were not the exception! The rest of the gift shop was much more affordable; we became members of the museum to get the 25% discount on everything in the store for joining.

When the museum closed and they politely threw us out, we took the recommendation of one of the museum staff and ate at the Gaffer Grille. Nice steaks and a friendly atmosphere to finish the day. Later that evening, snuggled up on bed in our matching nightgowns, Stephanie asked me a question.

"Kate?"

"Yes?"

"A long time ago you said that any two people could enjoy sex together if they wanted to."

"You couldn't have enough energy for sex after the day we spent!" I guess I really was exhausted.

"That's not what I meant! Then you said that being in love makes sex something special. Last night was special. So was this morning and spending the day with you."

"Even after picking about the worst possible place to tell you that I love you?"

"Well, candlelight and soft guitars might have been a better choice. But you said it. I never hoped to hear anyone tell me they loved me after how badly I screwed up my marriage.

"Let's get one thing straight! YOU did not screw up the marriage. You may have had a part in the problem, but your husband was a piece of work and I don't blame you for pulling into your shell. Leaving yourself open to another person isn't easy. You opened a whole new world for me when you taught me how to be Kate. I couldn't have done it unless you were willing to open yourself to me."

"Was it so very hard? Kate seems so very real to me. I'm in love with her, too."

"My, a lovers' triangle with only two people. Good thing I'm not the jealous type."

"Stop that! I'm trying to be serious."

"I know you are. I guess I'm a bit nervous about how this will all work out."

"Well, so am I. I was sure I would never fall in love again, but you changed my mind."

"When I hit forty, I pretty much figured I was going to be a bachelor for the rest of my life, too."

"This is starting to sound like a 19th century melodrama, except they would have been scandalized to have two women saying the lines."

"If you expect me to burst into song about my undying love, you'll be disappointed. They threw me out of the choir in Sunday School."

"Maybe they knew you'd like wearing the robe a little too much. Just remember, in the second act things go to hell in a melodrama."

"It's a good thing those old melodramas always had a happy ending."

"True, but first we have to get through the part where my mother finds out you've moved in with me."

"Is that an invitation?"

"No."

"Then what..."

"It was an order. A done deal. A command performance. A requirement. Non-negotiable. I'll be damned if I'll sleep alone thinking about you in another bed after last night."

In the rosy glow of the melodramatic pledges of undying love, I completely missed the part about telling her mother.

"Not to change the subject, but do you like camping?

"Where did that come from?"

"An overly active mind jumping ahead to the summer. I try to spend my summer vacation camping and seeing the country. If we're going to be living together we need to think about how we'll spend the summer."

"I haven't been camping in years, but when I was a kid the family went whenever we could find someone to watch the cows for a weekend. We had an old popup tent trailer that barely fit all of us inside. Lucy and I would sleep in our own tent if it wasn't raining and stay up all night giggling at each other."

"Sounds decadent to me. I just throw a tent and sleeping bag in the truck and head for the woods."

"Kate, a lady does not sleep on the ground in the woods."

"She doesn't?"

"This lady does not. Up until recently I would have said this lady prefers a Bed & Breakfast, but I am not keen on spending the summer in places where the owners are speculating about what the two of us are doing in bed."

"Maybe we should do it in the living room so no one has to speculate?"

"Maybe you should consider doing it by yourself."

"Been there, done that. Nobody gave me a T-shirt, though."

"If you weren't so damn good in bed I might have to reconsider…"

"We could rent a trailer. Then we could do it in our own bed wherever we are."

"Only if you make breakfast."

"In bed or in the kitchen?"

"Gives a whole new spin to cream of wheat, doesn't it?"

"Well, buttering it might come in handy later, but where would you put the milk?"

"On your head!"

"Which one?"

"This conversation is over! You're impossible!"

"Merely improbable, but thanks for the compliment."

---

After admitting we were in love, the idea of continuing our mini-vacation just seemed too much work. We packed up and headed back home. The next morning I awoke with that slightly confused sensation you get from being in an unfamiliar bed. The light came from the wrong angle, the sounds weren't quite right and most of all there was someone in the bed with me. Once I had satisfied the primitive part of my brain that all was well, I snuggled up to the body next to me and drifted into a pleasant half slumber, savoring the slow start of a quiet day.

It was late when we finally got out of bed, but then we weren't planning to go anywhere. I missed the fun of getting dressed with Stephanie. We had been too tired to bring in the bags last night and since rest of my clothes were all over in the cottage I had to make my way across in a nightgown in order to get dressed. As much for practice as anything else, I did my makeup even though we weren't planning to leave the house.

The order of the day was casual and, since the weather had perversely warmed up as soon as we declared our vacation over, I chose an oversize white T-shirt with flowers and vines embroidered along the neckline, white cotton skirt and sandals. They showed off my toes, which I had painted to match my manicured fingernails. (Twice — the first try didn't come out so good.) When I got back to the main house, Kate was dressed much the same, except that her T-shirt was red and she filled it out far more than I did.

Last night it had seemed simple enough to say we would move in together, but today we had to turn that rosy promise into reality. There were details, lots of them. Where would we put my dresser? Move her computer from the bedroom into one of the spare rooms along with mine and make an office. Was my bed or her bed more comfortable, or should we should get a king size set? Then there was closet space. I was just beginning to realize that Kate's wardrobe would continue to grow because it was so much fun to buy that pretty new blouse or skirt. That led to the diversion of going through all Stephanie's things and deciding what she didn't need any more. Which led to a fashion show to solicit my opinion of this top or that pair of slacks. Stephanie had just wiggled out of a dress we had decided should join the growing pile of contributions to the Volunteers of America when the doorbell rang.

"Get that, will you, Kate?" she asked. "I'm hardly decent."

"Works for me, love, but I'll go see who's there."

I threaded my way past the sorted piles of clothes and went to the door. I was so comfortable in my role as Kate, I didn't even give what I was doing a second thought. That lasted until I saw Hilda at the door. That's when I remembered the 'going to have to tell Mother' part of 'moving in together. A stranger would have been one thing, I had been among strangers the last two days and was confident I could fool most strangers, but Hilda knew Steve.

What was I going to do? Why hadn't we planned this part of things before we sorted clothes or other minor details? Nothing to do but brazen it out; so I opened the door.

"Good morning. You must be Stephanie's Mom." Safe enough greeting, one look at the two of them and there wasn't any doubt. "Come in. I'm Kate, by the way. I've been helping Steph do some spring cleaning."

"I must have the wrong house. My daughter is incapable of Spring Cleaning. I'm Hilda." She held out her hand and I took it, careful not to press as hard as Steve would have done.

"We're in the bedroom sorting clothes," I replied, then raised my voice. "Hey Steph! Your mother's here!" Damn! It's hard to keep the voice when you're shouting!

A few seconds later, she came out of the bedroom in T-shirt and panties. Nobody here but us girls!

"Hi Mom. Have you met my girlfriend Kate?" Was there a quaver in her voice, a strain visible on her face? You bet!

"We've been introduced. Are you really doing spring cleaning?"

"Well, I'm clearing out the closet. There's stuff in there that's ten years old and I'm never going to wear again. Want to have a garage sale?"

"Not on your life! You figure out what to do with it, it's your problem!"

"Mom hates garage sales, Kate. It's one of her little eccentricities. What's up, Mom?"
0
"Not much. Since you haven't answered your house phone or your cell in days I came out to see of you were still living here or if you had gone off to California again."

"Please! Kate and I were in Corning, being tourists."

"And you didn't tell your mother where you were going?"

"Not since I went to California. We were just having a great time being giggling girlfriends and seeing the sights. We'll invite you next time if you are interested."

"I just might take you up on that."

"Mom! You wouldn't believe what they did with the telescope glass!"

With that they were off and running, Hilda and Stephanie reminiscing about her childhood, the family and all the home canning they had done, a pleasant conversation that I eavesdropped on while carefully maintaining a proper distance from my newfound love. The conversation came to a stopping point and Hilda asked, "Well, children, are you going to let me in on what's going on, or do I have to pretend I haven't noticed Stephen has changed sex since the last time I saw him?"

"I suppose it would be simpler if you did, Mom, but I don't think you could do it."

"Not that you aren't convincing, uh, Kate, but I could hardly miss the resemblance to Stephen. There aren't that many redheads around here, you know."

"It's a long story, Hilda," I stammered; at the same time Stephanie said, "It's not as bad as it looks, Mom!"

"One at a time, children," she insisted. "I take it you finally gave him the bra and panties he was waiting for the last time I saw him."

"That was only a joke. Well, it was at the time...."

"Perhaps you had better start at the beginning, it might make more sense."

We tried to tell the story in a way that made sense, but it wasn't so easy, since we didn't really understand just what was going on ourselves. I could tell from her expression Hilda was going to be a hard sell. The woman had grown up on a farm in what was then a small town. The area was still overwhelmingly Republican outside the precincts of the college. When Hilda was young, the modern, huge State School had just been created from a small Normal School for teachers; the rest of the area had to have been unrelentingly agricultural and conservative.

Hilda was clearly a resilient woman, coping with her daughter's divorce, the abduction of her grandchildren and her husband's early death. Her conservative foundations had been shaken by the Nixon scandals and Stephanie had told me that when the Iraq War started she was so disgusted she quit the Republican Party and registered as independent. She couldn't quite bring herself to register Democratic.

So, like most of the rest of us, she was caught between black and white, floundering uncomfortably in the vast sea of grayness that was modern politics and morality. But no matter how much you might adapt to the changing culture you live in, you go back to your childhood training when confronted with a moral dilemma. Crossdressing was not something that fit well with Hilda's upbringing.

I tried to be honest about why I liked being Kate without putting too much emphasis on just how good the clothes felt for me and Stephanie tried to explain the closeness we had developed as girlfriends. We tried our best, but Hilda clearly wasn't happy by the time we got to the end of the story. The only good part was that she didn't even raise an eyebrow when we got to the part about living together.

"I just don't know what to think, Stephanie. I thought you had finally gotten your life under control after all these years, but you've managed to be a trial to your poor old mother once again. I love you, Stephanie, but I don't really approve of this whole thing."

Stephanie was about to answer, but Hilda shushed her and continued.

"But what I have learned, painfully, is that you are a grown woman and will do what you want to do, no matter what your crotchety old mother has to say. If the circumstances were different, I think I might even approve of Kate, but right now I just don't know. So I'm going to go home now and have a nice cup of tea and have a good cry. When that's done I'll feel better and we can talk tomorrow."

She arose and kissed Stephanie. To my utter amazement, she kissed me and took her leave.

I don't think any of us slept too well that night.

---

The next morning I hesitated before putting on my bra in the morning, an action that had become almost second nature. Was it worth it? Should I let Steve come back until we came to some resolution about Hilda? I almost went over to the cottage for Steve's clothes.

"What's the matter, Kate?"

"Your mother." I explained my hesitation. "I don't want to hurt her or change how she feels about you."

"That's what I like about you, you always think of what other people are feeling. I wish Mother had taken it better, but it's not like this is the first time I've upset her. We'll work it out."

"I hope so. I hate to be on the wrong side of your family. I never liked mother-in-law stories very much."

We tried to finish the clothes sorting that morning, but our hearts weren't in it. The confrontation with Hilda was still too fresh, too painful. Around noon we played the game of seeing who got hungry enough to make lunch first, since neither one of us felt like doing it. Stephanie won; even feeling lousy, I got hungry first.

We finally sorted the clothes and bagged up the donations, then went over to the cottage and repeated the procedure. I had laughed at Steph when she wanted to keep things she no longer wore because of sentimental attachments, but I was almost as bad. By the time we were done, I was glad I had a pickup truck; we'd need it to take all the stuff to the VOA.

We collected all of Kate's clothes and carried them across in laundry baskets. I didn't come right out and ask Steph what she was thinking, but I had this feeling of invading her space as I hung my clothes in her closet. When we carried one of my dressers over (that must have been a sight!) and put it in her bedroom, it hit me just how much my life had changed in such a short time.

Commitment! Jokes about guys and commitment abound, some of them are even funny. I had never found anyone who sparked the need for a long-term commitment, but I wasn't a fanatical bachelor either. The irony did not escape me that I had to become Kate before I found the real desire to commit myself to another person.

When we had finally loaded all the drawers, the bed looked awfully inviting. We lay together on the bed, feeling too enervated to do anything else. Eventually our lassitude diminished and our hands started roaming over each other. I had managed to work my way under her T-shirt to unhook her bra and was playing with her nipple through the silky fabric when the doorbell rang.

"Damn!" was all she could say. I echoed her sentiments heartily.

Was it Hilda? I could see by Stephanie's look we had the same thought.

"You know? I'm starting to feel like the maid around here. Every time that doorbell rings. I'm the only one dressed to answer it," I grumped. "If it's your mother, then so be it."

"Thanks, Kate." She was scrambling to buckle herself together.

The inside door was open and through the screen I saw two people at the door. With one glance I realized that the woman must be Stephanie's sister Lucy, the resemblance was unmistakable. Was the man her husband or Steph's brother? I suppose I would find out in a minute. I opened the door.

"Come in, I'm Stephanie's friend Kate; she'll be here in a minute."

I now know what a bug on a glass slide feels like under the microscope. They studied me as intently as any lab tech looking for what was making someone sick. OK, it really wasn't as obvious as that, but I was feeling a little vulnerable.

"I'm Lucy, Stephanie's sister and this is my husband, Bernie. May we come in?"

"Certainly, let me get Stephanie. Sit down and make yourselves comfortable."

"After talking to Mom, that would be quite a trick. Tell Steph I left Mrs. Fishkettle home."

I wasn't about to ask. There had to be a story behind that name and I knew that it was one that I would hear whether I wanted to or not. That's just human nature. I opened the bedroom door and saw Stephanie sitting stiffly on the bed.

"Relax, it's not you mother. It's not Mrs. Fishkettle either, whoever she is."

"Lucy!" She jumped up, actually looking happy for the first time today. "Come and meet her, Kate. You'll love her."

Bernie and I exchanged smiles as Stephanie and Lucy hugged each other enthusiastically, ignoring us completely. Then it was Bernie's turn to be overwhelmed. To my surprise, Lucy came over and gave me a warm hug while her husband was being soundly squeezed.

"So you're the infamous Kate who has mother so befuddled. You look good, girl. My sister always had better taste in women than she did in men." She let go of my shoulders.

"Hey — my turn." Bernie gave me a completely unselfconscious hug, leaving me stunned. Sure, I've hugged men before as Stephen, but this was the kind of hug a man gives a woman, not the perfunctory man hugs that are socially acceptable.

"I like your girlfriend, Steph," Bernie announced. "Now the family will have something better to talk about than the Jew that married into the clan. Good going!" No doubt of where Bernie grew up, the Brooklyn accent was unmistakable.

"Bernie!" That was both Steph and Lucy, sounding like an echo chamber.

"It's true and you know it, Lucy. I was the scandal of the family when you married me. Some of your uncles were worried I'd try and perform a bris on them then and there. Come to think of it, they might have similar plans for Kate here and they wouldn't bother to find a Rabbi."

"Bernie!" The echo chamber was back and I was laughing my ass off. I was sure that Bernie and I were going to get along.

"They'd have a fight on their hands if they did, Bernie. I like things just the way they are, thank you."

"Do you now? Then let's sit down and tell me all about it. Momma Hilda was a mite distraught when she called."

"Not until after supper, Bernie," Stephanie said. "Kate and I were just thinking about what to make. Will you join us?"

"Have I ever refused a meal?"

"That was a polite, rhetorical question, Bernie." She smiled sweetly. "If you need to know what a rhetorical question is, Kate is an English Professor and can explain it to you in words small enough for you to understand."

"And I love you, too, Stephanie. We'll just let you two girls cook while I talk to Kate here."

He took me by the arm and led me to the dining room, leaving the sisters behind.

"Steph doesn't have any arsenic or rat poison around, does she? The girl's impetuous sometimes." He was grinning from ear to ear. "Too bad some of the other relatives aren't more like Steph, she can take a joke. For that matter she can take my Uncle Shimon's awful jokes, so I can get out of the line of fire. "

"I suppose every family has relatives who you'd rather disown; my Uncle Shimon comes to mind with all his bad jokes and long stories. Then there's Uncle Hymie, I think he's single-handedly behind all the cheap Jew jokes you've ever heard. Can't even say he has a heart of gold, he's too cheap. It's brass plated, just like other parts of his anatomy."

"Give me a break, Bernie! Don't tell me I'm going to have to learn TWO family trees? I'm just Steph's girlfriend, we aren't getting married or anything."

"I guess the whole question of 'girlfriend' cuts to the heart of the matter, doesn't it?"

"I guess I'm a lot like your Uncle Hymie. Mine have to be brass plated to pull off being Kate."

"Not removed entirely? Sorry to be so blunt, but sometimes it's not so good to dance around the questions."

"Better you should be asking than taking up surgery for yourself." Damn, I was falling into the accent! "The answer is that I'm a garden variety crossdresser; I'm not interested in any additions or subtractions between my legs or anywhere else. I still enjoy being Steve, but Kate has become a real part of me. I don't think I can explain it to myself, let alone to you, but that's the way it is."

"Well, you do a damn good job of it. If Mamma Hilda hadn't let the cat out of the bag, I don't know if I would have figured it out for myself, at least not without being around you for a while."

"It's taken a lot of work to get here, even with Stephanie helping me."

"Az di bobe volt gehat beytsim volt zi geven mayn zeyde! That means 'If my grandmother had testicles, she would be my grandfather'."

"Maybe there's a Jew or two in my family tree that I don't know about. Good thing we aren't in the market for kids together."

"So she likes you this way?"

"She likes me this way. Really. Maybe this better wait until after supper, so we can talk to both of you and not do everything twice?"

"So how 'bout them Mets?" he changed the subject. A fat lot of good it did him.

"I hate to break it to you, but I couldn't care less."

"Oy gevalt! And I was beginning to like you!"

"We could talk gardening."

"Lucy!" he roared. "Is dinner ready yet? This lunatic wants to tell me about her garden! Save me!"

"If you're in such a hurry, get your ass in the kitchen and help!" came the reply.

"I won't hold it against you, if you're the only man in the kitchen. Can you cook?"

"Lucy and I are caterers, Kate. Didn't Stephanie tell you?

"I didn't know. I did a lot of bartending when I was in college, I know caterers have to work their asses off to make good. That must mean today's your weekend."

"Right the first time. Nobody has a big do in the middle of the week if they can help it. Let's go see what we can do."

---

With the four of us working, dinner appeared remarkably fast. The old farmhouse kitchen was big enough for all of us, even if we did occasionally bump into each other. As the least sophisticated of the crew, I was assigned the salad chopping while Bernie and Steph did something with quickly thawed chicken breasts and Lucy made magic with pasta. It seems that Steph was an occasional helper in the catering biz whenever they had something unusually big going on.

Lucy and Steph kept up a running banter, clearly honed by years of sisterly rivalry, with Bernie tossing in an occasional zinger. I held my own in the verbal jousting with Bernie feeding me some irresistible straight lines. Was this what it was like to have brothers and sisters? Being an only child made me wonder.

With dinner a pleasant memory, Steph and I explained as much as we could about Kate once again. It was easier this time; the audience was a lot more receptive and we had it a little more coherently in our own minds after trying to tell Hilda yesterday. Steph surprised me by including the part about jumping my bones; I guess there are things sisters can share that you don't tell your mother. Bernie looked embarrassed and I expect I wasn't far behind him.

"I guess if it works for you then it's fine with me." Lucy delivered her verdict. "Hey — you got a bra for Bernie? Maybe it would make him easier to live with."

"Yeah, Bernie!" Stephanie offered, "We might even civilize you enough for polite society after a few years. Bernice has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? You'd look cute in a white lace apron serving at the buffet."

"Ladies, ladies! Please!" I butted in. "I've just met your mother. Don't start anything that makes me attend her funeral before I get to know her."

"Oh, Kate, you take all the fun out of life," laughed Lucy. "I guess I'll have to live with him as he is."

Bernie looked relieved.

"Well, he could still wear panties and no one would know but you, Lucy. Might take some of the rough edges off," I suggested.

"Thanks, 'girlfriend.' I'll do you a favor some day, too."

"So, what do we do with Mother, sis? Looks like Kate is here to stay."

"Well, she moved in with me this afternoon. She's here to stay!"

"That serious, eh?" Lucy's left eyebrow rose.

"No, she's a hell of a lot of fun, or we wouldn't be living together. Not much we can do but wait Mother out, I guess."

"But what about the Pie Festival?"

"She'll have to tough it out. Kate lives here and I'm not going to ask her to leave," declared Stephanie.

"Now Steph if..." I tried to say.

"This is family business, Kate. Unless you want to marry me, butt out!"

"Well, if that's what it takes..." That stopped her in mid rant.

"What?"

"Will you marry me, Stephanie? I mean as Steve, but I'll throw Kate in for free."

"I... I...." She seemed to be stuck.

"As Uncle Hymie would say," Bernie threw in, 'you shouldn't turn down a bargain when it's a two-for-one offer'."

"Shut up, Bernie. This is Stephanie's choice." Lucy gave him a slap on the wrist.

"When?"

"Whenever you want. This fall, when Kate goes into hibernation. We don't want to confuse things too much."

"I... I wasn't expecting...."

"Neither was I, but I did it anyway. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, you crazy, insane person."

"That will teach Mother to call me to try to talk some sense into you, sis. She isn't going to believe this!"

"You are NOT going to tell her! We have to get through the rest of the semester with Steve going to work as usual and then Kate and I have our summer planned together. I am not going to have her pestering me to set a date so she can start planning the wedding; I had enough of that the first time around. You breathe a word and I'll sic Mrs. Fishkettle on you. Believe it!"

"Mrs. Fishkettle?" I had to ask.

"Our Sunday School teacher from the seventh grade. She was an old witch who was convinced all of us were just slavering to commit 'sins of the flesh' and spent a LOT of time preaching against it. She was probably right, but we both hated that class. We elected her boogie-woman for anything we didn't like, the old harridan."

Lucy giggled. "HE!", she pointed at Bernie, "doesn't believe me. She was mean enough to come back from the grave. I promise on old Mrs. Fishkettle's Bible to keep my mouth shut. That includes you, too, Bernie!"

"Yes'm. Red-hot pokers under my fingernails connected to a million volts couldn't get it out of me. Rabid wild horses doped with steroids couldn't drag it out of me. Vicious... Ouch!"

"Shut up, Bernie, or you WILL be wearing that bra. Look what a nice person Kate has become since she started wearing one."

"OK, OK. Mazel Tov to the both of you!" I think that's what he said; I was busy getting kissed at the time.

Something magical happened that night; I became part of a family. The only child, the lifelong loner finally knew what it was like to have sisters and brothers. Bernie and Lucy took me into the family and made me feel at home. I heard stories of the pranks Stephanie and Lucy pulled, tales of Bernie's multitudinous uncles and learned what life was like growing up on the farm. Without really realizing it they drew stories out of me and I was happy to tell them about my life.

"Do you mind if I ask if you were ever in theatre?" asked Lucy. "I keep forgetting Kate is someone you and Steph have created. How do you make Kate so real?"

"I think that's because Kate is a part of me that is real; I just didn't know about her. I was on the tech crew in high school, doing lighting and sets and such; but I wasn't on stage. Well, I was once. The next act in the Senior Show was late and we were stalling for time. So my buddy Gerry grabbed a gray wig from the prop room, made a quick sign and hung it over my neck. It said 'Ye Olde Lamp Lighter' in Old English lettering. We knew that the center-right set of footlights made an amazing groan when you cranked them into position, so I went out there and cranked it back and forth until she showed up.

"I had about worked the joke to death when I heard the curtains open behind me, so I got up and looked. There was Sue Travis in a Playboy Bunny costume and I about swallowed my teeth. I hammed it up, whistled and grabbed my heart and flopped around like a fish, then crawled off the stage. That was my entire theatrical career.

"The Assistant Principal about had a hemorrhage over her costume. It was shortly after one of his periodic campaigns for strict enforcement of the dress code had started and he was livid. She had the body for it and she left the costume on for the party in the cafeteria after the show."

"That seems almost quaint these days," Stephanie said. "You should see what the kids wear to school now. Your Assistant Principal wouldn't believe it. I even get it in second grade. A couple of years ago, I had an incident that still makes me laugh."

"Shortly after the semester started, I had a new little girl in my class. She was awful cute, but every time I knelt down on the floor with them she would come over and wiggle her butt in front of me. I didn't know what to do about it. I talked to the school psychologist and he observed the class for a while, but he couldn't figure out why either. Finally we called the girl's mother in for a conference and told her what was happening. We were so worried the kid had some major psychological problem.

"The kid's mom just started laughing. Her daughter was trying to show me the label on her designer jeans — in second grade!"

That's how the evening went in the bosom of my new family. I can't tell you how good it felt!

---

The next few days were relatively quiet. We were getting used to being a couple. (A couple of whats was Bernie's question.) We shopped — for groceries this time - but instead of turning around for home I went the other way. I just smiled and looked mysteriously at her when she asked where we were going. I pulled into the parking lot of Charisma Jewelers, one of the few local business that hadn't been driven out by the chains. Since we were engaged, we needed a ring, but I had wanted to surprise Stephanie.

"Kate, is this what I think it is?"

Pretty hard to fool the woman.

"Only if you are thinking that the salesman will be mightily amused by a lesbian buying her lover an engagement ring. I'll give you odds he tries to sell both of us."

"You're insane."

"I prefer 'romantic'. Gonna take the bet?"

"Not a chance. If I get a ring, then you get one, too."

"Like I said, romantic. Shall we go in?"

"In a minute. Kate, please don't take offence, but I don't want a diamond."

"You're going to be the one to wear it, I want whatever makes you happy. Can I ask why?"

"Three reasons. First, I love emeralds. Second, Faruq gave me a diamond big enough to put your eye out when he proposed and look how that turned out."

She was silent for a while. I suppose the second spouse can't help but be compared to the first. To my satisfaction, it didn't bother me in the slightest.

"You're going to think this is silly."

"As silly as me being Kate?"

"Worse. Once you put that ring on my hand, I'm not going to take it off. I don't want to have to explain a diamond ring to the entire family at the Pie Festival, but I am going to wear your ring come hell or high water."

"Then we had better not get matching rings. That would be almost as obvious as a diamond. I'm glad you like emeralds, it will work with my carrot top."

"See, you're getting pretty good at matching colors. Let's go in and see what they have, girlfriend."

---

"Good afternoon, ladies. How can I help you?"

Would the fact that it was a saleswoman have invalidated the bet?

"We're looking for engagement rings," I replied, "for both of us."

Might as well be direct and not pussyfoot around.

"That's lovely! I'm sure we can show you something you'll appreciate. Do you have a price range in mind?"

Pretty tactful, but I suppose that comes with the trade. Was there a momentary flash of disappointment when we asked for emeralds? Maybe, maybe not. She was a well informed and helpful salesperson and I found out I liked shopping for jewelry almost as much as I liked shopping for clothes.

I was a little disappointed that we would have to wait for the rings to be sized, but my hands are larger than the feminine norm; nothing fit from the case. We made do with a pair of emerald earrings for each of us. I pushed the schedule a bit and took out my starters. What better for my first earrings than a pair that was given with love?

They were gorgeous!

---

"Hello."

"Hello, Kate, It's Hilda." Well, she called me Kate, that's a start.

"It's good to hear your voice, Hilda. How are you doing?"

"I'm coping. Lord knows I've had plenty of practice. Is Stephanie there?"

"She's outside watering the marigolds. I can give her a call if you'll hold on a minute."

"Don't bother, you'll do. We need to talk. Am I welcome to come over?"

"Hilda, I don't have to talk to Steph to tell you that you are always welcome. This is your home, too."

"Even after what I said the other night?"

"Please, you were simply being honest. Neither Stephanie nor I was trying to hide anything from you. When you came over, we simply couldn't find a way to break it to you. I know it had to be a shock to realize who I was; I never intended to do that to you. I'm truly sorry for the pain I've caused you. I hope you can believe that."

"I know that, Kate. Forgive an old woman for being so crotchety. It was a shock and I just didn't know what to do."

"I know. Hilda, if it would make you feel better, I'll change back to Stephen before you get here. I don't want to offend you."

"That's kind of you, Kate, but if that's the way you and Stephanie have chosen to live, I suppose I had better get used to it."

"That's very kind as well, Hilda. The offer is open at any time, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, my. I can see why Lucy kept talking like you were her best friend. You seem to have won the hearts of my daughter and her husband."

"I'm flattered, your children are some of the nicest people I've ever met. I'm looking forward to meeting Tom someday."

"Well, it certainly will make for an interesting evening."

"Hilda, I hope that my presence won't cause anything untoward to happen. I intend to be very low key and well in the background."

"And let the gossips make what they will of you living with my daughter?"

"Hilda, you should have been a detective, that was a truly smooth bit of questioning. The official story is I am renting the cottage. It has the advantage of being true, but I won't lie to you. Stephanie and I are in love and living together. Am I still in your good graces?"

"Can I invoke the fifth?"

"Depends on what you do first. Please, come over for dinner and we can talk."

"That's the reason I called. What should I bring?"

"Yourself, everything's under control at our end."

"Hrumpf. I sincerely hope it is, Kate. I'll be over in an hour or so."

"I'm looking forward to it."

I don't think I was lying to be polite — at least not much.

---

"Hey Steph!" I called. "Guess who's coming to dinner?"

"Sidney Poitier? No, Spencer Tracey would be more appropriate."

"That's the other Kate."

"There's only one Kate for me."

"Flatterer. Your mother is coming over for dinner."

"Breathing fire?"

"A puff of smoke may escape at times, but she didn't seem ready to incinerate me."

"'Don't laugh at live dragons,' darling. That's a line from a musical I was in during high school. Mother didn't approve of the play, as you might have guessed. It was full of beatniks and free lovers and other scandalous characters. I got to fling rose petals as I crossed the stage."

"No crossdressers?"

"Not an issue back then. I suppose if the play were revived they'd throw in a crossdresser or two for effect."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of tossing crossdressers. Landing could hurt."

"Better wear your padded panties, then."

"Speaking of such, what should I wear for dinner?"

"What would you do if you were being Steve and someone came over unexpectedly?"

"I suppose I wouldn't do much of anything."

"Then there's your answer. Kate should behave like a normal woman should and just be herself."

"That's easy for you to say, I don't want to upset your mother."

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?"

"I don't want to upset her further. Sheesh — I thought my students could be picky about language; I'm glad I don't have to have you in my class."

"Then stop giving me those straight lines! You're making it hard to resist."

"So don't resist!" Kissing is a good way to stop an absurd conversation.

---

So all right, I was nervous. I tried to calm my nerves by attacking vegetables in the kitchen, but that just made me worry about what Hilda would think of dinner. I agonized right up to the time the doorbell rang, then tried to convince Steph she should answer it. It didn't work.

"I'm up to my elbows in chicken parts, Kate. You have to face her sometime. Think of how much easier it will be when you tell her we're getting married, once you've had all this practice."

"Where's the back door. I'm not ready for this."

"Should have thought of this before you proposed to me. Don't leave Mother standing at the door, darling."

"Don't worry about me, Kate, I let myself in. Who's proposed to you, Stephanie?"

"I was proposing we get a vicious guard dog to keep intruders out of the house, wasn't I, Kate?"

"I thought we were going to get a bottomless pit installed in the vestibule."

"With a pit bull to guard it. See — it all works out."

"Your humor is the pits, daughter, but don't try to change the subject. I distinctly heard you say something about being proposed to. Are you trying to hide something from your poor old mother?"

"You're not poor and you're not old, Mother."

"And you're not answering, daughter."

"You noticed. See, you're aware of your surroundings and don't have to worry about confusion in your old age."

"Stephanie!" Hilda's tone was pure exasperated mother setting her child straight.

"Oh, all right. Stephen and Kate and I are engaged, but we're not announcing it until the fall when Stephen officially comes back from vacation. That means my prying mother will have to keep her mouth shut, or I'll disown her. We do not intend to play quick change games when someone wants to congratulate us over the summer."

"Well, I never...." Hilda was speechless.

"Set this deep in your memory, Kate. You won't see my mother like this very often. See what you get for pushing, Mom?"

"Hilda, we didn't want it to be like this, really we didn't," I apologized.

"I suppose I should be glad you're really a man, so we wouldn't have to figure out how to do a gay wedding," Hilda sighed. "This is getting awfully complicated."

"Lesbian, mother. Men are gay and women are lesbian. Don't ask me why, but that's what the memos at work tell us so we can be politically sensitive."

"Politics be damned! Why do you have to make getting married so complicated all the time? I remember the first time when...."

"Mother! I was there and you don't have to go into detail. When Stephen and I get married, it will be a simple ceremony and no one is going to know that Kate has anything to do with it."

"Hey!" I responded. "I wanted to wear a wedding dress, too." I know I shouldn't have done it, but the look on Hilda's face was worth it.

"Well, if that's what you want, darling, you can let mother drive you crazy with all the wedding details. I'll just rent a tux and keep out of it! Being a bride is a lot of work, maybe I'll enjoy being the groom a lot more this time around."

"Will Bernie be my Matron of Honor, do you think? You know what he said about wearing a bra the other night." I knew, but Hilda didn't and I wasn't about to disabuse her of her assumptions. I knew we were going to pay for this, but Stephanie and I were having too much fun with Hilda, who was somewhere between scandalized and helpless laughter.

"You'll have to ask, but I'm sure Lucy would be my Best Man."

"Will you two stop this nonsense right now!" demanded Hilda.

"Nonsense?" cried Stephanie. "I never thought the day would come when you wouldn't want to help plan a wedding. I'm shocked."

"I surrender!" she cried, pulling a white hankie from her purse and waving it frantically. "You win, I can't take any more!"

"Remember that the next time you eavesdrop on a conversation, Mother." Steph was still giggling.

"You'll be the death of me yet, child. Let me get used to having you live with a man who wants to be a woman before you hit me with marriage."

"We tried, mother. Kate and I are going to spend the summer traveling, not planning a wedding. We haven't even set a date yet, so we didn't want to cause you any more confusion than we already had."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, but then I never understood brain surgery either. I'll just accept that it is possible and not worry about the details. If this is the way you want to live your life and if Stephanie is content with it, then I will accept that. You seem like a nice person and I'll leave it at that."

"Thank you, Hilda. I don't want to have my mother-in-law upset with me; family is too important. We did a pretty lousy job of breaking the news to you, I know, but things just got out of hand."

"Don't they always? Now, what can I do to help with dinner?"

"Start the grill, the chicken is ready to put on."

---

It startled me when the phone rang. That didn't happen too often; for some perverse reason, everyone who wanted to talk to Stephanie called when we were out; the voice mail always had something in it when we got back. A new corollary to Murphy's Law in the cell phone age?

"Hello, Petrillo residence," I answered.

"My, aren't we formal today. Is that you, Steph?"

"No, this is her friend, Kate. Stephanie is out in the barn at the moment. Can I take a message? Or is it urgent enough to track her down?"

"No, nothing urgent. This is her brother Tom. Just let her know I'm coming out to see you both tonight. She doesn't have to bother dusting; I can take her usual housekeeping."

"I take it there's a family joke in there somewhere. We're expecting Lucy and Bernie for dinner tonight. We'll hold it until you arrive."

"That would be great. It will be nice to meet you, Lucy has told me all about you."

"And you still want to meet me? She obviously didn't tell you everything."

"Every family has its secrets. My sweet, less-than-innocent baby sister has a few of her own that would amaze you."

"Care to let me know a couple? I can always use some juicy gossip!"

"My impression was that you are the juicy gossip. I'm looking forward to meeting you."

"I have many talents, that's why your sister puts up with me. The Petrillo family has certainly been worth meeting and I'm glad to have the chance to complete the set."

"Sounds more like tennis, or maybe badminton. Just remember what the birdie goes through. Our family can be a bit daunting."

"So I've learned. I can't wait to meet your part of it."

"Kate, despite the gossip I think I'm going to enjoy meeting you. I'm afraid my wife will not hold the same opinion."

"Tom, I will do my best to present myself as a proper woman. I can only hope your wife will be willing to accept me for what I am. I try to live up to your best expectations."

"Don't make promises before you know what my expectations are."

"I shall hold myself firmly in check until you arrive."

"Don't hurt yourself. We'll be there about seven tonight."

He hung up and I stared at the phone. This was getting more and more complicated. We had certainly been naive to think living together as girlfriends could be our little secret. Crossdressing paramour or lesbian lover, which was the more interesting? Then the supposedly secret engagement. Yes, this is going to be interesting.

---

"This is going to be interesting!" said Stephanie when I passed on the message. Great minds think alike.

"That's one word for it. Maybe we should just put an announcement in the paper and have done with it."

"I think that's a little overzealous, don't you?"

"Perhaps, but did you expect any of this when you gave me your undies that day?"

"Talk about a joke that got out of hand! How is it I always fall in love with men who are not what they seem?"

"Is that any worse than falling in love with your landlady?"

"Not as long as you keep paying the rent. Love won't pay the bills, you know."

"I might have guessed. Niagara Mohawk won't take an IOU with a bunch of cute little hearts on the bottom?"

"Not even if you offered them your cute little bottom. Cash on the barrelhead, buster."

"'I Married a Mercenary' sounds like a good book title."

"How about 'ManBeth', the adventures of a Scottish transsexual 'not of woman born'?"

"Well, we could try 'Mary Potter and the Chamber of Lingerie'?"

"We could try getting back to the subject of the conversation. We're going to have to tell Tom."

"He said on the phone that 'Lucy had told him all about me'. I assume that means he already knows."

"I'm more worried about telling their kids. Tom will be able to handle it, but Deb is another story. She's not going to be happy."

"So, no necking in front of the nephews, eh?"

"Not even uncles, aunts and cousins, girlfriend."

"Right. No PDA, as it is so succinctly referred to in my high school rule book. We had probably better call Lucy and Bernie and talk to them about what they want their kids to know about us."

"Too late, they already know the straight story. Ben's too young to care, but Karen's probably going to pester you to death. She's a very curious girl."

"This ought to be interesting." I was repeating myself, but I've said that before.

"We keep saying that, don't we?"

"So what about the other kids, or do we just lock Lucy and Ben in a room with your brother and let them do it for us?"

"Coward. Good thing Lucy's kids will be here, that way they can spirit off Tom's kids and we can bare our souls once again."

"Sounds like a plan. If we have to do this much more, we should make a home video and hand it out as people come in the door. It might be easier."

"Let's try to keep this in the family, OK? You have to go back to being Steve on Monday and we don't want to have a video laying around for anyone to find."

"Considering how all this started, we could call it 'The Secret Garden' if we did."

"Appropriate, but it's been done."