Kate, Part 3 Tales of Family and Femininity By Ricky

Chapter 3

So I once again had a case of the nerves to cope with, this meeting the family stuff just seemed to keep going and going and going. After months of practice, the last week had shown me that Kate was more than a whim. Comfortable, that was the word. I truly felt comfortable as Kate. Even bundled in a winter coat so my figure (or lack of one) was hidden, wearing a bra was comfortable. Granted it was uncomfortable for the first few minutes after inserting my forms in the morning, but they soon warmed. I must admit that I fantasized about how nice it would be to have real breasts during those chilly minutes, but I simply loved the feel of a bra around my chest.

With company coming I shaved again. I've shaved more times this week than I have in the last month. I was definitely going to look into electrolysis. Even as Steve I didn't want my beard showing. If I was going to be Kate the fuzz had to go!

When we had bought my new wardrobe, we had gotten several pairs of slacks, but I seldom wore them away from the house. I know it made me a bit unusual, but I had fallen in love with skirts. When there was work to be done around the house or in the yard, I was practical and wore slacks, but if there wasn't I put on a skirt or a dress. I noticed that Steph had started to wear skirts more often as well; I seemed to have awakened her interest in the feminine along with my own. There's a wonderful freedom in having a skirt brushing your bare legs that just doesn't happen in shorts.

Which brings me back to dressing for dinner with the family. I wanted to agonize for what I was going to wear, but Steph wouldn't put up with it.

"Let's go all out and wear those matching outfits you bought the night I seduced you. They'll go nicely with our engagement rings."

"So the plan is to just beat them over the head with it and cart the bodies off before they revive?"

"Too much trouble. We'll leave them on the sofa until they can go upstairs under their own power and be properly scandalized with each other. Shall we serve breakfast in our nightgowns and really rub it in?

"Not in the nightgown you gave me, that's for private consumption only."

"Don't worry, I'll consume what you have to offer before I let you out of bed. Just don't wake up the kids when you come."

"No problem, I'll just make sure I have my mouth full of you when it happens. It should muffle the noise."

"I like the way you think, you have a solution for every problem."

"Not every problem, not by a long shot. I'm sure that the next few days will present me with a few we haven't thought of."

"Now see how kind I am to have removed one of your problems and told you what to wear? Could you help me with some makeup tonight?"

"Lose a problem, gain a problem. Sure I'll help, but I'm still learning."

"You know more than I do, anyway. Deb is one of those women who never leave the house without a perfect makeup job. She never really approved of me too much."

"Maybe I'll provide her with a distraction."

"I'm sure you will. Now get dressed, they'll be here in an hour."

So I went all out, shaving legs and face, padding, waist cincher (I couldn't resist it when I found it on the net, but it gets uncomfortable after a while.), the green leafy dress and full makeup. I was so used to doing my own face by then, it took some concentration to reverse things on Stephanie. She surprised me by having bought fresh makeup especially for the evening sometime when I wasn't looking.

The nervous part started once we were dressed and puttering around with the last minute things before our guests arrived. I jumped when the doorbell rang.

"Who gets it, you or me?" I asked.

"Let's face this together."

She was worried, but it turned out to be a false alarm. It was Lucy and Bernie, this time with their kids. I was introduced as Aunt Kate! That was a real kick.

"You ladies are both stunning!" exclaimed Bernie and proceeded to kiss us both. Karen, the fifteen year old, had a twinkle in her eye and was trying very hard to achieve a sophisticated, worldly demeanor in the face of her dad kissing a guy who was dressed as a girl. She didn't do too badly under the circumstances. I couldn't help noticing that her mother's genetics had passed to her, her breasts jutted prominently in front of her.

"Thank you, Bernie. You're looking pretty nice yourself."

"Karen, take note. That's how a proper lady reacts to a compliment, even when I'm wearing a T-shirt and jeans. I didn't realize it was a formal affair, or I would have put on the jeans without the holes in them."

"Bernie, you're a gentleman no matter what you're wearing," I told him.

"Can we go play in the barn, Pops?" Apparently the exchange of compliments was boring ten-year-old Ben.

"Sure, just be careful, kids." They were gone in a flash. "So, are we going to tell them before supper and ruin their appetites or wait 'till they've eaten and give them indigestion?"

"Bernie!" There was that echo effect again. I wondered how Tom managed to cope with two sisters so perfectly in tune?

"I thought we'd just put 'Tootsie' on the DVD player and I'd start kissing Steph at the right spot and see if they can figure it out for themselves."

"Katherine!"

Oh-oh. Katherine, was it?

"We will tell my brother and his wife in a dignified and refined manor. You can kiss me like that when you take me to bed."

"See you folks!" I took Steph's hand and was pulled up short.

"Behave yourself!"

"Do you hear an echo in here, Bernie? Must be something to do with this old house."

"Reminds me of when we were kids, they did that to me all the time. I had to marry one of them to keep them apart and get a little peace."

"Bernie!" They were a little out of sync this time; laughing does that to your timing.

"Come in and sit down. Have something to drink. Dinner is all taken care of, so all we have to do is wait for everybody to arrive."

So we talked a while and I almost forgot what we were waiting for. Bernie is a very funny guy and knows how to lighten up a mood. I didn't even jump when the doorbell rang.

"Come in, Hilda, you don't have to ring the bell. We've used up all our surprises," I greeted her.

"I should hope so. Tom's right behind me, Kate. I think I'm going to enjoy seeing someone else go through this."

"Mother Hilda, that sounds positively wicked."

"Doesn't it though?

So we went through the usual greeting ritual again, including Ben and Karen who had come in from the barn when they heard the car in the driveway. Steph had been right, Deb did have a perfect makeup job and I was glad we had opted to go all out ourselves. Deb gave me a weak squeeze on the hand as we were introduced and did the same for Stephanie. I began to wonder if there wasn't some kind of friction between her and Tom's wife. She hadn't told me much about her, even though I had heard stories of everyone else in the family by then.

"Stephanie! Is that an engagement ring?"

"Like it?" She held her hand up prettily. "It sure is!"

"Congratulations, sis!" her brother said. "When do we get to meet him?"

"That gets a little complicated, I'll fill you in after dinner. Everything's ready."

So, we were opting for indigestion. With a bit of shuffling and dancing we all ended up around the large table in the dining room as Stephanie and I brought out the dinner. While Tom and Deb seemed a bit reserved, it may have been only in comparison to the outgoing Lucy and Bernie. Funny how one family can produce such different personalities.

The kids took off for the barn immediately after dessert, leaving the adults to themselves, not to mention the dishes. Seven people did make the old farm kitchen a bit crowded, but we sure set a record in cleanup.

"Now why couldn't you children have done it like this when you were younger?" asked Hilda as she placed the dishtowel on the hanger.

"Because I knew if I did a lousy job on the dishes you'd get exasperated and do them for me, Mom." answered Tom.

"Was I that easy to get around?"

"Still are. OK, the dishes are done, I want to hear all about who Stephanie is marrying," he replied.

"Come on. Kate." Bernie put his arm around me and guided me into the living room. "I'm looking forward to the show!"

"Bernie, that's a strange comment even for you," exclaimed Deb. "All we want to know is what kind of man got Steph to say 'yes' after all these years."

"And therein lies the drama, my dear sister-in-law. Sit yourself down, you're going to need it."

As a professor of English, I think it would be best for the plot of this narrative to spare you further repetition of how we explained the situation; it didn't differ all that much from the first two times. Even with Bernie's sense of humor, the audience this time wasn't so receptive. Tom, who had Lucy's warning, seemed bemused but Deb was so pickle faced not even her perfect makeup could help.

The funny thing was, Hilda seemed to be enjoying the whole scene. My future in-laws grudgingly accepted my presence, but Deb had one more problem.

"Stephanie, I can't stop you from doing what you like, but I would prefer my children not be exposed to this."

At which Bernie started to laugh. "Deb, do you honestly think there's a chance either of them don't already know all the gory details and a few more our kids have invented? Unless I miss my guess, the first thing out of Karen's mouth was the complete story with all the bells and whistles. She takes her cultural diversity pretty seriously and hasn't quite left the black and white world of childhood. For that matter, she knew more about the difference between gender and sex than I did. If you're still confused, talk to her; she'll give you an earful."

"This kind of thing is not suitable for children, Bernie."

"Perhaps, but I think your offspring would be considered 'young adults' these days. You have to let go sometime or they'll leave you behind anyway. Next semester Julia starts college — she could easily end up in Professor Kate's class."

"Don't borrow trouble, Bernie. Is she going to Brockport?" I asked.

"You are a professor at Brockport?" Deb's tone dropped the spring chill several degrees.

"Yes, I am." The phrase 'being outed' suddenly had a new clarity to me. It had once seemed so simple to keep Kate and Steve in separate worlds.

"And they allow this kind of behavior in their staff?"

"I'm not sure 'allow' is the correct word, Deb. The college has a formal, written policy of tolerance for gay, lesbian and transgender people. They really do have a commitment to the diversity of humanity."

How far that commitment would go is something I didn't want to test. I had no plans to appear on campus as Kate, yet something in her voice made me want to stick out my tongue and scream "Nyah...Nyah...Nyah, you intolerant bitch!" Fortunately Kate was me and I was Kate and she would never do something as childish — in public.

"Darling, Academia is a very different place from the world we live in," temporized Tom.

"But our daughter...." She couldn't continue.

"Will find the same thing at any campus these days," Tom finished for her. "I can't say that I really approve, but we have to let her make her own decisions and hope we have shown her how to choose wisely. Compared to sex and drugs and alcohol, this seems to be less than an earthshaking problem."

"Thank you, Tom. I think. I'm flattered to come out ahead of the most common vices."

"I don't think there is anything common about you, Kate," Stephanie announced. "I wouldn't be marrying you otherwise."

"I suppose two brides would make the ceremony far from common, little sister. You are even crazier than I thought." Tom seemed to be having a hard time deciding whether to be amused or upset.

"Thomas, of course there won't be two brides, your mother wouldn't stand for it," Hilda butted in. "We've already started planning for the ceremony, haven't we, Kate? Since you've opted to wear the wedding gown, Stephanie is going to wear a tux.. Have you asked Bernie if he'll be your Matron of Honor yet?"

I was going to have to kill her. The situation was hilarious, if you had a warped sense of humor, but I was going to have to do something very drastic. Trouble was, I couldn't come up with anything dire enough on short notice. It had to be Jump On Tom night for Hilda to make such a suggestion.

"I'd be honored, Kate. Why should you be the only crazy one in the family? Can I borrow one of your bras, Lucy?"

I was going to have to line them up for execution.

"Silly, my bras won't fit you. I'm sure Kate buys her own bras, so you can do the same. I want to wear a tux, too! Can we wear crushed velvet, Steph? I always liked the way crushed velvet looks."

Now I was going to have to contract out the job. Three would be beyond my means.

"Thomas, I think it's time we go home," Deb demanded. "I don't see any point in continuing this discussion."

Whew, maybe I should hire Deb as executioner, she'd freeze them solid at twenty paces. Nice to keep these things in the family.

"Perhaps you're right, dear. We need time to think about all this."

---

Monday morning at 5AM I was awakened by a godawful racket. Logy from restless sleep I couldn't quite figure out what was happening.

Oh, it finally penetrated. An alarm clock.

Five AM? You've got to be kidding!

I felt Stephanie stir beside me and grope for the snooze button. Silence, blessed silence.

"What the hell was that for, darling?" I asked.

"I've got to get up."

"At five in the morning?"

"School starts at seven."

"Barbaric! Hasn't anyone at the school board read all the studies that say children's brains don't function until after 9AM?"

"Perhaps, but what would that matter? Their parents have to get to work so they have to get to school before they're awake."

"And I thought getting stuck with a eight o'clock class was disgusting."

"You college types are living in luxury and don't even know it."

Can I stay in bed? I have to be Steve today and don't have to worry about makeup."

"I'm not worrying about makeup either, girlfriend. Seven year olds don't give a hoot about how my face is painted. You can sleep in and I'll make my lonely breakfast all by myself."

"My heart bleeds for you."

"Something else might start bleeding if you aren't careful, girlfriend."

"OK, I'll get up."

"Good choice, Kate."

Actually, it felt just plain wrong to put on Steve's clothes that morning. One lousy week as Kate and I was ready to forget an entire lifetime as Steve. Was I crazy?

No, don't answer that question. I don't think I would like the answer any more than I liked reverting to Steve.

Actually, there was less of Steve than there had been before with the new curls on my head and the small gold studs in my ears. My reflection in the mirror revealed more than a little of Kate even if I was in Steve's clothes.

I had a couple of hours to kill after Stephanie left, my class was at a sane 10:00 AM. With time to kill, I thought I would check into renting a camper for the summer.

"Avarice, the spur of industry!" I muttered, thanking David Hume for his observations on human greed. Five hundred bucks a week to rent a trailer? That's more than a cheap motel and you don't have to put gas in a motel room!

We were going to have to rethink our summer plans. Was Stephanie all that set against a tent and sleeping bag?

I shut down the computer, but that only gave me time to get nervous about how my new style would be greeted on campus. Yes, I know I was far from the most outlandish figure to be found there, but those figures weren't me. Eventually I drove in and found my way to my classroom. I was at my desk going over the day's lesson plan when the students started to arrive.

"Hey, I like the look, Professor Tucker!"

"Good morning, Patty. Our glorious spring weather over the break inspired me to change my style."

Yeah, spring for polar bears! I never saw no polar bear with red curls."

"Could you be trying to say 'I have never seen a polar bear with red curls'?"

"Whatever. You know what I mean."

"Unfortunately I do. Thank you, Patty. It was nice of you to notice."

"Don't take much to notice you, Prof!"

"Whatever!" I can speak the lingo if I want to.

I took some grief from my colleagues, but after a couple of days my more feminine presentation had become the new norm. Not that it wasn't mentioned now and again for the remaining eight weeks of the semester, but it was only in kidding, I don't think anyone realized how seriously I was wanting to live as Kate. I shuttled between Kate and Steve as the occasion demanded, but it did put a bit of a strain on me to switch personalities. Frankly by the time finals rolled around Steve and Kate had become far less separated than they were when Kate was first unleashed on the unsuspecting world.

Stephanie took my news about renting a camping trailer as a personal insult.

"Five hundred bucks a week? That's … (mumble, mumble)… Four thousand dollars for eight weeks! We could BUY a trailer for that!"

Oh-oh. What had I started?

"Get the paper, lover. We need to make our first major purchase together!"

So that's how we ended up driving around the county looking at used campers. Surprisingly, if we were willing to look at older models we could buy our very own home on wheels for about half the price of renting a new one.

Did we want to spend that much money? I was in the middle of electrolysis and that wasn't cheap. Then there was the wedding, also not cheap. So we talked about money, how we would pay the bills, should we have a joint account, all those questions you have to resolve when you get married. Figuring we could get several years of use from the camper it looked like a good investment. If we were able to rent the cottage again it would easily cover the expense.

So we looked and debated and finally settled on a 8 year old, 26 foot trailer. My practical side looked in approval at the well preserved chassis, mildly dented exterior and new tires. My feminine side liked the small but functional kitchen/living/extra sleeping area. Stephanie's lustful side took one look at the queen size bed and the decision was made. I had to agree, no more sleeping on the ground for this girl now she had someone to sleep with!

As we each made out a check for half the price I took a moment to examine how 'I' had so easily become 'We'. In a couple of months my life had changed completely. I had settled into domesticity and femininity as if that had been the goal of life. Perhaps it was and I had never realized it. Stephanie and Kate completed each other, and Steve was little more than the guy who had to go to work a few days a week. The more I thought about it, the less relevant Steve was becoming.

---

At last finals were over and Kate was free. Well, almost free — there was one little hitch. Stephanie still had another month of classes for her second grade. Steve had been stored in the closet in the back room, but Kate was still chained to Stephanie's job.

Monday morning at 5AM I was again awakened by a godawful racket. By now I was used to it, but it didn't make it any more palatable.

I felt Stephanie stir beside me and grope for the snooze button. As had become our custom I reached out and played with whichever breast came to hand.

"Mmmmm… That's nice." She murmured.

"I've always enjoyed playing with breasts."

"So much so you found some of your own?"

"Let me rephrase that. I've always enjoyed playing with your breasts. Mine are over there in the drawer and no matter how much you played with them it wouldn't do any good."

"Such a shame. Maybe you should get some of your own sometime. That's a really nice feeling when you do that."

"The nice feeling is mutual. Too bad surgery is so permanent. I think I would like having my own breasts, but Steve would find them a handicap."

"Steve? I don't see no stinkin' Steve. If you want to be Kate then become Kate. Permanently."

"Don't think I haven't considered it, but I do like my job and want to keep teaching."

"There aren't any women teachers at the college?"

"None of my kind of women — at least that I know of. Transitioning on the job is a hard course to set."

"When you're sure, then do it. If you aren't then wait until you're sure. I love you no matter what you do."

"Even if I rip off the sheets and kick you out of bed?" I suited my actions to my words.

"You bastard! Ten more minutes? Please?

"Your charges will be left teacherless if you don't get up now."

"Bastard."

"Make that bitch — at least until the fall semester rolls around."

---

Stephanie managed to get dressed, eat and go on her way with only a few snarls of jealousy. Me, I was daydreaming about what I should do with the day when the phone rang.

"Hello"

"Good morning, Kate!"

"Hilda, I think you need to siphon some of that morning cheerfulness off and inject it into your daughter."

"My daughter never did like mornings. Her father sometimes had to pull the sheets off and dump her off the mattress to get her to school on time."

"Good god! I didn't have to move the mattress but I had to do the sheet thing this morning."

"That plays hob with the old saying that women marry a man like their father. Henry wasn't anything like you and I'm not just talking about your gender preference, dear."

"I do tend to make things difficult. Was there a reason you called or were you just doing your part to spread cheer throughout the land?"

"Actually, I thought my almost-daughter-in-law might like to join me on a trip to the garden center."

"I was just sitting here trying to decide what to do with the day. That would be lovely, Hilda."

"Then get your face on, I'll be over in half an hour."

Actually, I already had my face on. Since the electrolysis was well under way I had to invest much less time in shaving. That was the good part, the bad part was the sessions where a swarm of little, tiny bees attacked my face, stinging the roots of my hair. Their relatives found their into my purse and removed my savings while they were removing my beard, but on the whole it was worth it. I no longer had to shave at dinner if Kate was going to be out in public. By the time Stephanie finished with school I just might be able to retire my face razor.

By the way, I really don't want to relive the time I spent in a chair with a technician poking needles in me to remove my hair. Suffice it to say that I spent as much time as I could pushing the limits of what the hair removal people could do. When the residual pain bothered me I could hear my father's voice in my head saying 'Suck it up, son, and be a man.' Hey - it's my head and if I had to be Macho to become more feminine then blame it on my intended in-between lifestyle. Anyway, I spent less and less time shaving, not to mention much less time looking at the balance in my savings account. The cost was considerable, but years of simple single life left me with the resources to afford it.

---

Garden centers are some of my favorite places on this earth. You can get completely carried away when you walk down row after row of bright flowers and sparkling green leaves. Even though our potting shed and greenhouse was filled with pots of plants started in the artificial warmth I wasn't ready to stop there. Those were the annuals, the tomatoes and peppers and such, along with marigolds to border the vegetable patch. Marigolds are such cheerful flowers and they help keep the bugs away.

When Hilda had arrived at the farm we fired up my trusty pickup, the better to fill its flat and spacious bed with greenery. Hilda had more modest ambitions, looking at things for a window planter at her place in town. I wanted to plant some hollyhocks along the cottage wall and find something for the small bed by the back door. The crocuses had poked their heads up not too long after the ground warmed and the tulips and daffodils were just about gone by now. I was dithering as to whether some Allium or a Hyacinth would look better when Hilda spoke.

"Perennials, eh? You must be planning to stay for a while."

"For the rest of my life. Your family certainly has created a beautiful place to live, Hilda."

"Flatterer. Stephanie's in charge now, heap the sweet talk on her where it will do some good."

"Aye, and is it not your own sweet self that begat the dear child that I should be thankin' for bearing her?"

"Kate Hepburn yesterday, a leprechaun full of the blarney today — a quick change artist are you?"

"I'm as constant as the weather in April, my dear almost-mother-in-law. And I'm serious about how lovely your place is. How could you have left it for some prefab monstrosity with paper walls and rude neighbors?

"That was long ago and another time, Kate. I'm happy where I am and I still have my memories. I'm pleased you are so willing to keep the place beautiful, Steph has had some terrible tenants."

"So I gathered. I found some very interesting stuff in the basement of the cottage. I take it some college students were there once upon a time."

"And once is all the times she will rent to anyone in college. Those bastards filled the rock garden with beer bottles before she threw them out."

"I suppose they were empty bottles, so they didn't even contribute any nutritional value to the soil."

"Not unless cigarette filters have nutritional value. We had to sieve the dirt to clean out the glass and trash."

"Well, I promise to recycle my wine bottles properly."

"They whined too when she threw 'em out. Actually had to have the sheriff come out and haul them away."

"Remind me to pay my rent on time. She's one tough cookie."

"And proud of it. It's going to take a strong woman to stay happy with my daughter."

"Your daughter is the one teaching me to be strong as a woman. It's a whole different set of skills than what makes a strong man. Perhaps that's why I find life as Kate so satisfying — I never really grasped the whole macho man thing."

We were passing a wrought iron bench as we spoke and I motioned her to sit with me for a while. She turned to face me and took my hand.

"Were you really so different before I met you as Kate?"

"Yes and no. I don't mean to waffle, but I've come to think that the core of my personality is more what most people think of as female. I got along OK as Steve, but I was never really invested in it, if you know what I mean. No close friends, no long term relationships. Something always seemed to get in the way of that kind of closeness. I now think it was because Steve was an artificial construct I created to blend in with society. Kate is who I should have been if fate had been kind."

"Fate. Fate can be a truly nasty bitch. I thought I would have my Henry with me forever. He was a good man and he adored our children. He couldn't understand Stephanie and it hurt him terribly when she married Faruq. She was in love and no one could convince her he was going to make her life miserable, although we all saw it quite clearly. Kate, I hate to be so blunt, but are you going to make my little girl miserable?"

"Hilda, I think you can see the answer for yourself. Have you ever seen her as happy as she has been since we found each other?"

"No, but she was ecstatic about Faruq, too."

I don't doubt it, but she was, what, 17 years old?"

"Eighteen when she met him. They got married four months after they met and she was pregnant within weeks."

"At least that's one thing you don't have to worry about. You know Steph has had her tubes tied. It might be theoretically possible to undo it, but we don't intend to try. It isn't fair to the children to start them so late in life. Their parents should be with when they graduate or get married, not pushing up daisies."

"I'm not so desperate for more grandchildren, Kate. I wish I could see Tarik and Yasmin, though. Such beautiful children to be fathered by such an uncaring man."

"Someday, Hilda. Don't tell Stephanie, but I talked to an old acquaintance who wound up in the foreign service. I think he was shocked to hear from me, but he's going to find if there is any trace of them to be found. Unofficially and informally. Don't get your hopes up, it could be months before anything turns up. It's not exactly his first priority, but he will try, I'm sure."

"From your lips to the lord's ears. What a generous thing to do."

"I love your daughter. She still mourns her lost children and if I can help I will do whatever it takes. I just hope that if they turn up they will enrich her life and not cause more pain. There's always a chance that a good idea will turn out badly."

"So there is, but if you don't try you can't win. I don't know what I expected to accomplish by getting to know you better, but woman or man, I think my daughter has made the right choice this time.

"You don't know what that means to me, Hilda. I'm an only child and my parents died far too early. I've never had a family and becoming part of yours has been one of the most wonderful things to happen to me. I know the course Stephanie and I have set makes it hard to accept me, but you and your children all seem to have the ability to see the person and not the mask. I'm just sorry I can't get to know Henry. He must have been a wonderful man."

"He was, but he could be as exasperating as his daughter. I can see a lot of Henry in Stephanie."

"Odd, Stephanie says the same about me and Steve."

"I think I won't go there. Well, we did come here to look at plants. Did you see anything that would climb that trellis on the back porch?"

"There's some trumpet vines over that-a-way, kemo-sabe."

---

"The Doctor can see you now, Professor."

"Thank you, Sarah," I replied. The place was pretty much deserted during the summer break, but there was the usual 'skeleton staff' available if any of the students should need counseling. I rose, feeling distinctly odd. Not because I was a professor (albeit an adjunct) in the student counseling center, but because for the first time in several months I was wearing typical male clothing. The sort of clothing I had taken for granted for forty four years but now seemed very foreign to me.

Go figure.

"Come in and sit down, Steve," invited Andy. "What can I do for you on this fine morning?" Andy sounded like he was in a jovial mood.

"You may come to regret asking that question, my friend, but since you asked, I'll answer."

I have known Andy almost since I started at the college. One of my students had some serious mental health issues and I had spoken with Andy quite often in dealing with her crisis. A large, bearded man, he had a gentle nature and self deprecating humor that put everyone at ease. He was also a very good counselor, with an innate ability to provide honest advice and comment to his patients.

I had no idea how my student had fared since she left the school but I was impressed with Andy's professional skills in helping her in her distress. We had come to be friends in a loose sort of way, stopping to chat now and then as we met on campus, but not growing very close.

"I suppose I should start with a question of my own, Andy. How much do you know about Gender Identity Disorder?"

"You know Steve, after all these years of talking to people I sometimes think I've heard it all, but then people keep surprising me."

"You and me both, Andy."

"At least I'm in good company. To tell the truth, I've had some experience in the field. We had a transsexual student here a few years ago and I had to learn a good deal about the subject. I'm no expert by any means, but I know enough to realize my ignorance."

" 'Education is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance,' to quote Durant. I suppose philosophy could be considered a bridge between our fields of study. But I didn't come to talk philosophy, I came to talk about what's happened to me and see if you could offer me a push in the right direction. "

"I won't beat around the bush, I have come to believe I have Gender Identity Disorder. Funny, but there's a temptation to say you 'suffer from' a condition like GID, but that's not accurate at all. I've found a peace and wholeness living as a woman that I never knew as a man and it's time to talk to a professional and see how to proceed from here."

"You know, Steve, I just hate it when patients come in and start quoting the DSM. One of these days they're gonna dispense with us human beings altogether and just have the patients fill out a form on the Internet and get treatment over the wires."

"I was hoping to leave the DSM out of this because I don't fall under any of the neat little categories they have."

"Surprise, surprise. Not many people do. Can I ask you for a little background here? How long have you been concerned about your gender? What have you done about it?"

"I don't think I've ever been 'concerned' about my gender, more like I just didn't give a damn. I never really bought into the 'boys should do this and girls should do that' routine. When I was a kid I played little league twice a week and helped my mother in the garden whenever I could. I played dolls with the girl next door and Cowboys and Indians with the guy on the other side of the street. I swiped my cousin's clothes once and tried them on but the whole girl-boy dichotomy was still a mystery. I used to be able to open the hood of a car and do some good before computers took over and I still knit sweaters and scarves when the urge takes me. In other words, I was never unhappy as a man but I wasn't really happy either. Call me wishy-washy, undecided, ambivalent. I just didn't care."

"So what changed? Obviously something has or you wouldn't be here."

"I fell in love. Sometimes I think I fell into the pages of an English farce, I mean who would believe I discovered my femininity by falling in love with a woman?"

"Maybe you should consult Monty Python and not me."

"Don't think I haven't considered it. But seriously, living as Kate for the last months has convinced me that I am far more feminine than masculine."

"Kate?"

"The name I've chosen for my feminine side."

"But she's not completely feminine?"

"Is anyone completely feminine or masculine? I think I'm coming to a balance, but with the feminine noticeably stronger."

"You mentioned falling in love. May I ask about how this affects your sex life?"

"I suppose we do have to talk about that. Good thing that my feminine side is more comfortable talking about sex. Actually my sex life is better than it ever was. How can I put it? I have always enjoyed sex when I found a willing woman, but it has never driven my actions. I simply don't understand the whole macho, grunting caveman approach. A lady who I grew very close to many years ago told me I made love like a woman even though I had a penis. She was complimenting me but I didn't fully understand it until very recently. I enjoy using my original plumbing, so to speak, but life is far more than sex."

"And this dichotomy doesn't disturb you. Or your lover?"

"Maybe it should, but it doesn't. As for Stephanie — my fiancée's name, by the way — she's the reason I found my feminine side. It's a long story but the condensed version she was horribly abused and couldn't let a man near her. She let me wear her robe after an accident with a manure pile and things snowballed from there."

"Steve, I really think I need to consult Monty Python, or at least their scriptwriters, before offering any advice. After a mixed metaphor like that what else makes sense? I'll suspend my curiosity for a later session, I'm trying to get a feel for the overall picture here. So your fiancée is supportive of your desire to live as a woman — at least outside the bedroom?"

"Very much so."

"You do realize that if you start taking hormones your ability to perform as a man will be impaired?"

"Of course. I question whether I would actually need hormones in the long run. I've been living was a woman for some time now and have been accepted as what I appear. My body doesn't appear to be stereotypically male of female, my clothes and other visual clues make a big difference.

"And how do you think the clothes you wear make a difference in your relationship?"

"I don't think it's the clothes all by themselves. Don't get me wrong, I do love wearing skirts and dresses, but it's more a way of looking at things. There's a change of perspective that gives me a wider view of the world. That, and it just feels right. I haven't felt satisfied with my life for an awful long time, but being Kate has made me a whole person for the first time."

"Being Kate. An interesting way to put it."

"I suppose she's always been there, but I never really looked deep enough."

"And if you had to stop 'being Kate' and had to become Steve once more?"

"I don't know. Now that I have come to realize Kate meets some deep need I wonder if I could go back to being Steve."

"So, do you have a plan that will allow Kate to become real?

"She's already real, but that's where you come in. I have already become Kate, but I realize that if I just showed up this fall in a skirt all hell would break loose. I've read the Standards of Care and the DSM, so I know I don't fall into the usual categories. I know I'm going to have to jump through a series of hoops to satisfy the rest of the world, particularly the College, that Kate is the real me and I want to get the process started as soon as I can. I know that I'm going to have to see someone who specializes in GID and hope you can guide me to the appropriate people.

"You don't ask for much, do you Steve? Sounds like I need a magic wand or a bottle full of Genie rather than a Doctorate."

"Wear a turban and I bet you'd make a great Genie."

"Nah, I'd be to embarrassed to show my belly with those vest things they wear.. The best I can offer is to do a little checking and see who I can refer you to. I don't think Dr. Bartz is still practicing any more but there has to be someone who can help you in the area. The field of transgender care has expended quite a bit in the past decade or so."

"That's all I can ask, Andy. That and some help with breaking it gently to the administration that I'm going to be crossing the gender line sometime soon."

"Have you thought seriously about how this will affect your job status? I really don't know how a sex change would play out with the administration or the faculty. My transgendered student had some rough times but did OK. You would be considerably more in the spotlight when you change. Look at the publicity the teacher over in Batavia got when she transitioned. Don't forget that if someone On High wants to get rid of you there is always some way to cite a reason that has nothing to do with the gender change."

"I know it's a risk, Andy. A big one, perhaps. Dean Santos is a pretty laid back guy, but I don't know how he'll react to a situation like this. However, I have no doubts it's the right course for me and Stephanie"

"I think you're going to have to do some powerful convincing to make the gatekeepers believe you are serious after only a few months of crossdressing. Do I have it right that there is no long history of gender dysphoria?"

"To misquote our former president, it depends on what you mean by dysphoria. I haven't been satisfied with my life for quite a long time, but I couldn't figure out exactly why. It wasn't bad enough to seek professional help, but it wasn't what you would call living happily ever after, either. Learning to enjoy my feminine side simply crystallized the dissatisfaction and made it clear. I haven't felt so good in and awful lot of years, Andy."

"If it works for you, my friend, then I won't question it. Trouble is there will be a whole lot of others lining up to tell you how to live your life. They have to be convinced if you hope to keep your credentials and keep teaching. Scratch an academic liberal and it's amazing the intolerance you find under the skin."

"You don't have to tell me! Tenure has been one of those shining goals far off in the distance for my entire life."

"At least we shrinks don't have to worry about tenure. Remember, nobody ever found the Holy Grail, either, and that didn't even involve sex. Give me a day or two to see what I can find. Can you make it back on Thursday?"

"Not a problem, I intend to spend the rest of the week in our garden before going off for a couple of weeks of vacation and playing Tourist."

"While I slave here manning the barricades and Showing The Flag for all to see. I had the foolish idea that academics got the summers off when I went to school."

"Some of us still do. Good thing I fell in love with a teacher so we both have the summer off."

"Go ahead — rub it in. Speaking of your love interest, I think it would be good to meet Stephanie on Thursday, as well as Kate."

"Well, I suppose Kate has to be seen on campus sometime, so why not Thursday?"

"No reason in the world. I'll put the appointment in the book myself so there's no need to let my receptionist make a connection sooner than need be."

"Thank you, Andy. I know it has to happen, but I want it to be controlled and not a screaming scandal."

"Until Thursday, then."

He rose and opened the door.

"See you then."

---

"So how did it go, honey?"

I sat down in the living room chair and looked at Stephanie.

"As well as I could expect, I guess."

"That bad, huh?" she laughed.

"Well, not bad, just..." I trailed off.

"Slow. The word you want is 'slow', isn't it?"

"Like molasses in a Brockport winter. Like electrolysis. Like ..."

"Are those similes or metaphors? I never could get the two straight."

"Well, there are a lot of people who wonder if you're straight with me for a mate."

"Damn straight, lover. Let them wonder.!"

I want to be Kate forever starting RIGHT NOW, but I may have to go back to being Steve until the Medical Establishment will believe me and produce the Magic Paper that lets me do it. It's frustrating!"

"Want some platitudes? Those I remember, even if similes and metaphors confuse me. 'All things come to those who wait', 'You can't always get what you want' or 'Slow and steady wins the race'."

'Sorrow and silence are strong and patient endurance is godlike.' "That's Longfellow, an appropriate name to invoke for something that looks like it will take forever."

"Well, you get to spend forever with me, lover."

"Indeed I do. By the way, you're invited to accompany Kate to her next session with Andy."

"Cool. Brave enough to let Kate be seen on Campus?"

"In the summertime, maybe. After the last couple of months I know I don't have to worry much about people reading me. They see what they expect to see and I won't disappoint them."

"So take off that Steve disguise and Kate can help me weed the garden."

"I'd rather chop wood, it would help me to release some of the frustration."

"Pooh! You just don't want to do the weeding."

So I went off into the bedroom to become myself again and got gloriously smelly and sweaty chopping wood. In spite of the tickling and itching as perspiration dripped down between my forms and skin (one more reason to get the real thing!), chopping wood wasn't a bad idea - I didn't have to think very hard and the repetitive work kept me from brooding on how long it would take to go from Steve to Kate. Publicly, I mean. It hadn't taken very long for me to find Kate within myself.

---

While Stephanie slaved away in the education mines, I spent time with Hilda in the garden. My mother-in law (I had abandoned the 'almost' because the commitment was a done deal even if we hadn't had the ceremony) and I got to know each other quite well. Henry was no longer a shadowy figure in the past, her stories had breathed life into the memory of her long dead husband. I was saddened to have missed him.

Then there was the day that Hilda and I went strawberry picking. I was ready early that day, having been assured the earlier they were picked the better the strawberries tasted. I had been instructed to dress in old clothes, a problem since Kate's wardrobe hadn't had time to get old. I had to rely on Steve's cast-offs.

I strapped myself into the gaff and slid on a pair of padded panties, then an older pair of shorts. Tight at the hips with the padding, but they went on. Hey — high fashion wasn't called for in a strawberry field. At least Kate had a black T-shirt with a feminine neckline. I just hoped the strawberry stains would be hidden by the black fabric.

Hilda gave me an appraising look when she arrived, but didn't say anything for a moment.

"You do realize that you'll be wearing pink panties when we're done no matter what color they started out."

"Why Hilda, I love pink panties."

"You would, I suppose. You are a strange woman, Kate." That had become kind of a joke between us over the last few weeks.

The strawberry field was only a short drive away. Actually, everything in Brockport is a short drive away; that's one of its charms. We pulled up in front of a wooden stand along a country road, where Hilda got out with a collection of baskets from the trunk and talked to the woman in the booth. The woman weighed them and marked a price on each one. Pick your own strawberries are sold by the pound, so each price would be deducted from the total at the end.

It was a short drive past an orchard to the field — walking distance really, if you weren't carrying a load of strawberries. We got out and hiked until we saw a little orange flag in the middle of a row of strawberries; that's where the last customer stopped picking. I looked around at the other people in the field and tried to figure out just how best to pick strawberries. Some were sitting, some were kneeling, others bending from the waist and still others were crawling on all fours. In any case, the strawberries were close to the ground, not at a convenient height like the apples on the trees lining the strawberry field.

There were also about a million kids running around, strawberry picking was obviously a family affair. Two rows away there was a flaxen-haired little girl about three years old who would run to her father with each and every strawberry she picked, crying "Look, Daddy! I picked my very own strawberry!" Ah, the enthusiasm of youth.

I tried sitting cross-legged, but with the gaff that quickly became uncomfortable. Besides, every time I moved I felt a strawberry or two squish under my bottom and I knew that Mom was right about pink panties. Pink polkadots, for sure! Kneeling was not too bad, but it was hard to reach the strawberries at the far side of the row (and the best ones were ALWAYS on the far side of the row) and stay balanced, so I tried the crawling position. Better stability, but I sure could feel my breast forms as they dangled beneath me. Since it was getting quite warm after a little while, I became aware of a certain stickiness as they moved against my chest and felt an occasional drip of perspiration. There were quite a few things I'd never considered when I decided it would be fun to spend the summer as a woman!

Picking those babies was hard work; I wondered how the professionals in the far field managed to do it all day, every day. You couldn't pay me enough to do that! The basket I pushed along the row seemed to fill with exquisite slowness, but perhaps that had something to do with how many strawberries ended up in my mouth instead of the basket.

After a while I became aware of a couple of teenage girls halfway across the field. They were completely out of place in this rural setting, bikini tops showing their budding cleavage, short shorts and several gleaming reflections from navel, brow, nose and lip that told me they thought they were the baddest bitches on the block. Believe me, I've enough of them in my classes to know them when I see them.

They had stopped picking berries and were watching me intently, whispering to each other every so often. As I crawled along, I kept an eye on them; this was a situation that could get ugly. I knew from the discussion boards where I lurked on the web that these specimens were every crossdresser's worst nightmare. Their usual habitat was the mall, an environment that I avoided when at all possible, but here they were, staring at me. In that warm field I was very glad my practically hairless face no longer needed make up to hide a beard, but there was no way I could ignore them. Hell, I began to worry about just about everything. As I've said before, I have a very active imagination. I was relieved when their mother (or whoever she was!) told them in no uncertain terms to stop lollygagging and start picking.

At last, the baskets were full to Hilda's satisfaction and we made our way back to the car. Air conditioning never felt so good! I thought we would head for home, but Hilda stopped at the Wegmans for sugar and bags for the strawberries. She insisted on treating me to lunch at the Chinese buffet in the store.

The air conditioning in the store was heavenly, at least until my legs, far more exposed than usual in the shorts, got a bit chilly. Wegmans had pioneered the idea of the food court inside grocery stores in the area and the food is pretty good. I had resorted to their take-out more than once when I wasn't in the mood to cook for myself, but had seldom actually sat down and eaten in the store.

Once home, we settled around the table, armed with sharp knives, to hull and slice strawberries. How strange and yet commonplace to be sitting with my new mother at the table, gossiping without a care in the world! It soon became obvious that my ass was not the only part of my anatomy that would be pink by the end of the day. I was going to have to change nail polish color; the blue just didn't work with strawberry stains. By the time Stephanie got home the jars were full of preserves and the freezer fill of ripe, red fruit.

---

"The Doctor can see you now, ma'am.

"Thank you, Sarah," I replied. The place was still deserted

The place was as quiet as it was two days before and the young woman hadn't changed, either. She showed no sign of connecting me to the professor she had seen on Tuesday, much to my relief. No matter how good I felt about being Kate, during the transitional period I knew I was going to worry about people who could connect the dots. I've been that way all my life when I had a secret, so it wasn't surprising I still worried.

"Come in and sit down, Kate," invited Andy, "And you too, Stephanie."

"Thank you, doctor, " Steph replied.

"Please, it's Andy. No need for formality when you're about to bare your soul."

"Sounds like church. I don't see any hymnals laying about."

"That's because you've never heard me sing," Andy grinned. "Believe me, it's best to stick to conversation."

"So, what have you learned, Andy?" I asked. Best to get to the point.

"I was correct in thinking Dr. Bartz had retired, but I have a list of several people in the area with specialties on LBGT issues. I have no personal experience with any of them, so you'll have to simply call down the list and find someone who is accepting new patients. Kate, I'm afraid the only way to decide if a therapist is right for you is to pay them a visit and ask your questions."

"Nobody said it would be easy and I'm finding out how true that is. It all seemed so simple when I had that blinding revelation that I was meant to spend the rest of my life as Kate. I've never felt so at peace with myself and so sure of what I needed to do. Too bad the rest of the world isn't as accepting as Stephanie."

"Ah, Stephanie. Just how accepting are you? Should I ask Kate to go and powder her nose before you answer?"

"I don't think so. I'm in love with Kate and nothing's going to change that, but every once in a while I wonder if I'm crazy for being so happy with a woman who is still part man."

"Not an unjustified fear, I would think," replied Andy. Our culture does tend to want things like sex and gender to be black and white. Not to be gauche, but I do you both assume the traditional sex roles when making love?"

"Most of the time."

"And you enjoy his being a man when you make love?"

Stephanie's eyes got a faraway look for a moment. "Very much so, but that's just the problem. Am I crazy to want to have a man for sex and a woman the rest of the time?"

"My dear, in my professional life I have heard a truly remarkable spectrum of sexual practices, variations that would make the proverbial sailor blush. Many fall far out of the norm, but unless what you do together causes you anguish or there is an intent to harm your partner, I can see no reason to worry about it. "

"There was a time in my life when I succeeded in making quite a few sailors do a lot more than blush. I didn't give a damn about what happened to me and tried just about everything physically possible to stop myself from thinking. What Kate and I do in bed is Sunday School stuff compared to what happened back then."

"Indeed. Interesting you should use the phrase 'Sunday School'. Do you have religious concerns about your relationship with Kate?"

"I stopped believing in god a long time ago, Andy."

"Perhaps, but your early training often comes back to haunt you. Is there some biblical Patriarch in your head looking down and telling you you'll burn in Hell forever!"

"Not a patriarch, but a little old woman named Sister Grace."

I sat there and kept quiet while Andy teased the story of Steph's disastrous marriage and her wild behavior afterward. She had landed in a free clinic run by the Sisters of Mercy after her divorce and subsequent depressive episode and they had brought her back from her downward spiral. There was something about Andy that made you trust him almost instantly. It had taken me months to learn about Stephanie's background, Andy took only minutes to get the story.

"All I can say is life changing decisions like this one never come without a host of problems. I'm a generalist, I can't claim any expertise in gender issues, so I can only urge you to take this up with your gender therapist. However, what I can say is that if you are comfortable with Kate's dual gender then you have no need to question your own sanity."

"I don't really question abut my sanity, Andy, but sometimes my past comes back to haunt me. Kate is the reason I can deal with the ghosts, her love is what keeps me going."

"My dear," Andy commented, "If all the people in the world were as resourceful as you I'd be out of business."

"Not much chance of that happening. I think I have a couple of students in my second grade that will be good candidates for your services in a few years."

"I suppose there's an inexhaustible supply of patients after all. So tell me, Kate - when it comes to sex, are you comfortable with reverting to being the male?"

"I do enjoy it, but I have sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a woman and feel a man inside me."

"You and most of the male population, although not many would admit it. It's completely normal to wonder - it's called 'empathy'. Then you feel no need to change your genital plumbing?"

"Not really. I sometimes wonder about having real breasts, but from my point of view our sex life is just fine as it is."

"On that we agree, Andy!" Stephanie grinned as she spoke.

"Then I think we have explored that subject sufficiently. Other roadblocks will come along, you realize. How will you handle it when some right wing wacko starts picketing your house. When some busybody calls in a child protective referral on the teacher with a deviant boyfriend? It could happen, you know."

"That would be my sister in law. She's none too happy about us." I must have had quite a grimace on my face.

"So it hasn't been all sweetness and light? How has the rest of your family been with the situation, Stephanie?

"Pretty good. They think I'm crazy but that's nothing new. Compared to what happened after the divorce this is pretty tame stuff."

"What about your friends, Kate?"

"You know what? I've realized I hadn't had anyone I could honestly call a friend in many years. Loads of acquaintances, but no real friends."

"That's not as unusual as you might think these days. Our culture has lost much of the personal touch. I think you are doing remarkably well with so momentous a life change, both of you."

"Don't worry, if the school decides that Kate is too much for them I'll need some help"

"Indeed you shall. I'm not sure what else to say other than to wish you luck with making your dreams come true. Whoever you choose to be your gatekeeper, don't be afraid to give me a call any time you need to talk."

"Thank you, Andy. That's something I won't forget."

"Me either, Andy," Steph added. I think we have another friend to add to our small list."

"Indeed."

"You get a lot of mileage out of that word!" laughed Stephanie.

"Indeed I do."

We left the office laughing, which clearly made the young student at the desk wonder what was going on. Oh well, life is a series of mysteries, isn't it?

So I went home and started calling down the short list of gender specialists. Much to my disappointment, the first opening was in July, the week after we planned to be in Allegany State Park. I know specialists are busy people, but I didn't want to wait.

---

Eventually the flowers were starting to establish themselves in the garden, Stephanie's school year ended and the summer solstice arrived; time for the Pie Festival. This annual gathering of family and friends at the old homestead had been glowingly described to me by one and all. It seemed most of the world came to eat, socialize, camp out in the yard and eat some more.

The family had arrived Friday night and was filling the various bedrooms of the old house. Excited, I arose with the dawn and padded out to the mailbox in my nightgown to retrieve the paper. (Yes, I was still sleeping with a lightweight bra and foam breast forms if you were wondering.) I spent a little while sitting on the sofa and catching up on the latest calamities in the world. They were still blowing up people in several countries, the usual politicians were telling the usual terrorists they couldn't win, while the sports types were denying they used drugs and the economy was doing fine even if everyone was unemployed. A perfectly normal day.

"Good morning, Aunt Kate"

"Good morning, Julia. Nice to have someone else to share the morning with."

"I have to be up for soccer practice about now and I haven't managed to get on a summer schedule yet. I like your nightgown, Aunt Kate."

"Why, thank you, Julia. I haven't had many compliments for wearing a dress lately.

She giggled. "I bet Mom must have done her Ice Queen routine when she found out."

"I think that's a fair description."

"Is it true?"

"That I was born male? Yes, it's true. Does it bother you?"

"I don't think so. I kind of wondered when I first saw you, but if Karen hadn't said anything I don't think I would have really thought about it too much. Don't tell Mom, but I did a project on gender roles for school and I met a couple of female impersonators."

"This is the real me, Julia, I'm not impersonating anyone. The whole thing started as kind of a joke, but I found I like being Kate. A lot of people won't understand that."

"Like Mom. I don't want to get too personal, Aunt Kate, but what is it about being a woman that makes you want to dress like one?

"You know what, Julia? Most of the family has been very accepting, but you're the first one who has asked that question."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." She stammered.

"No, I'm glad you did. I'll try to be honest, but I'm not so sure I know the answer."

"That seems funny. Did you like being a man?"

"It's not so much liking or disliking; I simply grew up as a man and never had any reason to think about it. I enjoyed women like most men do as far as I can tell, but I never really thought about becoming one. I've always admired things that most people consider feminine, like building consensus and empathy, and I do things like knit and sometimes sew that most men don't do, but I have a pretty strong independent streak and can get pretty stubborn about doing things my way sometimes."

"Then why did you decide to try being a woman?"

"It wasn't so much a decision as the result of circumstances. How well do you know your Aunt Stephanie?"

"Not too well, Mom and Dad are kinda embarrassed by her. They won't tell me why, but she did something that upset them."

"You need to talk to your Aunt Steph sometime about her first marriage. I won't go into details now, but she married a Iranian man who mistreated her badly. She couldn't see why her parents were worried; not because he was a foreigner, but because he treated her like property. When the marriage failed she did some stupid things. Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll kind of things."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. It's her story to tell so ask her. Anyway, she didn't trust men all that much as a result."

So I told her the story of the horseshit and how I ended up in Steph's robe, then wearing her panties. The funny thing was how easy it was to talk about it, just two women sharing life stories. No embarrassment, no fuss, just sharing.

I was curious and asked her to tell me about her gender role project at school. The conversation brought me back to my own youth, to those late nights when we would gather in someone's basement and explore the ultimate meaning of the universe and probe Truth And Beauty endlessly. There was a subtle change in attitude as Kate, one that let the differences in our ages melt away. Julia was a wonderful young woman who had a great deal of empathy and was truly interested in how I felt and why I wanted to dress as a woman.

The thrust of our conversation was slightly different than the times Steph and I had approached the subject. With us, there was an assumption that this was the right thing for us; with Julia, I explored WHY it was the right thing, what made it so compelling that I would defy the conventions of our society to do it. I realized that the core of her interest was in the way I had chosen to defy the expectations of those around me, to question the assumptions I had been taught and find a way that was right for me.

"I think that may be the simplest definition of maturity, Julia. When you realize that you alone are responsible for what you make of your life. Your parents and teachers and all of society have tried to show you what is right or wrong, but in the end you have to judge for yourself. That's a hard thing to do at any age. Your parents seem to have some pretty strong values, but I think you are starting to question them, right?"

"Sometimes they can get pretty preachy."

"Try being a professor sometime, it's a constant battle not to start preaching. I know it's sometimes hard to remember that they love you and only want the best for you, so you should give their ideas a fair hearing. Most of what they say will make a lot of sense but some of it won't. The hard part is some things that don't make sense right now will make a lot of sense later, when you have more experience with life.

"Most parents try to help their kids jump over the hard parts by telling them what not to do. That's human nature, but there's no substitute for your own experience. Grandma Hilda knew that Steph was doing something dumb when she married the guy and tried to save her the pain, but Aunt Steph had to learn a lot of lessons the hard way and it cost her many years of agony to realize that her parents really were concerned for her and not just being racists or prudes.

"Sometimes it takes a great deal of time to realize what's right. I'm in my forties now and until a month or so ago I had no idea how much of me was what society considers feminine. I thought I was perfectly happy as a man, but I had never made a real connection with another person. I told you the whole thing started as a joke, but by playing at being Stephanie's girlfriend I found just what was missing from my life. All I can say is if you keep your mind open and try new things, someday you'll find what is right for you. It's going to be different from what's right for everyone else, so don't be scared when other people don't approve. Just remember that they might have more experience than you in dealing with new ideas."

"No easy answers, are there, Aunt Kate?"

"There never have been. The Christians have something when they talk about the easy road leading to Hell."

"Can I come and see you when I'm in school, Aunt Kate?"

"Of course, assuming the college will accept me as Kate." They still think I'm Stephen.

"How do you manage to keep it all straight?"

"Your Aunt Steph told me to check what underwear I have on before deciding who I am."

She dissolved into real laughter at the joke. "Uncle Steve wouldn't be wearing a bra, right?"

"Nor padded panties nor stockings. Those are some pretty good clues."

"I wondered how you got your curves."

"They came from an Internet catalog and were delivered by mail. It does take the glow off the image sometimes, but after a while I don't notice the padding and just feel like Kate. Your female impersonator friends probably have a much more sophisticated version of what I use."

"Actually, they both had surgery and there was no way to tell their breasts weren't natural. I saw them at the strip club and please don't let my folks know."

"Wait a minute! Where did you find a female impersonator strip show in Rochester?"

"Not in Rochester, silly. It was New Orleans."

"I suppose you can find anything in the Big Easy, but how did you manage to get into a strip show in New Orleans without your parents finding out?"

"Because I left them home. I talked them into letting me to Mardi Gras with a friend's family. Her cousin works there and he got us in for free and introduced us to the girls. You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Julia, anything we talk about is our business and I'm not spilling any secrets to your parents"

"Thanks, Aunt Kate. Anyway, they sure looked like girls, even with their tops off."

"You did this all in the spirit of pure academic research, I assume?"

"Of course." She really had a nice giggle. "I used the whole experience for my project much later. Some of the girls even let me interview them on the phone when I got serious about doing the project right."

"Tell me, were they happy that they had had the surgery? I have sometimes wondered what it would belike to have breasts of my own."

"Funny, Susan told me that she had always wanted to have breasts ever since she was old enough to know what they were. She couldn't be happier now that she had them. Carol more or less considered having breasts a tool of the trade, but she was a very cynical person. I suspect she turns tricks on the side, but she wouldn't talk about it.

"If you can get people to open up like that, you may have a bright future as a researcher, Julia."

"What will you do if someone from the college finds out about Kate?"

"I've put some thought into that. Quite frankly, when this started I assumed that Kate would stay quite separate from my life at the college. Of course, we assumed that no one would know that Kate was anything but Stephanie's friend and she would disappear into oblivion at the end of the summer. It's not quite working out that way. People have noticed that Steve has become more feminine. I took a bit of ribbing when I had my ears pierced and my hair permed."

"What would happen if Mom made a fuss with your dean or something?"

"I really don't know. We do have a policy about transgendered people at the college, but I never thought it would affect me. When the E-mail popped up on my computer, I thought it was just one more piece of junk mail that the administration sent to justify the big bucks they're paid. I don't think they'd fire me, but I'm not tenured. I suppose they might not renew my contract if too many people got upset."

"If they do, I'll organize a demonstration on campus."

"Let's not go there quite yet. Kate is still just a middle-aged woman living on a farm and has nothing to do with academia. I think. Maybe."

"Don't ask — don't tell, is it?"

"That seems to be working just about as well for me as it does the military. Too many people know the truth about Kate as it is."

"I hope Mom doesn't make trouble. She still thinks I'm a little kid sometimes. I bet she wanted to make sure I didn't know about you."

"You do know your mother well. She wasn't pleased when we didn't agree. Besides, if the other kids know, then you should know. How's your brother taking it?

"I'm not sure. He doesn't talk about his feelings much. He's kind of like dad — ignore it and it will go away."

"This might be a situation where ignoring the unpalatable will make life run more smoothly. I think we ought to make breakfast and we can talk more later, OK? I'm hearing stirrings upstairs."

"Sure. I hear you're a pretty good cook."

"That's one of those things you'll have to decide for yourself. In any case I'd better get dressed so I don't scandalize anyone."

---

Deb did not look pleased to find us together in the kitchen, but what could she do about it? Banana pancakes were the order of the day, courtesy of a bunch of very ripe bananas in the kitchen. Julia was as competent in the kitchen as her aunt and her brother Tony volunteered to flip pancakes and let me eat after he consumed the first batch. The conversation was a bit stilted, but at least it was civil.

We were just collecting the dirty dishes when a horn sounded in the yard — Lucy and Bernie in their catering truck.

"Everybody still speaking to each other?" Bernie inquired as he came into the kitchen.

"At least until you got here," Steph replied tartly.

"You wound me, sister of mine!"

"Don't tempt me. You're safe until after the tent is up, anyway."

"Slave driver. So what's the plan here?"

"The plan is for us ladies to go pick cherries for the pies while you men can put up the tent." General Stephanie was ordering the troops for battle.

"Oy vey! I really am going to have to start wearing a bra too, if it gets me out of swinging a sledge hammer."

"If you could hit the stake on the head more than once in every three swings, it would make the job a lot faster, brother in law. You need all the practice you can get."

"I shall save a wooden stake with your name on it for your cold, cold heart, my loving sister-in-law. You have to sleep sometime."

"You'd miss that one, too and I'd wake up before it did any damage. Come on, ladies, we'll let the gentlemen cope with the dishes and see if they can handle them."

The six of us that were currently considered ladies soon filled Deb's station wagon. Was it chance that put me in the middle of the seat next to Deb or was I finagled? I'm not sure who was more uncomfortable for the next ten minutes as we made our way to the Hurd Orchards, me or her.

"Who's picking the blacks and who has the reds?" Steph asked as we pulled in at the stand.

"Karen and I can show Aunt Kate where the black ones are, while you old folks go and be find the red cherries." offered Julia.

"Julia, I...." Deb was quickly overruled by her sister-in-law.

"That sounds like a good plan, Julia. Do you think the two of you can keep Karen from eating so many cherries she gets sick?"

"Aw, c'mon, Aunt Steffie. I was a little kid then; I know better now."

"How many cherries do we need, Steph?" I asked.

"Let me get you the containers. Just fill them up and wait for us to get back."

"You're abandoning me with these two angels?"

"Cope with it. The reds cherries are on the other side of the orchard. You can have a tea party in the flower house while you wait."

So we went through the now familiar ritual of weighing the containers and I was left with the girls.

"Jeez, Julia, I thought your mother was going to have a kitten. She doesn't like Aunt Kate much, does she?"

"She doesn't really know me, Karen," I temporized. "I think she's afraid I might molest you or something. You read an awful lot in the paper these days about children being sexually assaulted."

"But you're almost related to us. You wouldn't do that."

"Of course I wouldn't, but most of the people who sexually assault children are family or friends of the family. That's a scary thought for a mother who's leaving her child with a man wearing a dress."

"Oh. I didn't think of that."

"It's a shame we have to think that way, but that's the way it is. Enough of the scary stuff, we're here to pick cherries. Show me where the picking is best."

"Let's start with the closest."

So we picked cherries and even got a few into the pail instead of our mouths. Actually, after a couple of dozen, you kind of lose interest in eating them. There were dark black ones, bright red ones and blushing pink ones. They all had names, but I don't really remember them. When we got to enough dark ones we found some of the pink ones. It was obvious we were not the first to pick them; unlike the darker ones, the fruit at ground level was gone and we had to get up higher to pick them. There were ladders scattered throughout the orchard, so Julia and Karen brought one over to our chosen tree.

They were funny ladders, with a very wide base that narrowed as the steps got higher. I assume that made them easier to get up into the cherry trees. The back of the ladder came to a point that easily penetrated the ground, so it wouldn't slip. I began to regret not having changed out of my dress before we left the house. Oh, well. Nobody here but us chickens, so up I went.

"I see London, I see France," the familiar chant floated up to me in the leafy precincts of the cherry tree. "I see Auntie's underpants and they're pink!"

Karen was absolutely correct.

"Watch it, kid, or I'll accidentally drop this bucket of cherries on your head."

"Ooh! Threats!"

"Then I'll make you cut the pits out of all of them while I relax, you little hellion."

"Big deal, we got a pitting machine and I probably have to do it anyhow."

No way to win this one, so I went back to picking cherries. We filled our allotted containers and I paid for the booty, still getting a little thrill in opening my purse and taking out the money. I took advantage of some of their baked goods and we settled at a table in the small shelter to enjoy them while we waited for the others. Gradually I became aware that Karen was studying me closely.

"You look like you have a question, Karen."

"Nah."

"The why do I feel like a bug under a microscope? Go ahead and tell me what's on your mind. If the question is am I really a man then the answer is yes."

"I know that it's just..."

"It's just that I have to be pretty weird to be doing this, right?"

"She's cool, Karen," Julia encouraged. "We talked for a long time this morning."

"Karen, I want you to be able to ask me anything you want. If it's none of your business, I'll tell you; otherwise fire away."

"Are you really sleeping with Aunt Stephanie?"

"Me and my big mouth. We share the same bed and the rest is none of your business. Are you sleeping with anyone?"

"OK, I get it."

"I'll talk about sex as long as it doesn't get personal. The same thing goes for you. As I told Julia; my lips are sealed about anything you tell me short of kidnapping or murder plots. Nobody else hears anything we talk about except maybe Stephanie if you don't mind. Parents are out of the loop."

"That's OK, I like Aunt Steph. What's it like to be someone else? I mean, you can pretty much be whoever you want to be, can't you?"

"I suppose that's true in a way, but not as much as you would think. I'm still the same person inside that I always was. It's not like I suddenly threw away all the things I used to like and decided I would love following NASCAR and collecting stamps from South America just because I wanted to be someone different. You don't change the core of who you are so easily."

"But isn't being a girl a big change from being a guy?"

"In many ways it is, but it's surprising how many ways it isn't. What I found is it's more a change in emphasis, a different way of looking at things. I'm still me, but I see things differently and I like what I'm seeing. That and I have to admit I really like the clothes."

"Yeah, you're always wearing dresses and skirts. What a pain!" Well, she was only fifteen after all. "You actually like wearing a bra? For real?"

"I suppose it makes a difference because I want to wear one and you have to wear one."

"Do I ever! Mom could have kept that part of it out of the genes she gave me."

"I'll take a little bit of it if you want to get rid of it, cousin," Julia offered.

"Don't I wish. Mom tells me that they'll be great for keeping the boys interested, but they're a real pain."

"I suppose that's the way of the world, Karen. Julia wants more, you want less and I would be happy with anything. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have real breasts."

"That's funny. I almost forgot you're a guy. What do you put in your bra, water balloons?"

"I bought a pair of breast forms so I would look natural."

"How come you didn't get boobs as big as mine? I thought all guys wanted big boobs."

"Actually, we probably have about the same size breasts; it's just that I'm so much bigger than you that mine look smaller in proportion. I wanted Kate to be an ordinary woman. I don't want men staring at my boobs so I deliberately chose to have a C cup."

"You're lucky. I didn't get any choice about being a D. But doesn't that feel, like, phony having to do it that way?"

"A little bit, but is it any more phony than wearing makeup or a using a corset to make your body look better?"

"Mom won't let me wear makeup yet."

"Good for her! Anyway, you know what I mean. Women have breasts and I don't, so in order to be as much like a woman as I can, I have to have a little help."

"But what makes you want to be a girl in the first place?"

"Let me ask you what you like about being a girl first, Karen."

"Jeez, I don't know. I never thought about it."

"Did you ever wonder what it would be like to be a boy?" I asked

"Sometimes, like at summer camp. It's a real pain to pee in the woods."

"That wasn't exactly what I was thinking of, but I'll admit it's a lot easier to pee in the woods standing up."

"And you don't have to wipe off. Leaves just don't work!"

"Isn't the scout motto 'Be Prepared'? Better have some toilet tissue in your pack. I know I do for when I'm hiking."

"You sound like the counselors."

"Besides peeing, what do you think it would be like to be a boy?"

"Well, I could get to play sports without being called a lez."

"And a guy who takes Home Ec gets called gay. What else?"

"Boys are bigger and stronger."

"Would you like to be bigger or stronger? Would it make your life better?"

"Maybe."

"And maybe not. What else?"

"If I were a guy, I wouldn't have to wait for someone to call me for a date." Julia joined the conversation.

"I take it your Mom doesn't like assertive women?"

"That's not the word she uses. I get frustrated sometimes."

"Anything else different about being a boy?"

"Boys just, like, do things; girls talk about it first."

"And...." I prompted

"Guys can do whatever they want and get away with it; girls have to be ladylike or we get yelled at."

"Do you see a pattern here?" I asked. "Other than being bigger and stronger, most of the differences are about attitude — the way you think about the world and your place in it."

"Cultural expectations," Julia said. "Everyone expects you to act a certain way because of how you were born."

"That's right, Julia. You might find it hard to believe, but things are a lot better now. If my father had tried to dress like a girl, he would have been beaten up by any man who found out, maybe even arrested or committed to a mental institution. If I wanted to dress like a girl as a teenager, my parents would have sent me to a psychiatrist. The idea of Women's Lib was still pretty controversial back then, cultural expectations were still pretty rigid."

"Things are a lot looser today. Your Aunt Stephanie was the one who encouraged me to try to see what being a woman was like. I think Bernie and Lucy like me and it doesn't matter a bit to them what sex I was born. Even Julia's folks are only upset and concerned, not ready to lynch me."

"Is it worth it, Aunt Kate?" Trust a fifteen-year-old to cut to the heart of the matter.

"Yes, it's worth it. I'm a better person because of what I know from being Kate and I never would have fallen in love with your Aunt Stephanie if I hadn't been willing to become a girlfriend she could talk to. I like being Kate very much, girls."

"Are you going to stay Aunt Kate forever?"

"Ask me this fall, child. It's too soon to know if there's more Kate or Stephen hidden in my brain."

"Did you really ask Dad to be your maid of honor?"

"What?!" Now Julia and I were doing the echo routine.

"Where did you hear that?"

"Mom and Dad thought I was asleep last night when they were talking about you."

"I'm not sure I want to hear this, Karen." But I did, Kate was getting too damn polite.

"Don't worry. They like you, Aunt Kate."

"The stuff about him being my maid of honor was just a joke, dear."

"You just haven't had time yet to find out what a weird sense of humor Daddy has. I think he wants to do it just to see what Aunt Deb would do."

"Mom would go into orbit," Julia confirmed. "Daddy is trying to be fair, but Mom doesn't really like you, Aunt Kate. The only reason she hasn't told me to stay away from you is because I haven't given her a chance."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but it isn't really a surprise. She tried to tell me to stay away from you, but Stephanie laid down the law with her. I don't really like being in a position where I'm causing a family fight."

"If it wasn't you, it would be something else, Aunt Kate. Mom still thinks she can run my life even after I turned eighteen. I'm glad I'm going away to school next fall or I really couldn't stand it."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Julia. I see a lot of that in my freshman students, a big change like that is hard to handle."

"Sort of like changing gender, Aunt Kate?"

"We all have to leave our parents sometime, so everyone who's done it understands what's happening to one degree or another. Gender change is something most people won't understand, but it's guaranteed to be stressful."

"I like the way you always look at both sides of a problem, Aunt Kate."

"Training, Julia. In order to understand a subject, you have to look at it from all angles until you understand the whole. You know that old saw about the blind men and the elephant."

"It can't be just training, it has to be something in you...."

"There you are!" exclaimed Lucy. "We've been looking all over the place!"

"We've been here all along, solving the problems of the world. If you had waited another ten minutes, we would have finished revising the Universe and put our plans into action. Have a cherry."

"Thanks. Do your grand plans include a way to get all the pies baked without any effort?"

"Well, Karen volunteered to pit all the cherries in penance for singing about my underwear."

"Do tell?"

"Aunt Kate hasn't been a lady long enough to know how to climb a ladder yet. I see London, I see France..." piped up my young nemesis.

"And I suppose you were standing under the ladder and looking up completely by accident, young lady?"

"Well...."

"Let's call it a learning experience on both sides before anyone gets into further trouble," I offered.

"We will talk later. We need to be going."

The ride back was subdued. Karen and Julia sat in front with Deb and silence reigned. I could tell that Steph was royally pissed, but this wasn't the place to ask about it. Nor could I when we got back home, there was too much to do for us to disappear so I could find out what was happening.

How to describe that day? In some ways it felt good to be part of a family, to listen to the banter and joking between siblings and their spouses, but the obvious chill when Deb and I were in the same room was disturbing. I was glad to spend a couple of hours riding the lawnmower and tending the hedges in preparation for the crowd tomorrow. As I circled the yard, I watched a little drama play out as Tom and Deb came out and sat on the garden bench. It was obvious they were arguing. Each time I circled around to where I could see them, they got further apart on the bench and their body language was clear even across the yard. Eventually, they weren't there on the bench as the garden came into sight, so I tried to put it out of my mind.

I had no doubt that I was the source of the argument. When I returned to the house, I could feel Deb's eyes drilling into me as I walked through the room. All of us politely managed not to notice her obvious attempts to keep Tony and Julia away from me; no one wanted to cause an incident, but she was far from subtle about it. The odd part was she played the same game with Tom. Who was she shielding from whom — her kids from a perverted man, or her husband from a woman she didn't trust?

I tried to keep my distance from her. Steph tried to be available to be the peacemaker and Bernie kept winking at me. I'm glad someone was enjoying the comedy. When Hilda came, we added another dimension as she tried to figure out what was going on. We made it through dinner with tempers still intact, but we weren't a jolly group.

Hilda set her napkin on the table and looked at the family.

"I haven't had to do this for quite some time, but I feel now is the time to hold a family meeting. We need to get the things that are bothering us out in the open before they fester."

"Children, you may be excused now," announced Deb.

"I'm sorry, Deborah, but they may not be excused." Mother Hilda had iron in her voice. "They are part of this family and need to be part of our discussions."

"Well I...."

Hilda cut her off. "I'm not going to pussyfoot around the issue. Stephanie has chosen to bring Kate into our family The fact that Kate is a man who dresses and behaves like a woman is hard for some of us to accept. I used to include myself in that category, but as I have gotten to know her. She is just the kind of person I want my daughter to be with."

"There is obviously a range of opinions about the propriety of how Kate chooses to live her life. I don't want to presume to know what any of you are thinking, so I would like to go around the table and have each of you honestly tell us all how you feel. I would appreciate it if everyone was able to speak without interruption. There will be time for discussion later. Please remember," she was looking directly at Deb, "that honesty does not mean incivility."

This was a side of Hilda that I hadn't seen before. The formality of her words, the commanding edge to her voice were what might be expected of an Admiral or General addressing their command.

"Lucy?"

"I like Kate, Momma. She's kind and gentle and funny and just the right person for Steph. Can't you see the glow in her eyes when she looks at Kate?"

"Bernard?"

"Hell, I'm going to be her Matron of Honor at her wedding. What more do you want?"

"This is no time for joking, Bernard. Was that a serious answer?

"It was. Matron of Honor or Best Man, I'll be standing next to her when she marries Steph."

"Ben, you may be young yet, but you are part of the family. Do you have anything to offer?"

"Not really, Grandma. I just want you to stop being mad at each other."

"Thank you, Ben. Karen?"

"You guys are all making a big fuss over nothing. If she were gay, would you all be on her case like this?"

"If being gay was the issue, we wouldn't be discussing who your Aunt Stephanie was marrying, would we?"

"Oh."

"Do you have anything else you want to say?" Karen shook her head. "Anthony?"

"I haven't really gotten to know Aunt Kate yet, Grandma. I guess it's pretty weird to think she's really a man, but I can't see it's hurting anybody because of how he dresses. Jeez — I don't know if I should say 'he' or she'?"

"I believe the accepted protocol is to use the pronoun that matches the person's current appearance. 'She' would be correct, Anthony."

Now just where did Hilda find out about that little bit of convention?

"Tom?" Hilda prompted.

"I'm feeling like I'm ten years old right now. I always wanted to hide when Dad went 'round the table.'" He paused. "I'm uncomfortable about Kate. I don't like the idea of a man wearing a woman's clothes, but I will try to be honest and say that may reflect more on my own masculinity than on anything Kate is doing. From what I've seen today, Kate is a kind and loving person. Perhaps when I get to know her better I can say more."

"Deborah, it's your turn."

She took a moment to gather herself and then spoke. "I don't understand what you people can be thinking! This is perverted; it's unnatural. He's a man and he's mocking everything about women. I don't want to be near him and I don't want my children near him. I've had enough of this politically correct crap; I want to go home and not have to pretend that perverts are perfectly all right!"

"I believe you have made your feelings perfectly clear. Julia, do you have anything to contribute?"

"No she doesn't!" announced Deb. "I've had enough of this charade."

"Mother, I do have something to say and I will say it whether you want me to or not!" Deb was shocked speechless at this rebellion. "I'm ashamed at the way you've been insulting Aunt Kate. I know you don't approve of her transgenderism, but that isn't any reason to call her a pervert. I had a long talk with her this morning and she is a perfectly reasonable person who was very open and willing to tell me why she has chosen to be Kate. You haven't spoken three civil words to her all day and yet you think you know so much you can call her a pervert. You're not a pervert, Kate and I want to be your friend if you'll let me."

"Thank you, Julia. I appreciate that very much," I replied. "Deb, I don't want to be a cause for trouble in the family and I'm sorry my choices are so repellant to you, but Stephanie and I have made this choice and this is how we are going to live our lives. If that bothers you so much, I will try to keep my distance as much as possible, but we do have to find a way to let the rest of the family be together without walking on eggshells."

"May I have my turn now?" asked Stephanie. When no one spoke she continued "What Kate said goes for me, too. Right now Kate is the person I need in my life and that's not subject to argument. All I ask is that when you are in OUR home, you remember that I will not tolerate personal insults to anyone in this house. We won't solve this tonight, but I'm glad we got it into the open so we can deal with it. Kate and I have agreed we will answer any questions you want to ask us, so don't just assume you know what we are thinking. I think it's time for bed, Kate. Can we adjourn the meeting, Mother? "

"One more thing. This discussion is a family matter. We will not discuss Kate's gender with anyone at the festival tomorrow. She is a good friend of Stephanie's and that should be sufficient. You grandchildren can call her Aunt Kate just like you call other close friends of your parents Aunt or Uncle."

"One more thing, Mother. I'm engaged to a man named Stephen who couldn't be here for the festival. Just tell people you haven't met him and don't know anything about him. Adjourn the meeting, Mother. We're going to bed."

---

Steph closed the bedroom door firmly and twisted the lock.

"Perverted! That bitch! I'll show her perverted! She threw off her shirt and dropped her pants on the floor in the time it took me to unbutton my dress. I tossed it into the laundry basket and started to remove my breast forms. I started, but didn't get too far because Steph kissed me passionately.

"Leave them in," she commanded as she released me, "and lie down, lover. I want to get perverted."

Steph usually wanted me to be the one to initiate our lovemaking, but tonight was emphatically different. No matter how we related outside the bedroom, it was Stephen who made love to Stephanie, but tonight Stephanie was perversely determined to make love to Kate. She tore my padding out of her way and had me hard in no time, then stayed on top and in control until we were completely satiated.

And she didn't worry about who could hear us. No, that's not right. Stephanie was unusually vocal and she didn't call me 'Stephen' once.

---

I was able to sleep in the next morning, voracious sex will do that for you. I couldn't wait to get dressed up for the party that day and was trying to make up my mind what to wear. How much things had changed in so short a time. As Steve I never got excited about what I was wearing, but as Kate it was truly a joy to pick out an outfit and be able to wear it. All men get to choose is what color tie to wear. How boring!

We played like kids in the bathtub, shaving each other's legs and getting each other distracted. Clad only in fluffy towels, we ran back to the bedroom where I finally decided on a full orange crinkly skirt and a gauzy angel sleeved top. I wore long silver earrings that swayed like pendulums with every move of my head and several jangling bracelets on my arm. Have I mentioned how Kate was completely unable to pass a jewelry counter without buying something?

Although we both usually wore flats because of our height, we had decided that today was a day to go all out and we both wore sparkly, high heeled sandals, mine in gold and Steph's in silver to complement her blue skirt. She had on a low cut blouse that tied in the back and made her large breasts even more prominent. Just to make sure, a large pendant dangled in the deep valley between her breasts. Damn she looked good!

"Damn you look good, girlfriend!" she exclaimed as I finished my mascara. "Let's go and show that bitch how a real woman lives life!"

"Just don't blow the party, hon. We are the class act here, no common vulgarities until we're in bed again, OK?"

"Fuck you!"

"Not now, I don't want to ruin the makeup."

---

Even with all the time it took us to get dressed, we were still the first to show our faces that morning. The party didn't start until noon, so we still had time for a relaxed breakfast. Too bad the family tensions were going to make that impossible.

We had just started banging pots and pans when Tom stumbled into the kitchen. He was still in his pajamas and frankly he looked like hell.

"Tom!" Stephanie cried, "You look like a man in serious need of coffee."

"Coffee, hell, I need a lawyer. Deb and I split last night."

"Tom!"

"It's been coming, sis. Last night was just the proverbial straw. If it wasn't that, it would have been something else."

"But Tom, why didn't you say anything?"

"Did you say anything when Faruq was giving you the shaft?"

"But...."

"I just wish we could have put this off until after the festival. I'm not going to be very good company today."

"What about Deb?"

"She's gone. I don't know where she went, but I can guess who she's with. His name's Dennis Donnelly."

"Oh, Tom, I'm sorry."

"I know, sis. Deb never bothered to figure out Caller ID. It didn't take long to connect calls from him to the nights she was out at a meeting or something. They've been at it for a couple of years now."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"Steph, our marriage has been a sham for a long time. I tried to talk about marriage counseling when we started sleeping in separate bedrooms, but she wasn't having any. The only reason I've stayed in the same house with her is for the kids."

"I didn't know. I didn't even suspect."

"And I damn well worked hard to keep it that way. Didn't you when your marriage fell apart?"

"Yeah, if nobody knows maybe you can still fix it."

"It isn't going to get fixed, but I hate the whole business of divorce."

"What about Tony and Julia?"

"After the shouting match we had last night, I expect they're cowering in their bedrooms. If they don't know Deb's gone, they must have suddenly gone deaf."

"But who will they live with?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. At least Julia is going to school this fall, but I suppose Tony can decide who he wants to stay with as long as this Dennis is willing to let Deb drag her kid along. I have a hard time picturing anyone who would have an affair with a married woman welcoming a teenage boy into his little love nest."

"Tom, if I can do anything to help, all you have to do is ask. And don't go all macho, this is your little sister talking, the one you cried to when you broke up with Sally and the one who pulled splinters out of your butt when you tried to slide down the hay chute."

"Just like you to bring that up, sis. I have lawyers to pull splinters, but they can be a pain in the ass all by themselves."

"Tom, Steph's offer goes for me as well," I told him. "I'm so sorry that my presence has caused you such pain."

"It's not you, Kate. It never was. Like I said, this has been coming a long time. It's kind of ironic that my sister finally finds someone to marry just when I get divorced."

"That's kind of you, Tom, but I still feel sorry. I want to be on good terms with my new family."

"As far as I'm concerned, you're on good terms with me. You may be a little weird, but if Steph likes you then that's enough for now. Look, I'd better get dressed and roust the kids before we end up eating pie in our pajamas."

"I love you, big brother." Stephanie gave him a big hug.

"I love you too, sis. And you too, Kate." His hug was brief, but that he was willing to hug me at all was enough to set me sniffling. Tears and makeup don't mix.

As he left I had one of those thoughts that you don't like to admit. If I could thank Deb for one thing, it would be for relieving me of answering any more questions about crossdressing.

---

Pie Festival? There were plenty of pies, but it would be more apt to call it the Crisis Festival. It got hard to remember who was supposed to know what.

Family knows:
a) Kate is really Steve
b) Steve is marrying Steph
c) Or maybe Kate is
d) Tom and Deb are splitting.

Most everybody else knows:
a) Steph is marrying someone called Steve
b) He's not here today
c) Neither is Deb — don't ask
d) Kate is Steph's old friend here for the festival
e The big trailer is for Kate and Steph to go on vacation together
f) Kate is engaged too and you wouldn't know him
g) Kate's tenant isn't home

My personal list included:
a) Remember that 'my' gardens were now 'the tenant's' gardens
b) Keep my hands off of Stephanie in public
c) Hug Julia whenever possible — she's hurting
d) Get Steph to hug Tony whenever possible
e) Sic Bernie on Tom so he has someone to talk to.

"Oh what a web we weave...." Keeping my mouth shut wasn't an option; this was a curious crowd. One sure way to change the course of the conversation is to ask for a sample of the pie they brought and ask for the recipe. That worked just about every time.

Actually, after a couple of hours the answers started self-replicating and we didn't have to fill everybody in. Somewhere about two in the afternoon, Steph and I had eaten enough pie to dull our interest in the new arrivals. I noticed a good size crowd had gathered under the tent and drifted that way to see what was going on while Steph took time to duck into the bathroom.

Bernie's Uncle Shimon was holding court for his subjects, a benevolent old gentleman with an affable manner. Shimon was a retired furrier from New York City and Bernie claimed he could go on for hours and not use a single story twice. His humor was as bad as Bernie promised. Most of his stuff was funny enough, but the occasional belly-buster made it hard to laugh in a voice suitable to Kate.

"So I'm in this bar, see…" Uncle Shimon starts off. "It's not so fancy-schmancy, but a good place for a couple of beers and maybe a Reuben. The next thing I know, the place goes quiet and I see this woman at the bar. She's dressed in this dark blue power suit with a white blouse just lacy enough to show she's female without losing her place in the corporate food chain. She has a cell phone AND a pager clipped to the Gucci purse over her shoulder and a briefcase in her hand. Well, her bazoobas weren't so brief, if you want to know, and that suit was tailored by someone who knew his business. We all start to speculating as to why she's slumming in this bar, when she looks at the bartender like he was some bug or something and speaks.

'Barkeep, I want a glass of your best twelve-year-old Scotch.'

"Now the lady has a voice like she was English royalty to go along with that power suit, but Maxie the barman, he don't get impressed all that easily. You can see the wheels grinding in his head and I know he just can't resist seeing if the lady knows whereof she speaks. He pours her a glass and hands it to her. As soon as her hand touches the glass, she knows Maxie is running a game on her.

'Barkeep! I distinctly told you twelve-year-old Scotch; this is obviously only three years old.'

"Now Maxie is impressed and all eyes are on the two of them as he fills another glass. Now Maxie is going to milk this for all he can get, so it don't surprise me when she takes one sniff and frowns.

'Barkeep! Is it your usual habit to ignore your customers' wishes in so blatant a manner? This swill is only five years old!'

"You can see the battle has been joined and Maxie tests her at eight and ten years and she nails him every time. Finally, he gives her the twelve-year-old stuff and she knocks it off in one swallow and asks for more. Well, while Maxie fills her up again old Charlie, who has been getting blind drunk all afternoon, starts to feel his way down the bar in Braille until he pulls up beside her.

'Lady, that was shrimply marv, uh, marv-a, uh, wunnaful the way you know your booze.'

"She backs off from the fumes, but you can see she is inordinately proud of her taste buds and will accept the compliment despite the source.

'Well, I do fancy myself somewhat of a connoisseur, my good man.' she replies.

'Here, try this.' and Charlie hands her a glass.

"Now for the first time she seems unsure of the pedigree of the booze, but she knocks it back and then spits it out and sprays Charlie and everybody within ten feet.

'My God, that's urine!' she screams.

'Yeah,' says Charlie, 'but how old am I?'"

See why I had a hard time with my voice? I settled into an open chair and listened.

"This couple had been married for years and argued every minute of the time. When the husband finally died, his wife put the usual death notice in the paper, but added that he died of gonorrhea. No sooner were the papers delivered when a friend of the family phoned and complained bitterly, 'You know very well that he died of diarrhea, not gonorrhea.'

"The widow just says, 'I nursed him night and day, so of course I know he died of diarrhea, but I thought it would be better for posterity to remember him as a great lover rather than the big shit he really was.'"

"Have you heard the one about the Irish woman who was dying?" asked a voice near me.

All eyes turned to a slim black man who had settled unnoticed in the chair next to me while Uncle Shimon was holding forth. He was colorfully dressed in traditional African garb and had a wide grin on his face. While the rest to the crowd waited expectantly, I practically swallowed my tonsils. Would these crises ever end?

The man sitting next to me was none other than Cliff, a fellow professor from the college. I knew him casually as the force behind the school's drumming club. I had heard him hold forth before and knew Uncle Shimon was about to get a run for his money. I was well and truly trapped, I could hardly get up and walk away just as he started his story without attracting a great deal of attention, but I certainly didn't want to be sitting two feet from someone who knew me in my other life!

"Sadly, a beautiful woman lay on her death bed far before her time," Cliff starts out. "Her husband and the priest are attending her in her last minutes on the earth. She turns to her husband and struggles mightily to speak.

'Husband, I want you to promise before the good Father that you will remain faithful to our love and never remarry.'

"The husband is shocked and hesitates in his answer, not knowing what to say in his grief at losing his beloved wife.

'Husband, if you ever remarry then with these two hands,' the poor woman weakly raised her hands into the air, 'I will claw my way out of the casket and through the dark and dank ground to the top of my very grave and return to haunt you for the rest of your days.'

"The poor man was shocked and finally agreed to the woman's plea. She was but moments from passing and he didn't have the heart to see her die in anger. The priest performed the Last Rights and left the grief-stricken husband after consoling him the best he could. The poor priest was completely agitated by the affair and stopped at the pub to ease his anguish. By the end of the evening, the entire town knew of the curse the woman had put on her husband."

"Time passed and after a decent period of grief, the widower began to think of having a new woman in his life, but not one woman in the town would have anything to do with him, having heard of the curse. Eventually he courted a fair colleen from a town down the road and who accepted his suit. They were to be married at her church in a quiet ceremony, but to his distress virtually every soul in his hometown attended the ceremony, breathlessly waiting to see if the curse would come true."

"They stood before the priest who charged them according to the canons, but when he got to the part where he asked if anyone knew of a reason the wedding should not proceed there was a gasp of anticipation. Finally, one old woman, the most enthusiastic gossip of the town, arose."

'Have ye not told the poor girl of the curse laid upon ye? Did not your dear, departed wife threaten to claw through her coffin and dig her way out of the sacred earth to the top of her grave and haunt you and your bride if you should remarry?'

"The sanctuary was completely silent as the man turned to his bride and spoke."

'I'd not be worrying about any curse, me love. I buried her face down. She must be fair halfway to China by now.'"

It was clear the gauntlet had been thrown; two titans of their craft were engaged in battle. I had hardly risen from my chair, attempting to put as much space between Cliff and myself as possible when Shimon counterattacked.

"A funeral service is being held for a woman who has just passed away. At the end of the service the pallbearers are carrying the casket out when they accidentally bump into a wall, jarring the casket. They hear a faint moan from the casket. Hastily, they open it and find that the woman is actually alive! She lives for ten more years and then dies."

"Once again, a ceremony is held and, at the end of it, the pallbearers are again carrying out the casket. As they carry the casket towards the door the husband cries out, 'For God's sake! Watch that wall'!"

I got out before anyone could notice me. There were screaming kids in the hayloft, bocce and badminton on the lawn and groups of people chatting under the shade of the old trees. There must have been fifty or sixty people by now; this was certainly a major event. Despite the frivolity, one lone figure sat all alone in a chair on the front porch — Tom, alone in his grief. I don't know why I did it, but I made my way to him, hearing the frivolity fade behind me as I walked and place my hands on his hunched shoulders.

They were hard as iron, so I gently began to massage them. He was so far into his pain that he didn't even turn to see who was there. I continued to work on his knotted muscles until he sighed and made himself relax. I had learned massage long ago with the woman who I didn't follow to California. It started with a book on erotic massage (anything with erotic in the title would have been fine for us), but eventually I took some of the basic classes in massage therapy at one of the schools where I had taught. I wasn't an expert, but I was no novice either.

You know when you're effective when your subject makes little sounds or sighs, then you can home in on where it is doing them the most good. Tom wasn't the most vocal I had ever known, but he clearly was relaxing and enjoying the rub. I gave him a good thirty minutes; he certainly needed it.

"Do I dare turn around and see which angel from heaven has been ministering to me?" he asked at last.

"I hope when you find out it won't undo all the good I've done. It's Kate, Tom."

Naturally he immediately tensed, but I wasn't going to leave it at that.

"Relax. This is a gift from a friend. I hope we can be friends as well as family." My hands dug into his shoulder blades. "Learning to accept a favor can be harder than giving, you know."

"Ugh." He started to relax again.

"Do you want company or should I just fade away?"

"Stay, I'll get maudlin if I think too much."

"You the type that drowns your sorrows in a couple or six beers?"

"Sorrow can hold her breath longer than I can hold her head under a keg, but a cold one wouldn't hurt."

"Hold on, I'll be back."

I went to the kitchen and got a couple of bottles. Jeez, I was becoming a maid — I put them on a tray with a bowl of snacks and brought them out to the porch. Tom took a long swallow and set the bottle down with a thud.

"How are the kids taking it?" I asked as he settled back.

"Better than I thought they would."

I studied him in silence, hoping he would elaborate.

"Actually, Tony told me they had been expecting it for quite a while now. Damn kids could see what I didn't want to look at."

"Sometimes it's hard to realize what's happening when you're in the middle of it. You get caught up in doing things the way you've always done them, without realizing how badly they work. Kids are good at spotting that sort of thing; they haven't had time to develop the habits, so they don't carry any baggage to compare them to. It still amazes me at the insights my students can have on a piece of literature I thought I had down cold."

"It's pretty easy to see, now that it's out in the open. Hell, when she started cheating I should have admitted we were in trouble, but I just let it slide. I still think of her as the girl I married, not as the woman she's become."

"Maybe that's good. If you can't put it back together, then I hope you won't get into one of those ugly dogfights in court. That's another thing I've seen too much of in my students, one parent who teaches them to hate the other parent. Everybody loses that way."

"You saw what she's become last night, Kate. Intolerant, unforgiving, if it isn't her way then it's wrong. She wasn't like that when I married her."

"We all change, Tom. Tell me what she was like when you married her, what made her special?

"You really want to know?"

"I do. Help me see what made you fall in love with her."

"I met her in college. She was a sophisticated city girl and I was a bumpkin from a dairy farm. I had a real problem with being from a farm; I thought what I saw in the movies was what life was really all about — fancy clothes, fast cars, being cool, money… lots of money. You don't get rich on a family farm. I was embarrassed to have any of my friends meet my dad, sure they could see the cow flop on his boots."

"That's what made me do flip flops when Deb noticed me. She was the woman I saw in all those movies and she didn't seem to notice I was a backwater farm boy. We dated and went to rock concerts and wild parties. She always got noticed and I caught the reflected glory. Like you said, I can see that now, but back then I thought it made me sophisticated just being with her."

"There must have been something more than parties and concerts that attracted you." I prompted.

"She was smart, she was beautiful, she knew her way around. Dammit, she was good in bed. She was my first and I never had anyone else."

"Not many people can say that these days, Tom. So why did you get married."

"She got pregnant. Screwed up taking her pills, although sometimes I wonder if it wasn't deliberate. I had my business degree and got recruited by an upstart tech firm, the future looked good. A few years later they closed; they guessed wrong about how the PC would change things. Deb stayed home and raised babies and I brought home the paycheck. We never starved, but we never hit the big time, either. Pretty sad picture, isn't it?"

"We all get caught up in our expectations, don't we? I don't want to offend you, Tom, but have you noticed that even when I asked you to tell me something good about Deb as a person you couldn't do it?"

"Maybe you're right. Something was missing, but I never noticed it."

"Happens all too often, Tom. Being part of a real relationship is a tough job, men aren't encouraged to think like that."

"And you would know, right?" he said sarcastically.

"I'm not trying to say anything that hasn't been said before. I've been reasonably happy my whole life, but I don't have anyone I could call a close friend. I never got married, either. It didn't seem to matter until I looked at it through Kate's eyes. That doesn't mean you have to dress up like a woman to solve your problems. That's my solution, not yours."

"Somehow I don't think you'll ever convince me to join you. Now Bernie, he's crazy enough...."

"This is getting out of hand, Tom. Every time I make a joke it comes true. Anyway, think about it, Tom. I'm not a shrink and I've never been married, but if you and Deb have any hope of making your marriage work, you both need to discover who you are inside."

'This is getting to sound like a New Age encounter session."

"I told Julia that preaching comes all to easy to college professors."

Just then the door to the house opened and Stephanie came out.

"There you are! I wondered where you had gotten off to. You should get over to the dinner tent and give a listen to the Vaudeville act over there."

"Cliff and Uncle Shimon still going at it?" As if I had to ask.

"Sure thing. Come on and be sociable, girlfriend."

"Join us, Tom?" I asked.

"Well...."

We solved it by each taking a hand and escorting him to the scene of the battle. Shimon must have just delivered a punch line as we got there, because everybody groaned loudly. At least I hope it was the punch line and not us that caused the groan. We settled in to some empty chairs and listened as Cliff started off.

A judge was interviewing a woman regarding her pending divorce and asked, "What are the grounds for your divorce?"

She replied, "About four acres and a nice little home in the middle of the property with a stream running by."

"No," he said, "I mean what is the foundation of this case?"

"It is made of concrete, brick and mortar," she responded.

"I mean," he tried again, "what are your relations like?"

"I have an aunt and uncle living here in town and so do my husband's parents."

The judge said, "Do you have a real grudge?"

"No," she replied, "We have a two-car carport and have never really needed one."

"Please," he tried again, "is there any infidelity in your marriage?"

"Yes, both my son and daughter have stereo sets. We don't necessarily like the music, but the answer to your question is yes."

"Ma'am, does your husband ever beat you up?"

"Yes," she responded, "about twice a week he gets up earlier than I do
."
Finally, in frustration, the judge asked, "Lady, why do you want a divorce?"

"Oh, I don't want a divorce," she replied. "I've never wanted a divorce. My husband does. He says he can't communicate with me."

With a twinkle in his eye, Shimon looked expectantly at Cliff, who was safely on the other side of the crowd from me.

A Jamaican man bought a round of drinks for everyone in the bar, announcing that his wife had just given birth to "a typical Jamaican baby boy weighing 20 pounds."

Congratulations showered him from all around and many exclamations of "Wow!" were heard. A woman fainted due to sympathy pains.

Two weeks later, he returned to the bar. The bartender said, "Say, you're the father of the baby who weighed 20 pounds at birth. How much does he weigh now?"

The proud father answered, "Fifteen pounds."

The bartender was puzzled. "What happened? He weighed 20 pounds at birth?"

The Jamaican father takes a slow sip from his Red Stripe beer, wipes his lips on his shirtsleeve, leans into the bartender and says, "Had him circumcised."

That reminds me of the time my friend, a married man, was visiting his mistress. She's got him on the bed about to do what he came to do when she whispers, "Oh James, I like your beard, but I would really love to see your handsome face."

James replies, "My wife loves this beard, I couldn't possibly do it, she would kill me!!"

"Oh please?" the mistress asks in a sexy little voice and kind of illustrates what is waiting for him if he does. The poor man is torn. It's a hard choice to make, if you know what I mean.

"Oh really, I can't," he replies. "My wife loves this beard!!"

She makes it clear without a word being spoken how much she wants him to shave and what will happen if he doesn't. The poor schmuck finally gives in and she shows him how happy she is about it. Several times.

That night James crawls into bed with his wife while she's sleeping. She starts to wake up, feels his face and says, "Oh Michael, you shouldn't be here! My husband will be home soon!"

Odd how infidelity can be funny if you're not involved. Poor Tom didn't appreciate the joke. Somewhere around then the warm day, gentle breeze and all the excitement of the past few days caught up with me and I nodded out in the comfortable lounge chair while the stories flew above my head. I'm sorry I missed them but sometimes life is like that.

It was the smell of the hamburgers that woke me. The battle of wits must have been adjourned for dinner, because the crowd was no longer surrounding me. I toddled inside and took the opportunity to re-do my makeup for the evening.

I returned to the party and made myself sociable. I was introduced to Hilda's brothers and sisters and their various offspring whenever one got close enough to me for Stephanie to point them out, had a hamburger for form's sake before loading my plate with pie again and felt very smug that I had left the waist cincher in the dresser drawer.

I floated in and out of conversations with dozens of people, sometimes with Steph, sometimes with Hilda, mostly by myself. That was the downside to being Kate tonight, I couldn't hold hands with my lady and let the world know we were a couple. In all honesty, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice; I didn't feel the need to have her as exclusive property and there were an awful lot of interesting people to visit with.

After we had a little time to let dinner settle, the musicians broke out their instruments for the dance. I have never been a dancer, it just doesn't interest me, but I learned to square dance that night. Line dance, too. Which is pretty much the same except you are in a long line instead if an eight-person square.

The good part is that two women dancing together is pretty much normal, so Stephanie could be my partner without anyone wondering what was going on. Even though I fumbled and bumbled as I learned what allemandes and do-si-does were, I had a great time. Dancing in a skirt is a heavenly experience, moving in circles feeling my forms bounce in my bra was even better. The thought of having real breasts again floated through my mind as I wondered how they would feel. I have never felt more alive and feminine than when dancing, Kate was my entire being for as long as the music played.

Even though I wanted to dance with Steph all evening, I found myself partnered with several men. It felt funny at first, but line dancing is not a contact sport. You don't touch your partner much more than you touch all the other people in the line. Tom was a pretty good dancer, but Bernie was hopeless.

The sun set, but the lights that the men had strung around the yard while we picked cherries kept the party going. A roaring blaze attracted most of the younger types, but I'll never understand how any of them had room for s'mores after all that pie! I was glad of my nap, because the last diehards didn't leave until two in the morning.

Steph and I crawled into bed completely wiped out, but very happy. It had been quite a day.

"Still want to get married after all the family crises, lover?" Stephanie murmured into my ear.

"Is this what it's like having brothers and sisters?"

"Pretty mild, I'd say. You should have been around when we were kids. You and Tom spent a long time together this afternoon. What happened?"

"Would you believe a massage? He looked so miserable and lonely I just started rubbing until he relaxed."

"Mmmm. Since you got in some practice time you could put it to good use." She rolled over on her stomach. "How did he take it?"

"He didn't know who was rubbing him until he was relaxed. Actually, we had a good talk. Funny how after being married all those years he couldn't really tell me much about what made her a person worth marrying. Let's not get to where we can't appreciate each other, Steph."

"Mmmph."

I should know better than to ask for an answer when her head is buried in a pillow. I think that sounded like she agreed.

"At least nobody seemed to notice I was anything out of the ordinary. I had a bad moment when Cliff sat next to me."

She lifted her head from the pillow.

"Haven't you realized that you are a woman, despite your genetic handicap? You don't just act like a woman, you think like a woman. Nobody noticed because you were the real you this afternoon."

"You don't say? I have a bit of a problem trying to grasp that, but you might be right."

"Of course I'm right. A little more to the left, please."

I couldn't help but wondering where all this was taking me.