Kate, Part 5 From Psychiatry to Pirandello By Ricky

I arose far too early; I was just too damn excited to sleep. I envied Steph, asleep in our bed, who could sleep through anything short of a tremor at the upper end of the Richter scale. Today I would see the gatekeeper - the person who could open the door to femininity my heart told me to enter. However, just because I was up early didn't mean I got dressed and started my day. What I did was agonize - what should I wear? This appointment was critical, I wanted it to go smoothly. I suppose most born women face this challenge of what image to project on a regular basis, but for me it was a first.

I had to be completely convincing as a woman on today of all days, but what kind of woman? Casual? Chic? Businesslike? Provocative? I put off my decision with a long, hot shower. I shaved everything that needed shaving, moisturized, pasteurized and plasticized and otherwise used every bottle and tube available to make my skin look beautiful before returning to the bedroom. .

The bra was easy, I had just gotten a new one with more lace on it than I usually favored. Because of the forms I tended to wear substantial bras to keep them firmly in place, but today I wanted to be as feminine as I could from the skin out. I carefully applied the glue to my forms and pressed them, one by one, into place. Something else I didn't normally do - the darn things start to itch in the heat of the summer so I normally wore my forms in their cloth covers. Once again the desire to have my own breasts burned within me!

I returned to the full light of the bathroom to be sure they were placed properly, I surely didn't want to come off lopsided for the doctor! The mirror assured me I had done it right. With them firmly attached I snapped up my powder pink bra, appreciating it's support for the weights now hanging off my body.

Today was the day for doing things I usually don't do - like wearing a gaff. A woman of my age needs to be careful about wearing tight skirts so I seldom did, much preferring the loose, flowing look. I like to feel the hem swirling around my legs! But today was special so I carefully inserted my manhood into myself and strapped myself up tightly before stepping into the matching panties. Taking a cue from Narcissus I studied my reflection closely. No hips, but trim and sleek. If it weren't for the edges of my forms protruding from the bra it could well have been a born female staring back.

Returning to the bedroom I noticed an unaccustomed bounce in my boobs, pleasant but a bit distracting. It was time to decide. Professional woman, the thought came into my head. OK, nice contrast - sexy underwear below and tailored elegance on top. I sat on the chair and pulled on a pair of nude pantyhose and put my feet into simple black flats. I shrugged into a simple white blouse with just a hint of lace at the collar. No cleavage, of course. A charcoal grey skirt, just above the knee and matching blazer and I was dressed.

Now the jewelry. Dangly or simple? Dangly, of course. I love watching as the pendulum swings beneath a woman's earlobe. Call me sentimental, but the emeralds that matched our engagement rings were the obvious choice. A couple of gold bangles on my arm and a green scarf around my neck and I had the look I wanted.

Then, with Steph still sleeping, I made my way back to the bathroom with a collection of bottles and such to do my makeup. I did my best to be subtle and effective with the makeup and I think I succeeded. Great! I was done!

Problem was, I had two hours before the appointment. I fooled around in the kitchen, made a light breakfast for us when Steph woke up and waited impatiently. At last the clock crawled to the appointed time, so I unstrapped my nether regions and made a pit stop before leaving. Didn't your mother always tell you to take care of such things before leaving the house? Especially true for people wearing a gaff!

I'll admit it, I was nervous, not knowing what to expect. My first thought on entering the office was that for someone specializing in gender issues, the doctor's office was surprisingly sterile. I got to fill out many pages of paperwork for the receptionist, then sat down, trying to control my impatience. At last, I heard my name called.

I'm not going to go into detail about the session, it's too painful. The doctor, if you'll pardon my vulgarity, had a stake up his ass and seemed to think the DSM and the Harry Benjamin Standards were handed down in stone tablets from Mount Sinai, with every word to be taken as gospel. How could a psychiatrist be so damned inflexible and bureaucratic? Suffice it to say that, in his mind, my unusual path to gender change disqualified me from consideration.

I managed to make it back to the car before I started crying. To hell with the makeup, to hell with the doctor, to hell with everything! Steve wasn't much for crying but Kate had a good cry while cursing the insensitive bastard who called himself a doctor. It felt good and by the time the tears ended I had recovered my composure; the only problem was what to do about the mess on my face.

I hadn't been in the woman's world long enough to keep a box of tissues in the pickup, but I managed to find a couple of fairly clean napkins from the last trip through the McDonald's drive through. Didn't help much, but the black streaks down my cheeks disappeared. I did what I could with the supplies in my purse, but you could still tell I had been crying.

When I got home I damn near rear ended Bernie's van. What was he doing in our driveway? The last thing I needed now was to have him see me looking like a complete wreck! I almost put the car in reverse but before I could make up my mind there he was, coming down the walkway. Too late! I just got out of the car and stood there, there was no energy left to do anything else.

The goddess bless Bernie! He took one look at me and surrounded me with a big hug, holding me tight as I broke down in tears again. He stroked my back and I was aware of a low murmur. In my state the words were meaningless but the tone spoke directly to my heart.

"What are you doing here, Bernie?" I finally asked.

"Performing the typically masculine role of being a source of strength and comfort for a woman in need."

"The bastard shrink I just saw wouldn't agree about the woman part!"

"Then screw him! There are lots of other shrinks in the world, find one that isn't a bastard."

"After this one I don't know. How can I find one that isn't a bastard?"

"Hey kid, how would you go about hiring a caterer if you weren't almost related to the finest caterer in the state?"

"Jeez - how would I know?" I sniffed. "I've never thrown a party bigger than a keg and a package of hot dogs."

"Not even a salad? Philistine!"

"No - college student. When I was a student we wouldn't have been caught dead eating healthy!"

"I take your point. Well then, what would you do, Ms. College Professor, when you need the aid of a professional?"

"I guess I'd ask around, maybe do a little research on the topic."

"Bingo! I take it you failed to research the psychiatrist of whom you speak so disparagingly?"

"Uh, yeah." I admitted sheepishly."

"You know, I've had clients that did everything but hire a private detective before they hired me, yet you go roaring off to some unknown bozo, a bozo who holds your new life in his hands, without so much as checking his credentials?"

"Sounds pretty stupid when you put it that way."

"Mamma told me there were times to keep my mouth shut. This may be one of them."

He was right, but I was enveloped in another hug that took the sting out of his message.

OK, so now that I'm writing this all down I have a bit of perspective, but back then I was devastated. I had no idea how easily I had made the transition into femininity, how little resistance I had encountered. Sure my Internet research made me aware of the stories of many others who took a similar path, but I hadn't really absorbed the pain and anguish inherent in those stories. I hadn't gone through the years of self doubt, the constant need to put up a false face for the world while crying inside.

In the few months that Kate had been around I had been almost exclusively surrounded by supportive and positive people like Bernie, who knew very well I was born a male but was unselfconsciously holding me in his arms like the woman I was becoming. In this rural area I didn't have to worry about neighbors discovering anything. With the exception of Deb I had not encountered any resistance.

There is a theory that the explosion of allergies among children is caused by our overly clean and disinfected society. Their young immune systems are not challenged by the bugs and germs that we were evolved to encounter, so the immune system never develops properly. My defenses for the transition had not really been challenged, so when I ran into that bastard shrink I had no idea how to respond, thus the tears.

"So maybe it would be a good idea if you did a little research? Find some other people who share your, um, proclivities? From what I've seen on line there's an active transgender 'community' out there."

"My lord, you even know the jargon!"

"If there's one thing I've learned in business, you better know your market or you end up broke."

"Or at least broken hearted. So what are you really here for?" I asked.

"Well, the girls are doing the invitations for the wedding we were planning to pick cherries before your little bombshell, if you remember."

"Huh? Didn't we do that at the Pie Festival?"

"Those were sweet cherries. Now it's the end of sour cherry season - the ones you use to bake pies and such."

"I'm afraid such subtleties were not included in my culinary upbringing."

"Like those hot dogs, I take it. And since we have been engaged to cater your wedding it seemed like a good idea to stop by and talk about what you two want."

"Well, right now I want to change out of these clothes and get myself cleaned up."

A wonderfully practical idea.

---

Practical! After meeting with that jerk I wanted to put on the frilliest, most feminine clothes I owned, along with the sexiest lingerie and shoes with about a 12" heel. Feminine, dammit! Not Practical! Problem was, from my foray at the Pie Festival I knew I was going to be covered in red cherry juice before long. Reluctantly, I changed into an older pair of jeans with a few paint splotches and a T-shirt, not neglecting my padded panty to give the jeans some shape. I removed the lacy bra and donned one that wouldn't look ridiculous under the T-shirt.

I scrubbed my ravaged face and applied some minimal makeup in an attempt to hide the blotchiness from my crying jag. Hurrying to join the family at the van I found Steph's sister Lucy riding shotgun while I found myself seated next to 10 year old Ben for the short drive to Hurd Orchards. His 15 year old sister Karen sat in the back seat with Stephanie. Why is it when a 10 year old looks at you that closely you get a sinking feeling in your stomach?

"Hi Aunt Kate," he offered.

"Hi yourself, Ben."

"You got paint on your pants."

"I've been painting. I'm a lousy painter and I drip a lot."

"Can I help? I won't drip anything!"

"Ben, old buddy, you can have the whole job if you want it."

"Cool! Can I help Aunt Kate, Dad?"

"Child labor is illegal in this state - for anyone but the kid's parents, that is."

"Awww Dad!"

"We'll see. I suspect the results may not be worth the effort."

"As long as it's not my effort, I don't care!"

"Wait a minute!" Stephanie cried. "This is my house you're talking about. Do I get a say?"

"I haven't noticed a paint brush in your hand lately."

"I manage, you work. It's called division of labor."

"So I'm subcontracting. You're hired, Ben."

"Really?"

"Really. You can paint the lattice under the porch while I do the gingerbread on top."

"How much do I get paid?"

"Paid? Who said anything about pay? I thought you wanted to be nice to your old Aunties."

"Hey Dad - I need an agent. You want 10 percent for the job?"

"You got yourself an agent, son."

"Some father you are, eating 10 percent of the coconut-almond cookies I was going to bake for him. You ought to be ashamed!"

"Business is business. Now, about hours - I think he should remain on the premises for at least the next four days or until the job is done. Lucy and I need a vacation."

"On second thought, maybe I should do the job myself."

"Before you entrepreneurial geniuses dig yourself too deep a hole," Stephanie reminded us, "remember we have to get the cherries done before we do any painting. Besides, we're here."

We pulled up to the quaint sales area in front of the massive old barn. Bernie went in and came out with several buckets. A quick trip down the road, a left turn and then a right into the woods and we were at the cherry orchard.

As we got out of the car I whispered to Steph "How do you tell if they're ripe?"

"With sour cherries they get a translucent look when they're ready. The whole tree usually ripens at once, so don't worry - just pick!"

"I'm more familiar with sour grapes, thank you!"

"Look, just because my nephew got an agent, you don't have to cry about it."

"Cry?" I laughed, "That kid's going to be rich some day. 'Ten percent' my rear end!"

"Sorry, I have 100% of your rear end - agent or no agent."

"Even if only 80% of it is me and the rest is padded panty?"

"I like your rear end better when your panties are off. You can wear your bra, though, I think it's sexy when you make love to me with it on."

"Let's change the subject or I'm going to be embarrassed in front of family."

"We can always go a few more trees over and do something about that, you know."

"Damn! I knew I should have worn a skirt. Both of us. Let me take a rain check or before Bernie starts to get suspicious.

"Spoilsport. You can lick the cherry juice off me when we're finished."

"Deal!"

With the six of us it didn't take long to fill the containers with cherries. We returned to have the bounty weighed and paid for. Being such a lovely day we bought some of the home baked sweetbread and some drinks, then sat at one of the picnic tables to eat. There were a few sweet cherries left at the very top of the trees, so Ben swarmed up and picked them. Very nice with the baked goodies.

It didn't take long for me to drop a cherry on my jeans, which left a bright red mark along with the paint splotches.

"Nice pattern, Aunt Kate! Commented Karen. "A work of art! You going to decorate your bridal gown like that?

"Just one of my many talents, child. The gown came pre-embroidered so I think I'll leave it as it came."

Maybe it was reaction to my earlier despair, maybe it was the ebullient company of family, but I found myself feeling almost giddy. I took the offending cherry and gave it a squeeze, drawing a line on my jeans to extend the 'artwork'.

"Cool! Can I try?" asked Ben.

"For a small fee, you mercenary child."

"How much you asking?"

"A bite of the sweetbread you hogged!"

"Done!"

I took a bite of the sweetbread and soon found myself a canvas for the artistic talents of Ben and Karen. My jeans were soon covered with artistically applied cherry juice. It was sticky on the way home, but Stephanie was able to help me clean it off when the family left. Nothing like snacking in bed to improve the day!

---

There's nothing like working in the house and garden to take your mind off disappointment. That is unless you're weeding, that provides too much time to think about your troubles. So I got out the pruning shears and attacked the bushes, amazing how a little hacking and destruction will serve to release your frustration. When I ran out of bushes I mowed the lawn, not an inconsiderable task with 2.2 acres. Then there was edging the drive, painting the porch and other necessary tasks when you own a house, or at least live with someone who owns a house. Being a tenant was much less work but living with the landlord had its perks.

Do you realize how ridiculous I felt putting on my panties and stuffing my bra, then putting on Steve's oldest and most disreputable T-shirt and jeans to paint the porch? Even if a glance in the mirror revealed the unmistakable bulge of breasts beneath my T-shirt? In a shameless bid for a little more femininity I tied a kerchief over my head to keep the paint drops from my hair. It didn't help when Stephanie collapsed in laughter when she saw me come out of the barn with a bucket of paint in one hand and a brush in the other. Where the heck was the goddess that assured me of my femininity in the woods just days before?

So what if I was wearing dangly earrings? Is that so comical, I ask you? Don't real woman dress practically for a messy job? Would you wear a skirt and then climb up a ladder to paint the gingerbread trim along the porch roof? Am I any less feminine splotched with green paint?

Dammit, stop laughing!

Actually, the concentration of covering all those little spindles evenly with paint was just what the doctor ordered while waiting to see what the doctor would order. After an few minutes up on the ladder I was reminded that having breasts could be a challenge. Just as it had taken me a little while to avoid bumping them on doorframes and such when I first got my forms, now I had to learn how to avoid mashing them on the rungs of the ladder or catching them as I leaned out to get the brush just a little farther out so I didn't have to climb down and move the ladder again.

My concentration was broken by the sound of a car coming up the driveway, not that it would have taken much to distract me from the fussy, boring task at hand. I couldn't see who it was from my perch atop the ladder, but I heard the car door open. The idea of a stranger seeing me like this wasn't very appealing. I finished the last couple of spindles within reach and descended the ladder to see who was there.

I know it wouldn't have done me any good, but I should have stayed up on the ladder. For that matter I should have stayed in bed, for standing before me, shaking his head in consternation, was Carl Santos, the Dean of the English Department. What the hell was he doing in my driveway?

I won't say time stood still, but it did wobble a bit. How long it quivered I couldn't say because if time was off kilter how could I guess how long it stayed that way? I know it was long enough to succumb to a flash of guilt, reject any guilt at being who I am, then be utterly embarrassed for being dressed like a refugee from an explosion in a paint factory.

Shaking his head the Dean muttered "Jesus Christ in the garden! Maybe she wasn't a lunatic after all!"

"Then I guess that leaves the job open for me." I answered. "I must say I never expected you to be dropping by during the summer."

"Obviously. I must say I never expected to meet you under these conditions, either. A very disturbed woman came to the school yesterday claiming that you were a sexual pervert who was trying to corrupt her children. She raised quite a fuss and demanded to speak to the 'man in charge' about a professor who was insulting women by pretending to be one. Just my luck I'd decided to spend the morning going over paperwork and was there to be harassed, so I got stuck talking to her."

"Let me guess - perfect hair, perfect makeup, tailored suit and pickle face. Deborah Petrillo by name."

"You know her?"

"An inevitable and regrettable side effect of falling in love. She will be my sister-in-law in a few months. She doesn't much approve of the me."

"And I thought I'd heard understatement before…. His voice faded out like a 1950s rock & roll song. With a shake he continued "Hands-on administrator that I am, I decided to come to see you to find out what's going on."

"Which clarified the problem but doesn't help you very much. I had really intended to go through formal channels to notify the college of my gender transition."

"And I should have taken that vacation to New Zealand but, no, I had to stay and work. Christ, Steve, do you know how much paperwork you're going to cause me?"

"I have a stack of papers of my own and keep getting new forms every time I see another professional. I had hoped to have my paperwork in order before creating headaches for you."

"What the hell? Paperwork creates headaches, it doesn't cure them. I don't suppose you'd consider transferring to the Dance Department or something?"

"I only got her to dance with me in public once. Fat chance she'd dance at a recital or anything public."

Stephanie had arrived.

"Come up on the porch and sit down, no sense standing on the blacktop in the sun." she offered. I'm Stephanie Petrillo and she's Kate. It's my brother that married the pickle puss.

"Pleased to meet you, Stephanie. Carl Santos, resident curmudgeon and dean of English if I survive this latest, ahem, challenge. Forgive me if I take a rain check on whether I'm pleased to meet you, Kate.

"Come on Carl," Stephanie answered, "nobody, except maybe me, is 'pleased' that Steve has let Kate come out, but thank you for the thought. After all the trouble Deb has caused in the last few weeks I'm not surprised she's still at it. So how much difficulty has she caused at the college?"

"Other than making me spend half an hour listening to her invective and prejudices? She seems to have bypassed the administration and gone directly to the English department. When she claimed Steve was gay, running around in dresses and was going to corrupt her daughter when she became a student at the college I was skeptical enough to come to see for myself before things got out of hand."

"Well, at least I'm not currently wearing a dress, but once I finish painting that's going to change."

"You certainly aren't going to grace the cover of Cosmo any time soon. You did have some of us wondering about after the school break, but no one thought something like this was coming. You're not the guy we knew any more!"

"I don't feel much like that guy, either. I'm afraid I'm going to be testing the college's commitment to diversity as soon as I can convince the powers-that-be that Kate is real and she has the papers to prove it.. Of course without tenure all you have to do is not renew my contract and I'm history, but that won't stop me."

After the adventures of the last couple of weeks I had gotten pretty good at recounting my journey to femininity and once again had a chance to hone my storytelling skills. At this rate maybe I should make the Dean happy and transfer to the theater department so I would be able to put these refined skills to better use! In any case, I gave him the abridged version of the Ballad of Kate.

"Cripes, you don't do things halfway, do you?" was his reply.

Actually I fully intended to 'do things halfway' and keep my male genitalia but live as a woman with real breasts, but I wasn't going to go into that much detail with my Dean.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing well, Sir. "

"I suppose that even considering your current — ahem — casual dress, my eyes tell me I'm sitting here with two women, your presentation in a professional situation should be acceptable."

"I intend to dress and act properly for the situation, sir."

"Indeed. I fear that no matter how well you present yourself there will be considerable juicy gossip in the corridors. You're taking quite a chance, Kate. Your performance on the job has been quite up to the standards I expect and your students seem to like you, but…."

I hadn't intended to say anything until a psychiatrist has had time to evaluate me and, I hope, make my transgender status official. Did it constitute 'grasping as straws' to hope I could speed up the transition given the Dean's seeming acceptance?

"Forgive me for asking a personal question, Kate, but do you really want to be a woman for the rest of your life?"

"Without any doubt, sir. As much trouble as it will cause, I think the effort is worth it. I will try to work with you and the administration to make the transition as smooth as possible. I realize this is going to put considerable strain on you, sir, and do not wish to make it any more difficult than necessary."

"I'm going to have to consult the Engineering Department to see if they can provide a dispensation from the intervention of Mr. Murphy. Oh, and enough with the 'sirs' already. You've never struck me as a brownnoser.

"Ok, Carl. The situation seemed to call for some formality."

"Give me a few days to ruminate on this. While I am head of the department, there will be quite a few others that will have to concur before we can come to terms.

"I can sympathize. I've found that even the gods themselves can't speed up a bureaucracy. If there's one thing bureaucracies love it's official paperwork and I have to jump through the proper hoops to convince the godlike beings that control our destiny, known as gender therapists, of what I already know."

"Speaking of therapists, I've been talking with Andy in the counseling department, he would be a good resource in explaining things to our colleagues. He's also a very calming influence. I intend to return as Ms. Tucker this fall if the gods are willing and I don't get fired. I suppose for the wedding I'll have to revert to Steve, but that will be the last time."

"Wait a minute!" cried Stephanie. Who told you I'm marrying Steve? I want Kate at my side and no one else!"

"Well, I suppose if you can clean up this red haired hoyden and put her in a dress instead of these rags it might work."

To my utter disbelief Dean Santos had a shit eating grin on his face. He was having entirely too much fun!

"Of course you might have a time convincing the preacher that the marriage is legal since our dysfunctional legislators are still playing politics with the gay marriage laws in New York. Have to rewrite the 'man and wife' bit in the ceremony too."

"I protest! I'll have you know that as an Associate Professor of the English Language I am perfectly capable of writing a ceremony that avoids such stereotypical gender references. Besides, a two bride ceremony is one way to keep Deb from attending and making a scene."

"And two brides won't cause a scene?" the Dean inquired innocently.

Innocent. Right!

"Want to be one of my bridesmaids, Carl? That should shift the attention from me."

While I have been blessed with a slim and relatively neutral body that makes it possible to look like Kate as well as feel like Kate, the Dean was hairy as a gorilla and as shaped like one as well.

"Nah, I don't much care for pastels and flowers and such. Rather go fishing, myself."

"Well, keep the date open, you're invited to watch the show."

Pulling his PDA from his pocket he asked "What date would that be?"

"Well, we haven't set a date yet."

"Then there's no time like the present," Stephanie interjected. "Let me get the calendar."

She was gone in an instant, leaving me to stare at my bemused Academic Leader and wonder what the hell was happening!"

"Lady seems to know her own mind, doesn't she?" he commented.

"Especially as far as me being a lady."

"And you don't have any doubts?" he asked

"Oddly enough, I don't. I don't want to get all mystic or anything, but this is where I was meant to go in my life. The revelation happened late, but it happened and nothing can take me back to where I was before."

"Well, I suppose you still qualify as crazy, that hasn't changed. I recall your previous self extolling the virtues of camping and hiking and swimming and such?

"You see the trailer over there?" I pointed. "We only stopped here for a week to tend the garden and do some chores. You're lucky you found us home at all. We head out Sunday for Niagara Falls."

"I'd hardly consider being dropped into the middle of a sex change drama lucky."

At that point Steph returned with the kitchen calendar.

"I suppose we should get married before school starts again, that way if you get fired you can get health coverage through me. Mom will be royally pissed with only a month to plan a wedding, but I'm not going to sweat it."

Back when I was a kid the family once went to an amusement park. My friend had talked me into going on something called the Wild Mouse. It was a compact roller coaster with very small cars that fit into a couple of trucks for transport. It was several stories tall - in my memory it was higher than the Empire State Building, but I'm biased - and didn't look so bad from the outside, but once I was on that sucker I was scared shitless.

Those cars moved fast! At every bend I felt like the Wile E Coyote , hanging in midair after he chased the Road Runner off the cliff. My stomach stayed behind every time that damned car made a 90 degree turn without slowing down one bit. I screamed and cried and begged but nothing helped, I just kept getting whipped around those corners until I got to the bottom of the maze. Then the infernal thing kept right on going and did it all again! Is it any wonder I haven't had any contact with my friend in years?

Why do I digress? Because right then I felt like I was back on that ride heading toward a sign that read 'JUST MARRIED'. The wedding had been off in some nebulous future until just a few seconds ago, now it was staring me in the face.

"Well, let's see…" mused Stephanie. "We have the few days in Niagara Falls. Hey! I bet we can find a couple of wedding dresses somewhere in the Honeymoon City, so we kill two birds with one vacation. Which brings us to July 21st for your gender therapist's appointment. We can still spend a few days in the Thousand Islands with Alex and Kristen. Then we can stay home a few days with Mom so she can release her inner wedding planner and we can take care of the place."

"We can really piss her off by going to see the Frank Lloyd Wright houses on the weekend of August 12th, but we better spend the next week here because there is always something to go wrong at the last minute. What do you say we get married on Saturday August 20th, so you can go back to school as Mrs. Tucker on Tuesday. Let's hope Bernie hasn't got anything booked for the catering. No time for a honeymoon after the wedding, so we can do it ahead of time next week in the Falls. Think that would work, Honey?"

Remember the Wild Mouse? Did I mention that I puked all over the little car about halfway through the ride. I was trying to spare your sensibilities, dear reader. Forget that now, my stomach was doing flip flops at Stephanie's rapid fire recital. I was distracted by the Dean's bearlike laughter.

"Kate, if you could see your face…" He couldn't get anything more out for the belly laugh that followed.

"Stephanie, have you lost your mind? How can Bernie cater the wedding when he's going to be my Maid of Honor?"

The Dean dissolved into another cluster of belly laughs.

"Seriously, Steph, can we pull it off that fast?"

"Why not, as long as we keep Mother out of most of the planning. I went through the huge wedding scene the first time around and it cost me a decade of heartbreak and trouble. I don't want this to be any more complicated than a dinner party. This time I'm old enough to realize that the wedding isn't as important as the marriage."

"That's a thought that should be engraved on the wedding license." Carl offered ferverently.

"Which brings up the question: who is going to be willing to marry us. We may be technically legal in New York, but it could be touchy finding someone to perform the ceremony."

"What about Alex and Kristen's minister? From the way they talk he seems to be pretty open minded."

"Why not just find a Justice of the Peace and avoid the religious part. Neither of us is very religious, after all."

"I'd really rather a civil ceremony, I've had enough of churches to last a lifetime but there's Mother."

"Got to be blessed by the Great Father in order to be real, eh?

"Don't be sarcastic, Kate. We need to keep peace in the family. Just being yourself has caused enough turmoil."

"Then let's talk to Alex first, OK?"

"Second. Lucy is first if I want to avoid sororicide."

"My dear," put in the Dean, "have your considered that the both of you will need at least a few days in your schedule to prepare for the fall semester?"

We seemed to have forgotten the Dean was listening to all of this.

"Oh damn. We may have to forget about the Thousand Islands?"

"Maybe we can just do Five Hundred Islands to save time?" I asked.

"Speaking of time, you do realize the catalog and course schedule have already been sent to the printers and you will be listed as Stephen Tucker. Even if we can get the powers-that-be to accept your sudden new persona your students will be an issue."

"I expected that, Carl. More than a few will be returning from last year. I have been rehearsing my class greetings in my head for some time now. I can take the heat if it doesn't cause the college too much notoriety."

"Well, we've had transgendered students before, so it's not like the faculty hasn't had some experience, but I fear some of our colleagues will be challenged by your lifestyle. School policy or no, people will talk and there's sure to be some nasty talk."

"I've also been practicing 'quiet dignity' in my head as well. I fully intend to greet my colleagues with civility and calm explanations. At least there are handicapped facilities nearby so I won't have to cope with the bathroom issue."

"Good Lord! I never thought of that. Marge would have a fit if…."

"So she would. She still may, but I hope that we can prepare the faculty for my arrival and make it clear that I am just another professor doing her job."

"St — Kate, I don't want to loose your services, especially so close to the start of the semester. I don't understand why you want to do this, but I don't need to understand — other than my own curiosity. As an administrator I am committed to providing the best learning environment for our students. If you meet those standards I will do everything in my power to make sure you have the opportunity to live and work in the way you see fit."

"Thank you, Carl. Sometime when you've had time to digest all this I would be glad to sit down and talk about why I want to live as a woman. Maybe I can find a way to make it seem to make sense."

"That ought to be an interesting conversation! After a public sex change and a wedding, a quiet conversation ought to be a relaxing change. And I do look foreword to attending the wedding. A two bride ceremony will be a first for me. Thinking back to my own wedding, I can't imagine how two brides could possibly agree on all the details without causing a premature divorce!"

"Simple." Stephanie responded. "We keep it simple. It will to be a small wedding, nothing fancy. We limit the guest list to family and friends, keep my mother in the dark until a few days before the ceremony, have Bernie put up the tent we used for the Pie Festival and get married right here so we don't have to rent a hall. Like I said, Mom will be upset, but it's our wedding."

"As long as Bernie's Uncle Shimon gets invited. The whole thing's a joke and he has to be included."

"As long as you invite Cliff from the college. He and Uncle Shimon seemed to get along and they can be the entertainment!" Stephanie laughed.

"I'm afraid Cliff is in Zimbabwe or Timbuktu or some such place on sabbatical." Carl told us.

"Damn! I guess we'll just have to learn some bad jokes and fend for ourselves."

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Hi Lucy, it's Steph. - Great, we're just about to take off for Niagara Falls. - Look, Lucy, are you booked for August 20th? - Saturday? Wonderful! Kate and I just set the date - Saturday, August 20.

Stephanie was forced to hold the cell phone about three feet from her ear until her sister calmed down.

"………."

(That's a much longer pause than a '…'). I could almost understand Lucy as she shouted into her phone.

"Shrimp, Lucy, we have to have shrimp. Anything else is gravy. You know what I mean. Invitations? Yeah, I guess we have to send them out right away. Right, tomorrow. You going to help? Tell Karen she needs to look pretty, Kate needs some bridesmaids."

The conversation continued for quite a bit longer, but it won't advance the plot so I won't report it. The Dean and I grinned at each other, there being enough of Steve in me to appreciate the irony of the bride rushing a wedding. The Dean ostentatiously added the date to his PDA and stood. To my surprise he enveloped me in a bear hug and spoke his congratulations. How had I thought I hadn't any friends when I reviewed my life? My nebulous goddess must be watching over me to bring people like Dean Santos into my life as Kate.

---

The next morning I awoke a determined woman. Yes, woman! Before the day was through I was going to find a gender therapist of some kind to set my official transition in motion. I fired up the computer and started searching. I posted queries on several transgender boards, asking for recommendations in my area. That done, I was distracted by one of those targeted ads. Now, normally I can ignore the annoying things, but this one said: "Male Breast Augmentation" in big red letters.

Male Breast Augmentation.

Yeah, I was interested, so I broke my rule about ignoring come-on ads and clicked. I should have known better. It was one of those places selling a miracle cream that would give you real boobs without surgery. If that stuff worked there would be a few million women with watermelons where their breasts were supposed to reside.

Still… I typed the phrase into Google and was rewarded with a few thousand sites. Most of them were still for women, but there was that guy who got them for a bet in the late nineties. Still had them, as far as I could tell from the net.

To my surprise, there were several sites with some very carefully worded suggestions that they would do such surgery for men who wanted them for career purposes. 'Career Purposes' Could that be a nice way to say CD stripper or maybe CD prostitute?

So- I wouldn't necessarily need a psychiatrist's permission to have real breasts!

Then again, the college might take some convincing to let me stay employed. Still, it was nice to know I had options.

---

"Anything to declare?"

Do you realize just how hard it is to ignore that straight line? The trim young man at the Canadian border had probably heard about every possible smartass answer to that question so I valiantly replied with a simple "No". Besides, I was feeling rather disoriented since for the border crossing I had to match the photo on my license. Why did it feel like I was impersonating Steve instead of reverting to the personality I had lived under for my entire life?

As we pulled away from the crossing I muttered "Just a few minutes and I can be myself! How did I live almost all my life without realizing that Kate was who I really was?"

"I suppose you can't miss something unless you've experienced it first."

"I was almost afraid they would bust me for impersonation back there. Which way do we go - the signs are confusing as hell."

"Follow the signs for the 420 and don't hit any of the crazy people in the way."

"Why do tourists seem to think they can run out into the streets and not get hit? Where did they all come from?"

"They raise them in hatcheries then release them each summer so RV drivers will have something to target."

"Do I need a special license?"

"Nah, just a good lawyer if you hit one. There, just keep going three miles and we should find the campground."

"Hardly seems like there could be enough open country only three miles away for a campground."

"The place isn't that big. There are still working farms within walking distance of the falls if you like a moderate hike."

"Do tourists hike?"

"Think of the Rockies - they hike there. Don't miss the turn."

"Hey! I only winged that tourist. Do I have to track him down and make a clean kill?"

"Too small - throw him back."

"That's fishing - you changed sports."

"Be a sport and find the campground, OK?"

"Right there. You go in and register while I hide my inconveniently male body from view. I really hate playing these games, you know."

"Me too. Lets hope you can convince the therapist you should be Kate full time."

"Hallelujah! Amen to that!"

"You aren't going to go all religious on me?

"The Hell I am! Get us registered so I can get out of these clothes!

---

For the last three months I have started each day by putting a bra around my body and become so accustomed to the act that it has become second nature, done unthinkingly on autopilot. So how is it that after spending the last three and a half hours without one I could find so much pleasure in strapping myself into a bra again? Time and again on the drive from the house to the campground I found myself feeling out of place, in the wrong body.

I know it had to be done to get across the border, but it almost hurt. Settling my forms into place I once again swore that the second I got some kind of official paper that let me continue working as Kate I would schedule augmentation surgery.

Since the day was warm and sunny I opted for a tank top and floral skirt with open toed sandals. I hoped it wouldn't mark me for a tourist, but it felt like the right costume for wandering around the falls. We didn't do much more than disconnect the trailer from the pickup and set the stabilizer jacks, not even bothering to set up the outside of the trailer. I was in too much of a hurry to see the fabled falls.

With the windows rolled down and the AC turned off, we cruised to the downtown area, then headed south, following the signs to the bus lot. OK, it's more like we crawled, there was a lot of traffic. The city planners had come up with a wonderful idea - tour busses that ran continuously to all the main attractions at the falls. One price, get on and off as much as you like and no trying to find a parking spot at $20 or so a pop. I think this is called encouraging public transportation.

There was no problem deciding where to go first - I wanted to gawk at the water! Stephanie had assured me that the best view was from the Canadian side, which is why all the identity switching and she was right. How can I describe it? There's an awful lot of water. It roars, it foams, it mists, it rains. The water fills your entire field of vision and rattles your eardrums. If you're in the right place you see rainbows. If you're in the wrong place you get soaked to the skin.

Having grown up nearby, Stephanie was used to this wonder. Nonetheless, we stood there with arms around each other staring at the spectacle. Magnificent!

But even the most impressive things in life eventually become commonplace, something my experience in becoming Kate illustrates nicely. At some point my eyes unlocked from the water and began to look at the other sights. There were hordes of people around us, all milling and pointing and laughing. There were stereotypical groups of Japanese taking pictures of everything in sight. There was a group of teenagers in matching t-shirts cavorting by the railings. Babies in strollers, backpacks and slings, toddlers toting teddy bears, adults toting overpriced junk from the souvenir shops, wheelchairs, skateboards and lord knows what else.

Nobody gave a second glance to the two women walking along holding hands and grinning. Once I could tear my eyes away from the falls themselves, I noticed a boatload of people in bright blue slickers heading toward the falls. The Maid of the Mist according to the signs.

"Stephanie, we have to ride on that boat!" I babbled.

"Tourist!"

"Yeah! Let me get a Hawaiian shirt and a camera at the gift shop while you get the tickets."

"You wear a Hawaiian shirt with that skirt and you'll need a bag over your head, not a camera."

"I don't care. I want to ride that boat!"

"We will, darling, but If you want to get close to the falls let's do the cave tour first. You can practically touch the falls."

"Cool!"

"Wet! You're going to get your pretty sandals soaked."

"Who cares? Let's go!"

Stephanie, knowing the landscape well, led me to a wonderfully ornate old building where we were willingly fleeced by purchasing the all-you-can fit-in-attractions-pass so we could ride boats and cable cars and busses and I don't know what else. The wait in line was mercifully short line, this being a weekday. We were issued bright yellow slickers made out of the thinnest plastic they could get away with, then went down 150 feet (the college kids stewarding the parties of tourists were full of information) to the tunnels.

Dank, dark, creepy tunnels; Edgar Allen Poe would have loved them. To quote the kid guiding our little group: 'At Journey Behind the Falls, you'll experience the awesome spectacle of one-fifth of the world's fresh water crashing down 13 stories to the basin below. Every second during summer daylight hours, over 2,800 cubic meters of water thunders over the rim at 65 kilometers per hour.'

'Your Journey Behind the Falls visit will take 30 to 45 minutes. In the spring and summer months, you'll receive a free souvenir biodegradable rain poncho as protection from the mist of the Falls. Elevators descend 150 feet through bedrock to tunnels that lead and to the Cataract Portal and the Great Falls Portal which is one third of the way behind the massive sheet of water, then on to the Upper and Lower Observation Decks at the foot of the Falls.'

OK, it's a stilted tourist spiel but it's accurate. We got soaked, our skirts hung like limp rags around our legs and any hair that escaped the alleged raincoat was limp as an overcooked noodle. I made Stephanie go back the next day so we could do it again!

It took us three days to see everything. My skirt was drenched over and over as I got near the falls, but I loved it. I had a butterfly land on my breast at the conservatory, walked endless rows of brilliant flowers and bushes at the Royal Botanical Society, saw the great hydropower plants and hit every stinking tourist trap that Stephanie would allow.

I never thought I'd want to cut a vacation short, but we did so I could take another try at seeing a shrink. I once more disguised myself as Steve to cross the border. If you ever get to the Falls, be sure to find John's Flaming Hearth on the US side — amazing food and hospitality, as well as a parking lot big enough so the real me could emerge from the trailer in short order.

---

"You look pensive this morning, Kate." Stephanie observed.

"Wouldn't you be. I want to see the psychiatrist and get things rolling, but after the last time… I'll to try again, but I do feel a bit like one of my students shopping around for a class from an easy professor, though."

"Call it comparison shopping. Wise consumers research a major purchase."

"You sound like your brother. Why didn't I think of asking some of the people I've met on line before I saw that jerk? When I mentioned his name my computer practically fried from the flames that came back!"

"I hope that Dr. Gallis will turn out to be more understanding."

"The folks on line think so. Funny how I trust their judgment even though I've never met any of them."

"Ah, the digital age of friendship. Floating in cyberspace with just you and your 937 closest friends - none of whom you have ever met in person!"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't met any other transgendered types in person. Odd being in a community when you've never met anyone except through a keyboard."

"Much easier to maintain the illusion that way, isn't it?"

"So it is! I'm just starting to realize how lucky I am to have a body that lets me cross the line between male and female so easily."

"Which makes me a very lucky woman. I love you, Kate."

"I love you too, you crazy woman. Without you I would never have found the real me."

"Just keep that thought in mind when you see Dr Gallis. Kate is the real you."

Much to my relief, Dr Gallis did see the real me. Even with time out for all the paperwork, our first meeting went very well. I'm not going to say much more than that because the conversations was much like that I had with Andy. If you are a sucker for details, go back and read it over and just substitute 'Jean' for 'Andy'. It seems my luck had changed, because I was able to make a regular weekly appointment with her for the next several weeks.

---

"Good afternoon, Kate."

"Good afternoon, Doctor Gallis." I replied.

"Since you came back for a second visit I take it you wish to continue working with me on your transition. Please call me Jean."

"Thank you, Jean. I think you may be the right person to guide me through the bureaucracy of a gender change."

"That's an odd way to put it. I hate to generalize, but most of my patients are far more concerned with understanding why they have a desire to change gender and need help convincing themselves they are doing the right thing. Fear and guilt are a standard part of the mix, but you seem to have bypassed the guilt phase entirely."

"I suppose I have. Should I work on trying to feel guilty so I do things right?"

The doctor laughed. "Perhaps your well developed sense of the absurd is what enabled you to make so unusual a transition." Becoming more serious she continued, "Could it be that since you only plan an outward transition to femininity while remaining genitally male you need not make a complete commitment?"

"Yeah, men do seem to have a problem with commitment, but I don't think that's a factor here. Let me tell you how this all happened."

I outlined how the trauma in Stephanie's life had left her disgusted with men and how an accident with a manure pile had started me down the road to crossdressing and finally wishing to assume a feminine role permanently. Oddly enough I found myself consciously stealing from Uncle Shimon as I related the funny parts of the story and Jean obligingly laughed in all the proper places. I described my conscious decision to learn to be as feminine as possible for Stephanie and then the gradual realization that Kate was the real me and how I no longer wanted to return to being Stephen.

"Remarkable, Kate." She said when I had finished. "I don't think I have ever dealt with anything like this before. Well, There's an old adage that when you can't grasp the entire situation you should work on the parts you can understand and leave the rest for later. Since I'm a shrink, let's talk about sex - that's what we shrinks do best."

I had to laugh. "You don't happen to do standup in your spare time. That sounds like the start of a bad joke."

"I don't think I know enough profanity to make it in standup. So how do you reconcile your wish to remain male for sex but present as female the rest of the time?"

"I'm not sure that, other than the actual penetration, my approach to sex is all that masculine. It didn't take me long to figure out that the porno film version of sex, where the guy pumps away for hours on end while the woman screams in pleasure was pure bullshit. In fact, I have never once seen a porn film where the guy does what I've found women like the best. To be honest, I haven't ever brought a woman to climax with my penis, I just don't have the stamina."

"I haven't heard many men be that honest about sex, Kate."

"It's a lot easier to lie about sex than it is to learn how to be good at it. I was lucky in that my first lover was experienced and taught me how to pleasure her before I came in. She was an expert at taking me to the edge, then showing me what took her to the edge. She liked it slow and taught me how to stretch things out. I wasn't much more than a horny kid but she taught me to think of my lover before myself. Funny thing is that attitude makes it much better for me, too."

"Perhaps you are on the right track. I take it you have had several lovers?"

"Four. There won't be any more, either. Stephanie is the last one I'll need."

"Please don't think I'm being prurient, but how would you describe sex with Stephanie?"

"Since I'm here to talk about gender and sex, I rather expected the question. We never really went through that first rush of urgent need, she was pretty fragile when we got to know each other. I usually play with her until she comes, then she plays with me and eventually we finish with vaginal intercourse. That sounds too clinical - but it works for us."

"Do you have sex while you're wearing women's clothes?"

"Not often, we both prefer no clothes at all when we make love. If my forms are glued on we won't take time to remove them or if we happen to be wearing gartered stockings they may stay on, but that's about it."

"Do either of you have any trouble reaching climax without the clothes?"

"None at all."

"Thank you, Kate. You've been remarkable open about something that is very private."

"Hiding anything from you would be a unproductive. You need the facts in order to be able to come to an informed conclusion. When we're done with this I hope you will agree that an official transition is in my best interest and if you think otherwise than I need to do some hard thinking myself."

"We'll have to end there, your time's up. Next time we'll explore your feminine feelings in more detail."

"Thank you, Jean. I'll set up an appointment with your receptionist."

---

Why is it that just as things get to be interesting the damned doorbell rings? I had just finished demonstrating that I retained enough male finesse to unhook Stephanie's bra with one hand when a cursed clatter arose.

"Is the door locked?"

"Damned if I know."

"Then put those fingers on my nipples and we'll just ignore it."

"Does my tongue count?"

"One. Two. Three. Four."

"ANYBODY HOME?"

"Damn, the door isn't locked! Do me up quick! HELLO MOTHER!"

Why is it easier to snap your own bra on then one on your attempted lover?"

"STEPHANIE, WHY WON'T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE?"

"Can you live with one hook?"

"If it means that mother won't find you laying on top of me and fondling my breasts then I can live with it."

"Life in the fast lane"

By the time Hilda had made it to the living room we were presentable, if you ignored the little bulge on Stephanie's back where her bra held on by one hook.

"Stephanie, how could you set a date with out telling me!"

"Well, I just got the calendar and put a big red circle on it at random. Nothing easier!"

"STEPHANIE!"

"Relax, Mom. We were going to tell you before it was too late."

"How can I relax? My daughter is getting married! It has to be perfect!"

"It will be, after all I'm marrying Kate, so what could go wrong?"

(I refuse to try to reproduce the sound Hilda made. It contained to no known phonemes found in any human language.)

"Mother, it will be a small wedding, just family and friends, in our back yard. We have a genuine Methodist minister to do the ceremony so it will be perfectly legal even if there are two brides. Bernie and Lucy have the food under control and we found our dresses in Niagara Falls last week."

"You found your dresses?"

"White and frilly with a nice train to chug on behind. It's a shame that Kate doesn't have her own cleavage yet, so we had to go with high necklines, but they're beautiful."

"Oh my god! How could you?"

"Mother, I've done this before, if you remember. All the fancy crap in the world couldn't keep the marriage together. This one will have a simple ceremony and last until we die."

"But the bridesmaids? The flowers?"

"Lucy is mine and Alex is Kate's" No fancy dresses, they can wear something they already have. The flowers will come from the gardens. What more could you want?

"Not another one!"

"No, Alex is springing for a tux, but he's a bridesmaid since we don't have a groom."

"Where did I fail? How could you be so…. so… sensible!

"By being a fool for most of my life. It made me appreciate how much simpler and more satisfying it is to do things the right way!"

"It's times like this I should be Jewish, not Catholic! Jewish mothers have earned the right to scream 'Oi Vey!' at the top of their lungs! You're marrying a man who wants to be a woman with only a month to plan a wedding - without consulting your poor, dear mother I might add - and you talk of simple?"

"Well, when you put it that way…."

"Stephanie, darling, I love you'll but you drive me crazy!"

"How could we tell the difference when I succeed?"

Again, the limits of language make it impossible to reproduce Hilda's reply.

"Mother! Small, simple and relaxed. Damn, I wish I could think of another 's' word so I can chant it whenever you get excited."

"Stressless?" I offered.

"You keep out of this!" they replied simultaneously.

"Well, at least you agree on one thing. I'm going to contemplate the tranquility of the garden."

Thus, I am unable to provide details of the negotiations as I could only hear the occasional exclamation from my seat in the garden. Hilda was looking frazzled by the end of the conversation, but Stephanie is a remarkably determined woman. The wedding would occur to her plans and no one else's.

Including mine, I assume.

---

I’m sure you’ve all done it — meeting someone interesting and promising to keep in touch, then putting off the phone call or letter and getting caught up in the daily barrage of things that just HAVE to be done. The days turn into weeks and into years and you never end up seeing them again.

That didn't happen with Alex and Kristen. We did keep in touch after meeting them in Allegany. We even had them over for dinner the week after we returned, when Kristen got the prints of her vacation pictures. A small miracle happened and she found the scrap of paper where we had written our phone number down and she called.

Having noticed from our time together that neither Alex or Kristen were enthusiastic cooks, Stephanie invited them to dinner at our place. It was a delightful evening, the first time we had entertained as a couple. (Not counting family, that is.) By unspoken, mutual consent we spent the evening retelling tales of our misspent youth, memorable students, quirky cars and camping disasters, completely ignoring the recent drama.

At the end of the evening we actually got out our calendars and made a date to spend some time in the Thousand Islands together and to visit two of the Frank Lloyd Wright houses within driving distance. Alex being a freelancer and Kristen an art teacher, they had the flexibility to join us on our trip.

Our friendship was growing. Kristen was the first one Stephanie told when we (she?) set the date for the wedding. By chance, Alex had called the evening of my disastrous meeting with that bastard of a shrink, fortunately calling after we were done cleaning up the cherry juice. Alex is the kind of guy you can talk to, so I vented while he politely encouraged me to get my feelings out. I felt much better after he had let me run on. Friends like that were priceless!

Friends? The guy with no friends had become the girl with at least two good friends. Amazing! Not only were we friends, but we were going with them to the Thousand Islands to meet another couple who were their best friends.

Sunday morning found us sitting at the Victor entrance to the Thruway, waiting for Alex and Kristen, that being a convenient place for us to meet. As our friendship grew we would find that they were never on time for anything, but we all have their flaws. In time their old VW camper came chugging up behind us and we were off.

I'm sure you have all known a fanatic or two in your time. They seem like perfectly normal people until you hit their passion, then you can't get away from it. These people go to extraordinary lengths to satisfy their obsessions, kind of like those of us males who are convinced we should live life as women even if we weren't born that way.

Alex and Kristen loved VW campers. They had just poured about five grand into a new engine for the thirty year old vehicle, but it still spewed unburned gas from the exhaust, overheated regularly and came down with the chilblains on a regular basis. I do believe they had spent about as much money keeping it running as we had spent to buy our perfectly serviceable trailer. Well, I was going to have to spend gobs of money on medical professionals — plastic surgeons and psychiatrists - to keep me running. At least insurance covered some of it and when I was done my body wouldn't rust out!

They took our kidding in good spirits, however, and off we trundled down the Thruway. Stephanie did get rather frustrated, though. The ancient camper did not have cruise control, so Steph was constantly fiddling with the buttons on the steering wheel, trying to stay a constant distance behind the VW. Finally, in exasperation she turned the cruise control off and drove the old fashioned way. After a few hours of stopping at every other rest station to pick up some coffee or to dispose of the previous cup we arrived at Wellesley Island State Park.

Stephanie had used the Internet to reserve a wooded site next to their friends on the St. Lawrence river. Kris and Alex fit the VW in by their friend's popup trailer while we pulled in and set up camp, pausing rather frequently to watch the boats go by. Lucy the golden retriever wasted no time, she was in the river before we had the trailer unhitched form the pickup.

"Shira! Come back here!" came a cry from the next campsite. A white ball of fluff came streaking by, heading for Lucy. The ball of fluff was barking furiously as she followed Lucy into the water and in short order the two old friends were cavorting in joy.

Moments later our neighbor appeared. He was a big man, six feet or so, with an enormous beer belly covered with the brightest tie-die shirt I had ever seen. I later found out he was a teetotaler, so it would be more accurate to call it too much food belly, but that doesn't have the same ring. With his long, dark hair and bushy grey beard he just screamed 'aging hippie'.

"Howdy, folks. Looks like you've already met Shira, the World's Dumbest Dog. I'm Ralph."

So we exchanged names and we were introduced to his wife Judy and father-in-law Al.

"Nice camper!" Ralph went on. "Judy and I are hoping to get something like it when we retire so we can tour the country. We intend to visit every folk festival we can find, then park in our kid's driveways and let them support us in our old age."

Well, Alex had warned us that his friends were folk fanatics. The four of them started talking about music, leaving us to talk with Al.

"So Al, Alex tells me you're a fisherman" I said to be polite.

"My wife and I used to come up here for vacations when Judy was little, but I haven't been up here in years. Judy and her crazy husband think it's fun to go camping and talked me into coming with them."

"What kind of boat do you have, Al? Stephanie's eyes were shining in anticipation. Was there something I should know about her that I hadn't learned?

"A 26 foot Star Cruiser. Bought it a few years ago when we came into a little money. It's not as much fun now that Sara's passed on, but I still enjoy going out on the water. Judy goes with me sometimes, but her husband is a wimp, turns green and pukes just when we get up to speed. You ladies like to go fishing?"

"Damn! I don't have any tackle." Groaned Stephanie.

"I have an extra rod. Judy isn't much for fishing, she just likes to ride along and keep me company."

"Can we really come out with you?"

"Sure, if you don't mind a crotchety old man for company."

"You're not that old, Al."

"I'll be 83 in a couple of weeks. That old enough for you?"

"Ummm, Steph…" I murmured. "You need to rethink this 'we' stuff."

"What?"

"I think I'll stay on shore and keep Ralph company. We seem to have a similar opinion of small boats."

"Kate, you've got to be kidding!"

"Things that move in funny directions do not agree with me. It would be unladylike to describe what they do, so just trust me."

"You poor thing. I guess I'll have to rely on Al to escort me."

"You don't mind dating an older man?"

"Not one with a great big Johnson. That would be just effin' rude"

Steph told me later that's an old joke among fishermen. Fortunately neither Al nor I got it at the time. If you still don't get it, Johnson and Evenrude are two major makers of outboard motors.

"When are we going? I need time to get a temporary fishing license."

"Bright and early tomorrow morning, that's when they're biting."

"Good. I saw something at the registration building about fishing licenses. We'll have to check."

"To quote Tonto when he and the Lone Ranger were surrounded by Indians, 'What your mean we, kemo sabe?' I intend to stay on dry land"

"Then you get the grill ready and have the salad made while we procure the main course."

"Pretty confidant, aren't you. Don't count your fish before they're hatched."

"That's chickens, darling. Fish are too small to eat when they're just hatched."

Before things could deteriorate any further, we were joined by our musical friends. Ralph laughed when he heard about Stephanie's eagerness to go fishing."

"Did Dad warn you that he aims that infernal craft at every bump and hole in the water he can find? The one time I went out with him I think I put dents in the hull where I was hanging on for dear life. He took us into Irondequoit bay and crossed every damn wake there was. Then, when he got to the end of the bay he just slammed the boat into a U-turn and left my stomach somewhere off to the port or starboard or whatever you call the right side of a boat."

"You looked very cute crawling on to the dock and kissing the land." put in Judy.

"And I'm never going off the land again on anything smaller than the Titanic."

"The Titanic sunk, sweetie."

"At least it was a faster death than seasickness in that little dingy! The whole idea of a vacation is to relax and I'm not going to do that in a boat. Kate, maybe we can go for a walk with Lucy and Shira while they fish."

"Sounds like a good idea to me."

"Maybe we'll tire her out enough she won't bark at everything she sees."

"Who wants to take a trip into town so I can get a fishing license?" broke in Stephanie. "Anybody else want to go shopping?"

It shouldn't come as a surprise that the men stayed at camp while we women went into town.

---

I know I've said this before, but morning comes too damn early. In fact, morning had not come but the fisherpersons were up and active when the sun was just a pink glow above the horizon. Since Ralph had invited us for breakfast at his trailer I couldn't even complain about having to cook. Having learned from experience that Kris and Alex were always late we paused only to beat on the door of the VW camper and encourage them to come out before walking across the trees to our neighbors.

Some people take their camp cooking seriously and Ralph was one of them. There was a pot of coffee burbling on the small stove hooked to the side of the popup camper. On the table next to it was a gas grill with an oversize fry pan on top where the bacon was sizzling. On the two burner gas stove was there were honest-to-god potato latkes frying in oil. Next to that was a camp oven (he wasn't using that quite yet) and even a small refrigerator.

The table was set with brightly colored china plates, the real thing, not paper, and everything was lit by several CFL lamps hooked to the EZ-up. How in blazes did they fit all that stuff in a tent trailer?

Ralph stood there, flipper in hand, with a big green apron emblazoned with the words 'Alleghaney State Park', 'Bear Belly' and the image of a bear. Considering the size of his own belly it was certainly appropriate.

"Good morning, ladies. The coffee's ready and there's orange juice in the fridge."

"You've been to Allegany, too?" Stephanie asked.

"Love the place! We try to spend at least a week there every year."

"We were just there a few weeks ago. That's where we met Kris and Alex."

"Not only beautiful, but with impeccable taste in campsites, too. Good thing I'm married or I would have to ask one of you for a date."

"Good thing we're about to get married so you'll be disappointed." I put my arm possessively around Stephanie.

"Congratulations. Since were having latkes I'll add a Mazel Tov as well."

"With bacon? Isn't that sacrilegious?"

"Who cares? I'm a Jew by marriage and an atheist by disposition. I love mixing ethnic cuisines to see what happens."

"Hopefully not a lightning bolt from j-w-h. That would burn the bacon."

"Well, you know how those ancient gods love their burnt offerings."

"I can't believe this setup! Do you do this all the time?"

"More or less. Depends on how long we're going to stay. It takes a lot of time to set up and break down. Since we have company I decided to go full out this morning."

"But real china?"

"Got them for fifty cents apiece late last fall when the shops in town were trying to get rid of their summer inventory. Cheaper than paper plates!"

About then Alex came over sniffing mightily. Holding his hands foreword in the classic zombie shuffle he began to intone "Bacon… Bacon… Bacon…"

"Grab a piece and I'll put on the eggs." offered Ralph.

How is it that we got to meet such interesting people this summer? Despite the ungodly hour the table talk was spirited and filled with puns and laughter. I had the feeling the Judy and Ralph were going to be good friends, especially since they were friends of Alex and Kristen. They were completely accepting of Stephanie and me as a couple. I wasn't sure about Al, he didn't say much but seemed to enjoy the company.

When breakfast was over the intrepid fishermen went off to fish and I found myself helping Ralph with the dishes. We talked about this and that, shared recipes and a couple of funny stories.

"I always have a bit of a twinge when I visit the Thousand Islands," he started. "When I was a kid my family camped in a popup, but that one had only one wheel on it so it was easy to back up. We were almost to our campsite in the Thousand Islands when my brother's hat blew out the window of the car, so my dad stopped and backed up to get it."

"Unfortunately he hit a pothole and the wheel snapped off the trailer and we were stuck there. We got towed and spent the night camping in a field next to a gas station while they waited for parts to fix it. We got to the park and for the next thirteen days straight it rained. Picture five kids and two adults in the mud for two weeks and you have one memorable vacation.."

"Your poor parents!"

"Yeah, I guess they were in line for sainthood by the end of that vacation. But that's not the worst of it. By the time we hit Rochester the wheel broke down again and we had to leave the trailer in a friend's backyard while we went home to Buffalo. My dad found a new wheel and we came back the next weekend and put it on, then headed home. We got about five miles when the new wheel died. We found out it wasn't made for high speed travel and the bearings burned out. That time we left the trailer in a schoolyard just off the new expressway."

"Ouch!"

"Well, I was about twelve, so it was a great adventure, but I don't think my dad looked at it that way."

"I never got to do anything like that, I was an only child."

"There were times I wished I was an only child. Siblings can be a pain!"

"Being alone can be a pain, too. I always wished I had a brother or sister to play with."

"That's the human condition - never satisfied with what you have."

"So it seems. What are we going to do with whatever fish they catch?" I asked.

"I was thinking Trout a la Nero Wolfe. Assuming it's a trout, that is. Otherwise Whatever a la Nero Wolfe."

"Really? I've always appreciated Rex Stout, but I've always wondered if his last name inspired Nero's girth."

"Well, as one who approaches Nero's seventh of a ton myself, I feel a duty to carry on his cuisine."

"Somehow I don't think you would find Nero Wolfe in a setting like this."

"Not exactly a brownstone in New York City, is it? Not even a rock in the middle of a pasture, for that matter. I suppose he did occasionally have to rough it, but he ended up in well appointed cabins, not tents."

"Other than that trip to the Black Mountain."

"That was an anomaly in the series, wasn't it? Yet his character stayed true despite the exotic setting."

"Funny how much the character can affect the story. Did you ever read the Tecumseh Fox novel Stout rewrote with Wolf and Archie? Identical story, but it worked much better with Wolf. I think it was the byplay between Wolf and Archie that made the plot come alive."

"I think I've found another fan!"

"I've even used several of Stout's books when I teach American Literature."

"That's right, you mentioned you were at Brockport last night, didn't you. My first wife, my daughter and Judy all got their degrees there. Every last one of them got involved in Social Work."

"My apologies, you must have enough understanding and concern in your life to drive you crazy."

"Already there, but the coincidences keep adding up, don't they?

"So they do. My life has become a string of coincidences this year. Brockport is a great school. I just hope I can keep teaching there."

"Oh?"

Damn! I had gotten so involved in the conversation I had let slip something I should have kept to myself.

"Ummm. Could I ask you to forget I said that?"

"Did you just say something?"

"Yeah, the weather's lovely this time of year."

"Ain't it, though - or don't you English Professor types approve of 'ain't'?"

"Colloquial speech, sir. My own teachers had hissy fits about using it, but it's become part of the language. Sort of like 'fart'. These days everyone uses it and nobody gets too upset. Even two year olds!"

"Especially two year olds. Potty training is the big thing these days. I have a grandson around that age and it's his favorite word. If my mother were alive she'd be in high dudgeon at the very thought. The world has changed a lot since I was a kid."

"I suppose it has, but not always for the better."

"Not really. The same stupid stuff goes on through the ages but people will always be doing the same stupid stuff. Society, I think, has advanced some since I was a young whippersnapper. I doubt you've ever worried much about nuclear annihilation or hidden under your school desk for protection from The Bomb. Most Americans don't have to worry about living in a Police State despite the best efforts of Bush and his wackos. For that matter I can tell a perfect stranger like you that Bush is a wacko and not worry about you being an informer."

"Most of society has enough to eat, decent medical care is available (but I am starting to wonder about that). If you have a skin color darker than mine you're no longer are officially segregated and you can vote. Massachusetts just got smart and approved same sex marriage and the world hasn't ended. Hell, most people can tell you what 'LGBT' means these days even if they still don't approve. Small steps, but overall a better world than the one I was born into."

"I never thought of it like that."

"Well, you look to be only a couple of years older than my kids, so you're going to get to see a different set of changes. I suppose you and Stephanie could be the beneficiaries of Massachusetts enlightenment someday soon."

Damn again! How did we get back on the subject?

"The wedding's set for three weeks from now. It gets kind of complicated but we'll be legal."

"And damn sure ought to be! I'm confident that sometime before I kick off I'll get to see sexual orientation and gender dysphoria treated as just one more aspect of being human and not the work of the devil. Enough philosophy! Let me get my walking stick and we can take the dogs for a walk."

If you disregarded the belly, he could have been Gandalph with his bushy beard and tall walking stick, although I doubt Gandalph's staff had a train whistle carved into the top of it

---

The day was warming up nicely as we walked the dogs. The trails were lovely and the dogs ran great, joyous circles around us as we hiked. I was grateful for the cooling effect of the woods, because my breast forms had started to become sticky and annoying as the day warmed. Once again I wished I had real breasts so I could wear a tank top to keep cool. The gauzy, ruffled blouse and skirt were very pretty, but the sun made them a bit uncomfortable.

There is a joy in walking through the woods in a skirt that I never would have guessed at before I found Kate. I've always loved hiking, but once again I felt my goddess touch me as I walked in the natural beauty of the woodland. It wasn't until we were well along the trial that it occurred to me that I was walking alone in the woods with a man I had met less than 24 hours ago. I guess there was still enough male in me that I had never even considered the vulnerability of a woman in this position before we set off.

Still, I wasn't worried. Ralph seemed to be a good man even if I didn't really know him. There were a couple of spots where he had gallantly offered me a handhold, but had immediately released his grip when I was on firm ground. Our conversation was simple and varied with no hint of an ulterior motive. Besides, he was almost old enough to be my father and it was blindingly obvious that he and Judy were deeply in love.

Not that such hadn't stopped some men from making asses out of themselves, but Ralph wasn't one of them. Suddenly the serenity was shattered by an electronic beeping. Ralph's cell phone still worked even in the woods, it appeared.

"Hello? … How's the fishing? … Great! … I can't cook the one that got away, you know. … We'll head back. I've thrown you over for a younger woman, you know. Kate and I are canoodling in the woods along with the dogs. … Canodles, knadles, knishes, you're Jewish you should know. … Knishes and fishes? Why not? … I love you, my little dumpling. Try not to let Dad hit the dock."

"We have a pike, two bass and a trout. I hope you're feeling hungry, Kate."

"I will be by the time we get back and I'll have you know I do not canoodle with strange men."

"Well, you won't find a stranger man than I am."

"You might be surprised. What was that other stuff you were talking about?"

"Oh… knadles are dumplings and knishes are a kind of Jewish puff pastry. Maybe I ought to make some tonight. I should have all the ingredients."

"Just like that? In a camp kitchen?"

"It's just flour and eggs and onion and potatoes. Boil some potatoes, make a pastry, then stuff the pastry with the potatoes. Time consuming because I can only bake four at a time, but fun."

"We have an oven in the camper if you want to use it."

"Shall we make dinner together, then?"

"As long as we're talking knadles and not canoodles we can cook and let the others wash the dishes."

"Now that's my kind of woman!"

If only he knew!

---

Lunch was delicious. Ralph was a great cook and I seemed to be almost as compatible in the kitchen with him as I was with Stephanie. We threw together a quick pasta salad while the fish grilled. If you haven't had Trout a la Nero Wolfe, you bake the fish whole with onion, brown sugar, Worcestershire sauce and sliced ham wrapped in aluminum foil.

When we finished we did make the others do the dishes, too. Then the subject of swimming came up. When we were in Allegany I had been very frustrated by not being able to wear a swim suit, so I had searched the Internet for a one piece swimsuit that had a skirt and a neckline high enough to hide my forms. Believe me, it wasn't an easy task!

Women's swimsuits are made to display as much flesh as possible and that was simply not going to work for me until I had my augmentation surgery. I had finally found something that looked like it might work and hauled out the credit card to pay for it. Don't ask how much, it wasn't cheap. Despite the premium price it was available only in black. Did Henry Ford design swimsuits? The only problem was I was nervous about wearing it in public.

"Kate, you know you look perfectly fine in that suit." encouraged Stephanie.

"That's easy for you to say. It's not so easy to wear. Gaff, padded panties and glued on forms, although it's pretty neat to have breasts without having a bra on."

"Yeah, I think so."

"But you come factory equipped, I feel like Charlie Brown in his winter coat even before I put the suit on."

"We must suffer for beauty, it is a woman's lot in life."

"That sounds like a quote, but I don't want to know who said it."

"Then I won't tell you its from my mother. Put your gaff on before I get distracted and make it impossible to wear your suit."

"Fine by me, darling!"

"No time now. Come to bed early tonight and we'll see what happens."

So I poked and tucked and tied myself in and put on the suit."

"Very nice, your boobs look like the real thing, darling."

"But you get to have cleavage. I want cleavage, dammit!"

"All in good time. Be patient."

"I want to be a patient and have the surgery, not be patient."

"So go ahead and call the doctor. Set a date, already."

"Dr. Gallis has to give me my papers first."

"Papers are for training puppies. You said there are surgeons who will do augmentation surgery without the bureaucratic bullshit. You don't ever intend to go back to being Stephen, do you?"

"No, I don't think I could do it any more."

"Then do it!"

"But what if the college won't let me teach as Kate?"

"Then we live on my salary until you find a job."

"But could I find a job?"

"I don't know. How much are you willing to risk? Could Kate be happy as a tutor? You know Bernie and Lucy think enough of you to have you be part of the catering business if the college screws you. Is it worth learning to say 'Do you want fries with that?' to have breasts?"

"I don't know. Sometimes it scares me, Steph."

"Good, it should! You know and I know you've made up your mind, but we are going to be in for some difficult times in order for you to be who you want to be. Dean Carl seems to have a positive attitude, most of my family loves you and I love you. If you really want to have breasts then get them!"

"You make it seem so simple."

"Not at all, but until you make the decision you can't act on it."

"You're right. I want to make Kate permanent. When we get back I'll call that practice in New York and see if they'll do it."

"After doing a thorough check on them. Remember that first bastard of a psychiatrist. You don't want to meet his brother the surgeon!"

"Too right!"

There, that's settled. Now, let's go swimming."

I still felt like Charlie Brown, but I had to do this sometime, didn't I?"

---

The rest of our time in the Thousand Islands flew by. Once I got used to being outdoors in a swimsuit I enjoyed the experience despite the padding. I was glad the padding was silicone, foam rubber would have made me into a human sponge. 'Mommy, why is the lady squirting water out her bottom?' Wet breast forms are not a pleasant experience, however.

The six of us became fast friends for the duration. I spent quite a bit of time with Ralph as everyone but us enjoyed putting up and down the river and Al was very happy to have company. For a self described grumpy old man he was pretty sociable.

Was it because I was born a man that Ralph and I could forge a friendship that had nothing to do with our ostensible sexes? Neither Stephanie or his wife had any concerns about how much time we spent together. We shared a number of interests and enjoyed our talks together while the others were out boating.

He and Judy had just started producing a series of folk music concerts and I learned more about the music than you could believe. Another fanatic for a friend, we seemed to attract them. In order to do a concert they had to haul a lot of heavy sound out of their basement, load it into the van and take it to the hall. Once it was set up they waited to see if enough people showed up and bought tickets to pay the bills, then reversed the process at the end of the show. Why did they do it? They loved the music and all the effort was worth it.

I suppose the same could be said about my need to become Kate full time.

The morning of our last day there we were once again together waiting for the fishermen to return.

"You wouldn't be getting tired of fish for lunch, would you, Kate?"

"You don't suppose they could catch a roast beef out there, do you?"

"The Yorkshire pudding would get soggy if they did. It's been fun getting to know you and Stephanie, I'm glad Alex and Kris introduced us. I hope we won't loose touch."

"Steph and I talked it over last night and would like to invite you and Judy to our wedding. It's going to be small, just family and a few friends, but you've become friends this week."

"Why that's very flattering. When is the wedding - if I don't write it down I'll never remember."

"August 20th at our place in Brockport. We'll give you an invitation before you leave."

"Thank you so much. It will be a pleasure to see you two get married." He paused. "Uh, Kate?"

"Yes?"

"I've been trying to think of a way to ask you a question without offending you…."

"Then just ask it. I don't think you could offend me."

"Let's hope. Kate, are you in transition?"

I took a deep breath and screwed up my courage. "Yes. See, you didn't offend me, but I am curious as to how you figured it out."

"Let's just say I didn't have to hire Nero Wolfe to do the detecting. Your presentation is just about flawless and I'm jealous, dammit. It was the little things - your swimsuit that covered all of your breasts, a casual remark here and there once you begun to trust me; but when you said you and Stephanie were getting married legally there is only one way that can happen in New York. One of you had to have been born male.

"It does add up, doesn't it?"

"Well, if it had been Stephanie who was in transition I would have felt like a complete ass. Remember when we talked about LGBT and the future?"

"Of course."

"Well, I'm the 'T'. I drew the wrong body to go out in public, but what the heck? I write stories about how things ought to be and dress up in private. Have you ever visited Fictionmania?"

"Once in a while. Most of the stuff there is a little too X rated for my taste."

"But there is some very readable stuff there. I feel a little nervous pointing out my writing to an English Professor, but I'm known as Ricky there."

"You're the one that just wrote The Dress Code?"

"Guilty as charged, your honor. I started out writing porn when I was alone after the divorce and eventually found I could write about things besides sex. Who knows, I might use your story as inspiration and you'll see it up there some day."

"You've got to be kidding! I can't be all that interesting."

"You will be by the time I get done remaking you, not that I mean to lay a bad trip on you. Christ, there I go sounding like an old hippie."

"Hey - you look like an old hippie so why not sound like one?"

"Because I'm a nerd and a couple of years too young to have been a genuine hippie. By the time I was out of my parent's house the real hippies were on the wane. Drove my folks nuts with long hair and wire rim glasses, though."

"I guess you haven't changed that much, then."

"More belly, arthritis and a whole list of crap involved with getting old. It’s a pitiful thing to listen us aging hippies sitting around, trading symptoms and comparing specialists. The older I get the more I'm turning into my father!"

"And you'd rather turn into your mother?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a magic wand with you?"

"Sorry, I forgot to pack it."

"That's OK, she wouldn't have approved anyway."

"I doubt mine would have, either."

"Like Dylan said, the times they are a changin'. Sadly, sometimes you have to wait for the older generation to die off to make progress."

"Which lets the younger generation make different mistakes."

"A wise woman. If you guys have kids make them smart ones."

"Get thee behind me, Satan! We're too old to raise babies. Besides, Stephanie had her tubes tied long ago. We just raise students to be our surrogate children."

"At least you can give them back when they get annoying. I tried to give mine away for years but couldn't find any takers. Had to marry them off to get rid of them."

"Don’t be mean! I'm sure your children are good people."

"A necessary evil to gain grandchildren. Have I shown you the pictures yet?"

"The first night at the campfire."

"See, old age! I'm going senile."

"Not if you could outperform Sherlock Holmes in assembling the little clues to realize what I am. Not that too many people will have to resort to logic when I come back to school as Kate."

"Transitioning on the job? That takes chutzpah, Kate. I hate to be negative but my ex has a friend who did so and she just moved to Seattle because her employer harassed her so badly despite the written tolerance policy. She couldn't even go to the government for help because she worked for the government."

"I suppose I work for the government too, since it’s a state school. My dean seems positive but nothing is certain."

"Let me give you my ex's name and number. She deals mostly with disability issues but is hell on wheels when anybody tries to discriminate unfairly. That's a joke because she's in a power wheelchair these days. I know she still has contacts with the Brockport faculty."

"Wait a minute - you're that friendly with your ex that she would help someone for you?"

"I've had the great good fortune to marry two women who not only tolerate my crossdressing, but enjoy each other's company. Eventually my ex and I couldn't live together, but she is a good woman and a good friend. She's even spent a couple of nights in the camper with Judy and me when her tent had problems."

"Good lord!"

"Well, she is born again. Maybe that plays into it."

"If you guys can pull off such a miracle I guess transitioning on the job ought to be simple in comparison."

"Apples and Oranges, Kate. The college will probably be full of bologna for someone with melons and a salami, if you catch my drift. Tread carefully, my friend."

"I always tread carefully in high heels. Does Judy know?"

"I just figured it out for sure when you told me the wedding was going to be in Brockport."

"It's OK if you tell her, I don't want you to keep secrets from her I'll have to tell you the story of how Alex and Kris found out."

"They know, too?"

"We have time until the intrepid water warriors return, so sit down and let me tell you a story…"

Somehow leaving camp the next morning felt almost like leaving home, but Dr. Gallis, or rather Jean, would be waiting for my afternoon appointment the next day.

---

"Hello, Kate. So, anything new to tell me this week?"

"It's been a busy week, Jean. We've acquired another couple who are fast becoming friends, for one thing." I told her about Ralph & Judy, but you already know that story.

What do you think of the ease which Kate seems to make friends compared to how Steve did so?"

"I'm not sure I understand it, but I think it has to do with liking myself more so I have more attention to give to other people. The other part may be simply the more feminine attitude I have discovered. Falling in love is another big part of it."

"So you didn't like Steve?"

"No, that's too strong. More like indifference. Steve was just me, I had no basis for comparison. I actively like the person I have become as Kate."

"No regrets?"

"None. Not even seeing a shrink and talking about my sex life. So, we covered sex last time. Do we do violence this session?"

"Violence? Somehow I can't picture a woman like you being associated with violence."

"Sex and violence are as American as Apple Pie. You should see some of the literary battles I've been in - it would make your blood run cold."

"So, then you think the pen is mightier than the sword?"

"Absolutely. Skewers as effectively as a rapier but far less blood."

"Not a particularly feminine outlook, is it?"

"You've never been to a sale on Black Friday, I take it."

"Psychiatrists are supposed to be dowdy - we don't follow fashion. You couldn't get me within a hundred yards of one of those sales."

"Then I think we have agreement on at least one aspect of femininity."

"So tell me, as one born male what do you consider feminine?"

"We've only got an hour, Jean."

"Asking open questions helps to pad the bill. Why don't you take a stab at it."

"I thought we had gone beyond violence. Femininity? Openness, caring, empathy, grace."

"Interesting your first response should be about the emotional, and the word 'grace' has a distinct religious overtone. I've come to understand religion doesn't play a large role in your life."

"Not traditional religion, but there's something that happened to me a while back that has changed my feelings a bit." I told her of my experience in the woods of Allegany where I felt the goddess speak to me. I don't think there is a literal intelligence somewhere out there that spoke to me, but the overwhelming sense of peace and certainty in my feminine nature is as close to a religious experience as I have ever come. Since then it seems that circumstances keep affirming my femininity. I know my logical friends would say it's confirmation bias, or perhaps retrofitting incidents to fit the way I want things to come out, but I do sense a presence of some sort that leads me to living as a woman.

"Most interesting. I am always unsure when religion comes into these conversations. I'm scientifically trained , but I have my own beliefs as well. It can be hard to keep my beliefs from coloring my responses to another's religious experience."

"I think calling it a religious experience may be too strong, but I have no other frame of reference. I appreciate your honesty about your beliefs, Whatever happened, I knew from that point on that the path was irreversible."

"Indeed. What about the physical part of femininity?"

"I like the freedom, the sensuality of the clothes, the balance of a woman's body. I find myself drawn to breasts and wishing I had them. I can get a taste of what they feel like when I have my forms glued on, but I long to have real breasts. I hope you don't take this wrong, but I have decided to schedule augmentation surgery as soon as I can find a slot. No matter what happens I am going to be Kate for the rest of my life and I want to be able to wear clothes without worrying about showing my forms."

"And what happens if, after we have explored your feelings and options more completely, I can't support your transition?"

"I would be very disappointed but I would have the surgery anyway. Talking to you has helped to clarify my own thoughts in ways I hadn't anticipated, and I know that you could very well find my decision to live as a woman abrupt, but I have to be true to myself. I am in the fortunate position of being able to take an unusual path to femininity and intend to do so."

"Indeed!"

"You're starting to sound like Andy."

"Andy?"

One of the school counselors who I talked to when I realized Kate was really who I was."

"Well, we are taught to encourage the patient to keep talking and 'indeed' is a good word for that."

"Indeed!"

"Indubitably. There are other words to use, you know. I think we should come back to this aspect later. What I was trying to get at was presenting as a female while remaining a functional male. That's a very unusual path for a transsexual to take. I realize that many do not have genital surgery because of the cost, but that doesn't apply here. You have declined to take hormones in part to retain your ability to function as a male in the sex act. I think we need to explore this aspect more fully."

"The way I see it is that I use my penis for a few minutes maybe a couple of times a week and Stephanie likes it when I do. The rest of the time it's irrelevant. I don't even bother with a gaff most of the time since a woman my age can't do justice to mini skirts and tight dresses. You may have noticed I'm partial to full skirts and loose fashions."

"So how do you cope with the 'gallant reflex'?"

"Never had one. I never could understand the whole concept of getting hard by looking at someone on the street. It doesn't work that way for me. Reading a racy passage in a book or having Stephanie tease me works every time, but I don't get erections unless I'm in a situation where one is called for."

"Interesting. Did you experience erections when you started to wear women's clothes?"

"A couple of times. They didn't last long as I was concentrating on other things so it wasn't anything major. From my research on the net I wasn't surprised when they happened."

"You actually researched crossdressing before you started?"

"Not exactly before, but once I realized both Stephanie and I were enjoying it. I suppose it's the academic in me after a lifetime of haunting libraries. I wanted to do the best job I could so I spent hours on line searching for advice and information from people who crossdressed. Once I set my filters to remove the porn there was quite a large on line community to draw from."

"You don't like the tranny porn?"

"Well, some of it was interesting and I couldn't help but look, but it wasn't helping me create a feminine image or understand what I wanted to accomplish. In fact, it was a bit disheartening to see some of the beautiful women who still had penises. I suppose normal women might feel less than perfect when looking at a female porn star as well."

"You seem to be highly focused on your goals. That is traditionally a masculine trait."

"I suppose, but most of the traditionally masculine traits seem to be human traits that are denied to women by various cultures. My female colleagues seldom conform to those traditions yet are clearly feminine. I don't intend to let such traditions define me any more than they do."

"So you're a feminist."

"Damn right! Always have been and proud of it!"

"Whoa, girl. Get off your soapbox and back on the couch."

"Sorry, I get carried away sometimes."

"Don't we all? Lets look at this from another angle. Tell me what you don't consider feminine."

"Extremes - emaciated models, massive enhanced breasts, silly fashions, obsessive makeup, towering heels, bling by the pound. I could never understand the 'if some is good more is better' philosophy. Aristotle had it right - moderation in all things. You think if he had it figured out all those thousands of years ago we could get it right after all this time!"

"Did Steve have the same philosophy when he saw a fashion model?"

"Pretty much. I've always been more interested in the inner person rather than the exterior presentation. Not that I don't appreciate a good looking woman, far from it, but superficiality is not on my agenda."

"There are those that would consider your decision to live as a woman superficial since you can never fully become female. How will you cope with that?"

"How are they going to tell? I don't intend to go around informing people about my genitalia."

"That's not quite what I was getting at. It's generally well known that modern surgical procedures can create the outward appearance of a woman, but a transsexual will never actually be a woman in the sense they can not become mothers."

"Like I said, I don't go by outward appearances. I've come to think I'm a woman on the inside, in my soul. I thought I was going to spend the summer as Kate and then revert to being Steve when the fall semester started, but that's not going to be possible. I'm certain that I am no longer able to be Steve, that Kate is who I really am. Even knowing the trouble that will cause at the school, the notoriety that will come my way, I'm willing to live with it so I can be the person I've become. There's no superficiality involved, it's my core personality we're talking about. No matter what happens I will not go back to being Steve."

"As for motherhood, at my age even biological females would be about out of time for childbearing. I wouldn't want to bring a child into this world at this stage of my life; too much chance of not being there to see them through to adulthood. That's just plain selfish."

"And changing your body to conform to your sudden wish to be something you aren't isn't selfish?"

"My transition doesn't affect innocent parties. I have no family, Stephanie is strongly supportive, as is most of her family. I've come to realize that, for good or evil, I have no close friends that a transition will affect. We don't plan to have children, neither of us want to take that chance.
It may be selfish but it isn't hurting anyone close to me."

"What about the reaction of men to you as a woman? Especially after you have breasts to expose you will have to cope with male sexual attention. How will you handle such situations?"

I have to admit I get a kick out of watching some men lust after my body as long as they are circumspect about it. There's a kind of power there that I never knew as Steve."

"Sex as power?"

"No, not really. I can remember Steve occasionally lusting after a woman and simply enjoying the sight of her body, for that matter I can still appreciate a good looking woman if I'm to be honest with myself. It tickles me that I can inspire that same feeling even if I have no interest in following up. My interest is certainly focused on females, and one female in particular."

"Do you still feel that lust yourself, even when you are fully Kate?"

"On occasion. The funny thing is, when that happens I feel all the more feminine. There is no 'urge to conquer' or masculine imperative to dominate. I enjoy the sight and wish I could have such beauty naturally."

"Will artificial enhancement of your body be enough for you? Could you be satisfied with only having breasts?

"I'm absolutely sure. I've always found a woman's breasts to be fascinating. Maybe the essence of femininity for me. When I was a teenager I wondered what it would be like to have breasts, but I suppose every horny adolescent boy does that. It was never more than one passing thought among many while daydreaming. Now that I've lived as a woman I find it's becoming an obsession."

"How strong? If you were to have augmentation surgery would the next obsession be, say, the desire to nurse a baby?

"Nursing? I think it would be lovely but I realize that medical science isn't there yet and probably won't get there in my lifetime. If I could have been offered a choice of sex when I was born I would unhesitatingly choose female. Too bad John Varley's world in "Steel Beach" isn't real - it would be lovely to change sex at will."

"An interesting concept. Would you want to change back after becoming a woman?"

"I doubt it, but his world they had lifetimes of hundreds of years so they had time to become blasé and change back and forth for novelty. I know I won't become bored with being feminine in my lifetime."

"Feminine but not fully female? Or as close as surgery can come?

"Odd as it must seem, I think that's the right course for me."

"I see. I'm afraid that the clock has caught up with us once again. Next time we need to talk about the legal practical issues of your transition. Your real life test appears to be quite successful thus far, but you have yet to come up against officialdom. What do you intend to do about your employment? There are innumerable places where checking 'M' or 'F' on a form will have consequences. I'll see you next week and we can explore that aspect."

It wasn't until I was pulling out of the parking lot when it hit me. She said 'the legal and practical issues of your transition' like she was assuming it would happen.

---

"Do we have to do this, Kate?'

"We're sitting in a car in the guy's driveway and now you ask?"

"I know Kristen swears he'll work with us, but I'm a little scared."

"Too many memories?"

"In a way. I know all ministers aren't hypocrites, but I've met too many."

The think of your friends the Sisters that rescued you. Did they judge you or tell you that you were going to Hell?"

"No. You're right, I'm just being silly."

"No, you're not. You are applying past experience to future problems. The question is if the experience is relevant to the current problem."

"You've gone into lecture mode, darling. Either that or you're becoming a social worker."

"Heaven forefend! Or whatever home of whichever deity you choose. I'm sure Verne is a perfectly nice man or our friends wouldn't go to his church. If he did the ceremony for Ralph and Judy he must be pretty open. How many Christian ministers will do a ceremony for an atheist and a Jew?"

"None that I've ever known, but it still brings up old memories."

"The keep the new memories we're making firmly in your mind. We have complete control over who performs the ceremony, so if there is any doubt in either of us we find someone else."

"We might not have that many choices. I know mother will be much happier if we have a genuine minister and not some secular judge officiate.

"So we take the chance of being rejected to make your mother happy. Sounds like a good risk to me."

"I love you, Kate. Thanks."

"Nothing I wouldn't do for any of the women I've fallen madly in love with."

"Think Verne will notice a fresh bruise on your padded ass? Just keep it up and you'll find out!"

"I shall behave, my love. My one and only true love. My pure and radiant, exclusi…. Ouch! That wasn't my ass!"

"Easier to reach. Let's go inside before he thinks we're making out in the car."

"Not a bad idea. Want to stop on the way home?"

---

"Come in, come in!" greeted Verne.

"Thank you. I'm Stephanie and this is Kate."

"Welcome. Let's go into my office where we can be comfortable."

His office was simple, desk, comfortable chairs and plenty of books. In one corner was a guitar case."

"It seems wherever we go these days we end up meeting folk musicians. We've enjoyed hearing Alex play around the campfire, and Ralph and Judy told us you even played at their wedding."

"We all have our burdens. Mine is the need to make a joyful noise unto the Lord at times."

"We encourage Kate to just hum along, that way her noise is much more joyful for others. I don't know what the Lord would think."

"I've never been able to read His mind, either."

"That's odd for someone who makes his living telling people what the Lord thinks."

"I don't look at it that way, Stephanie. I read the Bible and offer my opinions and interpretations, but I never claim to know what He's thinking. I've found in a lifetime of being a preacher that reading people is as important as reading the Bible."

"You've just made a joke without realizing it, Verne. Since Alex told me he gave you our background, you know that I'm transgendered. When someone realizes you are a man who looks like a woman we call it 'being read'."

"Interesting. The English language is just loaded with traps for the unwary. I hope I haven't offended you!"

"Not at all. You wouldn't have known the usage and you obviously were using the word in a different context."

"You've gone into lecture mode again, Kate." chided Stephanie.

"Hazard of the profession. I teach English at Brockport.

"A fine school. I've known several people who went there."

"I like it, but I suppose we have to get around to why we came to see you."

"In time, I like to get to know people before discussing business, if you will. In your case I have to admit I've never known anyone who was transgendered, if I'm using the term correctly."

"You are. At the risk of lecturing, it's an umbrella term for anyone whose birth gender doesn't agree with their perceived gender. To add to the confusion, we don't the word 'gender' in the same way as the feminists use it."

I'm sure you don't want to hear the Gender 101 lecture, nor recapitulate our story again, so just assume we told Verne who we were and where we were going.

"Fascinating. The only reference I had before meeting you was what I picked up on the occasional talk show or supermarket tabloid."

"Do ministers spend their time watching talk shows during the week?" Stephanie asked.

"On occasion. We don't only work on Sunday mornings, you know. Even if you're not interested, pop culture has a way of worming its way into your brain."

"Yes, we're all on a first name basis with the stars at the checkouts, aren't we?"

"You may be, but I haven't a clue unless one of my parishioners fills me in."

"I have to rely on my students. Stephanie is lucky, second graders aren't into pop culture."

"You're living in a dream world, Kate. They may be young but all too many of them watch the TV when they should be doing homework."

"In any case, my pop culture idea of a transgendered woman seems to have no connection with the reality, Kate. Even if I've been a bit uncomfortable with the subject, I have enjoyed the conversation. I've had to remind myself that you were a man more than once, until I realized it was an exercise in futility. What's the old adage? If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck?"

"Then the ugly duckling must be a swan."

"I haven't paused to consider the genitalia belonging to anybody else, so why should it be an issue with you? Being human I may fail to live up to that standard, but I don't intend to start asking such foolish questions now."

"So now you know a little about us, are you willing to marry us?"

"Let me take a step back before I answer. You deserve to know a little about me since you've been so open about your life. When Alex called I was in a quandary. My first reaction was not to get involved, but I couldn't just ignore his obvious affection for the two of you. I count Judy and Ralph as friends as well, so when several friends urge me to do something I have to take it seriously."

"I've had occasion to think through my position on same sex marriage, that's part of the age we live in. Frankly, I am not satisfied with the overly simple and mistranslated Biblical view of homosexuality that the talking heads like to spout. I flatter myself that I am enough of a scholar to realize that the Bible has little concrete to say on the subject when you go back and examine what we know of the original text. Because of that, I can't condemn or endorse homosexuality definitively on Biblical grounds. I have come to accept it as one of the many variations we humans possess, neither evil or good in itself.

"However, it is clear that the Bible reserves the sacrament of marriage exclusively to a man and a woman. In my opinion, homosexuality is irrelevant. I wouldn't feel comfortable blessing a same sex union because of how I read the Bible. On the other hand, I cannot conceive of God condemning a union between two souls that are truly in love. I have come to realize I can rejoice in such love even if I cannot personally provide the sacrament of marriage."

"I thought I had come to a working compromise on the subject before I met you. Now you have forced me to find a more nuanced approach. Being ignorant on the subject, I gave a call to a seminary classmate whose flock is in a major city. He has quite a few transgendered people in his care and was able to give me some idea of the issues and how he has dealt with the…" he paused. "I don't want to say problem, but I think you know what I mean."

"So now that I've gotten to know you I can put a human face on what was only abstract. Being human I have to admit to a great curiosity as to why you would wish to live as a woman, Kate, but that's an issue for another day. As much as any outsider can tell from a bit of conversation, it's clear you are in love with each other. That neither of you subscribe to the tenets of my sect is not an issue, marriage is about commitment to each other and that I sense in you. It is a sacrament before God even if you do not believe in that God. Perhaps you will find that Him sometime in the future, but the sacrament is still valid, as would be your marriage."

"The Bible doesn't have a blessed word to say about how you are dressed for the ceremony, so I have no problem officiating as long as the civil authorities issue a valid license. In other words, I hope I can play a part in your having a wonderful life together."

"Thank you , Verne. And we would like to ask you to do us the honor of playing a song at our wedding."

"I'd be honored, ladies. Did you have anything in mind?

"We'll take it on faith that you can find something appropriate."