Or was she? Was Julia right? Was I just the adult equivalent of the "fat friend?" The one who hung around with the pretty girls when they had just been dumped, but who was jettisoned when a guy was in the picture. Maybe Julia was on to something. Maybe, I needed to assert myself as me, rather than doing what Lisa wanted. If she couldn't handle it, then maybe we weren't as good friends as I thought.

When Friday night came around, I decided I was going out, as me. Not as Jessica, me. I got dressed up in my gayest clothes - my tight tank top, my tight Diesel jeans and my boots.
I heard a knock on my door. When I opened it, there was Lisa.

"I just wanted to know what you were up to. I haven't seen you in a while." she said. "Uh, going somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm going out. Is that a problem?" I said indignantly.

"No," she said warily. "Just curious. Where are you going?"

"The Boy's Room. OK with you?" I said angrily.

"Uh, sounds great" she said. "You go girl."

"What does THAT mean? I'm sorry I'm not dressed for you tonight, but you know what? I need to be me," I said angrily.

"Who said anything about any of that?" she asked timidly. "I was kidding. Calm down."

"I am calm," I said. "I need some time to be me, not who you want me to be!"

"OK, OK," she said, sounding hurt. "Go hook up. Have a gang bang. Whatever. I don't know what I did, but I apologize."

"Look," I said, impatiently. "I'd like to get going."

"So go," she said. "I'd like to know what's gotten into you, but you clearly are 'on the rag' today, so I won't bother."

"What the hell does THAT mean? I'm a guy, you know, despite what you think."

Now Lisa got angry. "Look BRIAN," she spat. "I know what you are and I thought I knew who you are. I don't know what the hell has or hasn't crawled up your ass, but tell you what. When you get off whatever the fuck you're on and want to act like a human being, forget my friend but just a human being, you call me," she said, walking out of the room.

"Good," I thought. "My night's free." I went to the Boy's Room that night. I tried to play predator, and hit on everyone I saw who was even remotely attractive. You know you're in trouble when you can't get laid at a gay bar at 2 AM. One guy turned to his friend and said, "Oooh, look, Miss Bottom's getting all macho." That really killed it for me. Maybe my heart wasn't in it. If it was possible, I felt even worse and even more confused. I went home and stared at the television until I fell asleep.

At 11 AM Saturday, I called Lisa. Jim picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey Jim, it's Brian. Is Lisa there?"

"Why? You wanna rip her new one?"

"I guess she said something."

"Go figure. Her best friend craps all over her, and she says something. Women, who understands them?" he said, sarcastically.

"I deserve that. Can I speak to her?"

"I don't know. Are you going to be you, or the Manhole?"

"You know a little too much about some things," I tried to joke.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes," he said coldly. "I've told you before. She loves you, and you trip out. Quite frankly, I don't know why she does it or what the hell's up with you. I just know that she is my number one priority, and if she keeps getting upset, you'll feel it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes. She's lucky to have you."

"That's the first sensible thing you've said in the past twelve hours. I'll see if she wants to talk, but again remember - if she gets upset, I get upset. If I get upset, you get...well, let's see what you get," he said ominously. "Hey Lise, Act Up boy is on the phone."

"What?" she said coldly.

"Um, can we talk?"

"Can we?"

"I'd like to do face-to-face."

"Are you going to attack me again? I have things to do, and that doesn't fit into my plans, BRIAN," she said, saying my name like a curse.

"I just want to talk. If you don't, call me when you do."

"I'll be downstairs in five minutes," she said with a sigh.

She came over. "What happened to you last night?"

"Look, Lise. I'm sorry about how I said what I said."

She tensed up. "How you said what you said? What does that mean?"

"I mean I'm sorry I attacked you. I've been feeling lost lately. Like I don't know who I am."

"And that means you attack me, why? Oh wait, Julia's back, isn't she?"

"Let's not get into that, OK? Let's keep on the subject. I've been feeling lost, like Jessica was replacing Brian. Like I was being made a girl to satisfy your needs."

"What?"

"Like you're uncomfortable with me being gay, so this is your way of dealing with it. By trying to change me."

"Excuse me?" she said, with eyes bulging. "I'm uncomfortable with you being gay? That would actually be hilarious if I didn't think you believed it. Explain to me how I'm uncomfortable," she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Have we ever talked about my relationships?"

"What relationships?"

"I've had relationships."

"What do you mean, 'talk about them?' I'd like to understand the nature of the charges."

"You never asked me what these guys were like, how our sex life was..."

She held her hand up. "Do YOU ever ask me about my sex life?"
"You tell me, and I listen."

"I tell you that Jim won't leave me alone. We don't talk about Jim's prowess. Do you want to, because I will?"

"No."

"Are we supposed to? Did Julia say we should?" she said mockingly.

"Leave her out of it. Anyway, we've never once gone out as couples, you, me, Jim and whomever I was with."

"Did you ever ask?"

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't. I would've liked to, as long as we're talking. That you never did is your own problem, not mine, Bri."

"You yelled at me about Jeff."

"We're back on that? Look, I'm sorry I yelled, but I didn't want you beat to a pulp. Also, quite frankly, you were acting ridiculous."

"I can't assert my sexuality? Does it bother you when I do?" I said quickly, so as to be able to get the words out.

"OK," she said. "That is clearly Julia. What does that mean? If Jennifer was acting like that, I'd call her on it. Am I uncomfortable with her sexuality too? Maybe I'm just sexually repressed. Why don't we see if Julia can fit me in? I've clearly got issues," she said.

"I just feel like you used Jessica to somehow mask your discomfort with my being gay," I mumbled.

"That hurts. After sixteen years of what I thought until last night was being best friends, that hurts." she said. "I am not uncomfortable with you being gay. We are, or is it were, friends. Maybe you never felt comfortable talking about sex or bringing your boyfriends over, but I didn't. Anybody you love, I'll love. I mean that. I'm not your family. I won't reject you. But you need to ask yourself, 'Am I comfortable with me?' Maybe you aren't. Maybe Jessica triggers all sorts of things in you that you've been avoiding. If you don't want to deal, I'm not going to make you. Until last night, you actually seemed to be getting comfortable as Jessica..."

"Not this again. I don't want to be a woman," I said. "I like being a guy. I'm doing it for you."

She rolled her eyes. "And I appreciate that. As I was saying, you seemed to be getting comfortable. If you don't want to do it, don't do it. I'll survive. I won't lie. It hurts. But I'll live. I really just want you to be happy. But I can't make you happy. You need to do that yourself."

"Thanks Oprah," I joked.

"Shut up," she said, with a smile. "I'm serious. You need to do what makes you happy. Do you want to get brunch?"

"Sure," I said. "Let me get dressed. Come in the bedroom."

"So," she said sarcastically. "Did you get you laid? And I mean that in the most supportive way."

"Yeah, yeah. I deserved that."

"Did you?"

"I tried."

"You didn't. After all that, and you didn't even get laid. Good, you deserved it." Then she started laughing.

"Anyway, what should I wear?"

"Oh no, Brian. I am so not going there. Whatever I say, you'll tell Julia and she'll say I'm stifling your sexuality or something like that. I am so not going there. Wait," she said. "Where's last night's outfit? I am willing to go out with an out and proud gay man. I am a proud member of PFLAG."

"Having fun? Would you like to invite Jim to join in?"

"Jim actually blamed me. Said all this girl stuff is making you hormonal."

"Remind me to thank him," I said dryly.

"Tell you what. You put on what you want. I'll wait in the living room."

I agonized for ten minutes. Lisa called in, "Boy, you really are Jim's revenge on me. What's taking so long?"

I came out wearing a gray sweater, black wool skirt, gray tights and a pair of black boots with a 2" heel. "Let's go."

"So you decided to go with Jessica," she said. "I didn't pressure you, right?"

"No. That's what I felt like being. Today. Tomorrow I may feel differently. OK?"

"Boy, whether you like it or not, you are becoming such a girl."

"I'm serious."

"I know," she said quietly. "I love you Brian. Whatever you want, I want. Just be happy, OK?"

"OK, OK," I said. "Emotional time is over. EJ's?" I asked brightly. "I need french toast."

"That'll probably reject you too," she joked.

"You're stifling my sexuality," I shot back.

"You know, I'm calling Julia for rebuttal time. You are nuts. Let me call Jim and see if he wants to join us."

Jim came down and looked at me. "Damn," he said. "I was hoping for last night's outfit. It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superfag!"

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," I said. "You want me."

"Maybe that shrink of yours can prescribe some heavy-duty meds, because you are nuts," he said. "I've told you. I'm taken," he said, grabbing Lisa by the waist.

"I wouldn't take you even if you asked," I joked.

"You so want me, fudge packer," he said. "Who wouldn't?"

Lisa raised her hand. "As amusing as this is, could you two stop?"

Jim grabbed me by the waist. "I think she's getting jealous."

"I think so. Do you think she'll be my bridesmaid?"

Lisa laughed. "You know what? You deserve each other. He's an imbecile and you're nuts, Jess."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I won't bore you with the day-by-day recitation of my life. January turned to February and February to March. I took Julia's advice and just let myself be "in the moment" as Jessica. Don't get me wrong. I was still on guard, since however comfortable I was getting, society was not. But being "in the moment" really helped. I stopped constantly worrying and just did what I wanted. I was much more productive with my work. My billing was up 25% over the past year. I had always done well, but now I was really making money. Unfortunately, Jessica was consuming more and more of it. By March, I was down to 123 pounds and a 24" waist. My abs were as flat as ever and I was, quite frankly, hot. I began to spend more time dressed as Jessica, since it allowed me to show off my new body. I liked getting the once over from guys who, if they were gay, wouldn’t have given Brian a second look. Julia had a great time with that.

“So, you like when guys look at you?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “Yes I do. Who wouldn’t?”

“And you find yourself getting dressed in sexier and sexier outfits?”

“Yes. I enjoy it. It’s not like I get a lot of attention as Brian.”

“Hmmm,” she said. “Do you feel like you put the same effort into Brian as you do into Jessica?”

“I don’t understand.”

“How much did you work out as Brian?”

“I don’t know. 4 times a week.”

“And as Jessica?”

“Maybe one more time.”

“Do you do anything else?”

“Not really.”

“Really? I couldn’t help but notice your abs seem very toned lately.”

“Do you often look at your patients’ abs, Julia?”

She rolled her eyes. “Only those that cross-dress and wear belly Ts, Brian.”

“Touche. OK, so I do situps too. And probably eat healthier.”

“OK, so you work out more and eat healthier, and wear sexy outfits. But, yet, you maintain that this is quote, “all for Lisa.” unquote.”

“Yes.”
“If you met someone else doing this, what would your response be?”

“I don’t know. I can’t read minds.”

“Fine, Brian.”

“What does that mean? And don’t say “what do you think it means?” I hate that.”

“OK, Brian. I’ve said it before. You seem more at peace this way. You seem to truly have embraced this part of your personality.”

“It’s fun. It’s fun to walk around without feeling like society’s looking down on you. But that doesn’t mean I want to do it full time.”

“If you could, would you?”

“No. Once the wedding is over, so is Jessica.”

She kept rolling her eyes. It was like therapy at the Caesars’ Palace slots room. “So you’ve invested in all these clothes and makeup for four months.”

“Yes.”

“Really? How much have you spent?”

I stared at the floor. “I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, given your personality, I doubt that you can’t give me a very close estimate.”

“I don’t know. $4,000 more or less.”

"Has Lisa reimbursed you for that?"

"No. I haven't asked. I'm sure she would."

"But you haven't asked."

"No."

"So you've spent four thousand dollars for something that will be over in June."

"Uh huh. And?"

"That's quite a lot. What do you suppose you'll do with all of these clothes once you're done?'

"I don't know. Donate them to charity?"

"Very altruistic of you, Brian. In fact, this whole process reeks of altruism. First, you do this solely for Lisa. And then, at the end, you give away the clothes to charity. It's almost like a cleansing ritual. Or like you've martyred yourself for the good of the world," she said sarcastically.

"Fine, Julia. I find this really helpful. I come to work on my problems, and you mock me. Maybe, you just don't understand doing for someone else. I did this for Lisa. I've said it time and again. And, at the end of the day, I'll give my clothes to Dress for Success. Help some poor women get a leg up. That's it."

"OK, Brian. I just think you need to decide if that's what you want. If you do, that's great. I'm just suggesting that maybe you need to examine what it is you want, not what's good for everyone else."

"I have, Julia. But, I understand your point."

"That's all I'm going for, Brian. You've spent your life worrying about everyone else. Enjoy yourself."

"Yup. Got it."

"And with that terse reply, I'm afraid time is up. I'll see you next week."

I left Julia feeling like I had for the past several weeks. Like she couldn't understand that this was finite. Yes, it was fun to play dress-up and take on a different role. But, life wasn't that simple. It's not like my clients would take to me dressing in drag. It could be fun once in a while. But, you know what? Putting on make-up every day was time consuming. Julia was right the first time - heels do hurt after a while. And keeping your legs closed was annoying. Other than that, I just didn't know. No, I knew. Jessica was like summer vacation. Fun while it lasted, but it had to come to an end. Right?

Anyway, one Saturday, Lisa and I were shopping in Barney's. She had gone off to find something and I was browsing in the Prada department. I was dressed in a peasant blouse, knee length paisley skirt and boots.

"Brian?" I heard someone say. I turned around to face Melissa D'Amico, the CTO of one of my clients.

"I'm sorry," I said, hoping this would pass. "You must be mistaken."

She didn't flinch. "Either you're Brian Rosen or his identical twin sister. Which is it?"

"His twin sister?" My tone must have tipped her off. She pounced

"I knew it. I knew something was up at our meeting last week."

"Oh god. What do you mean?"

"Tisha," her secretary, "noticed a couple of months ago that you had that new haircut. I didn't think anything of it. Then, last week, she said, 'I swear he's getting curves. And he's wearing your black pinstripe suit.' Then, when you left to go to the bathroom, I looked. It said 'Banana Republic, Size 8.' 'You bitch,' I thought, 'I'm a 10.'" Then she laughed.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry, Melissa. It won't happen again," I pleaded.

"Relax, Brian. You bring projects in ahead of time and on or under budget. As far as I'm concerned, you could wear a tutu."

"Thanks, I think."

"Also," she laughed. "I work in an office with guys who consider Star Trek crew shirts de riguer office apparel. I have one guy who dresses like a Jedi Knight. Quite frankly, men's or women's suits, you dress incredibly professionally. Although, I must say, lose the tie next time and roll the cuffs up over the jacket sleeve. With a string of pearls, you will be the picture of girl power."

"Thanks a lot, Melissa." I said sarcastically. "Besides what about Raj and Danny," the company's CEOs. "They would not be too thrilled about this."

"Don't worry about Raj and Danny. Number 1, with the road show for the IPO coming up, they don't know what day it is, much less what you're wearing. Number 2, as far as Raj is concerned, you've walked on water ever since you debugged the Bank of America software at the 11th hour last year. In fact, he said I have carte blanche to get you on full-time. What will it take? The IPO will make you rich."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I cashed out in the 90s and have more than enough. I have no interest in working for one company anymore. Tell you what though. I'll take shares in lieu of my fee for the next six months."

"Done."

"What about Danny? What would he think?"

"Danny," she said, laughing. "Let's just say, unless you're Queen Amidala, he wouldn't notice you."

"So, I'm not fired?"

"No. In fact, if I let you go, I'd be following you out the door. You are too valuable to let something like that outfit get in the way. Although it is a little trippy for me."

"Ha ha. So, Tisha noticed first?"

"Yeah. She asked and I quote, 'so is Brian getting off the down low, and becoming a girl?'"

"Oh god."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Are you?"

"That question is out of line, Melissa."

"I think we're a little past indignation, don't you? I mean I found you dressed in a skirt shopping in Barney's. In addition, you've started to get curves and you've got that very cute, but very feminine, haircut. I think the time for feigning incomprehension is past, sweetie."

"Fair enough."

"So answer the question."

"No. I'm not getting a sex change. What do you think of me?"

"I just thought that, well, you know..."

"No. What?"

"Well, I mean you are gay..."

"Come on, Melissa," I sighed. "I expect that from Tisha, but not you."

"You're right. But, the outfit, the haircut, the curves...what's up?"

And with that, I told her the whole story. When I finished, she had the same reaction as everyone else. She whistled and said, "Wow. That's pretty amazing. That's a lot to ask."

"Tell me about it."

"But you've never done this before. Really?"

"Really."

With that, as if on cue, Lisa showed back up. When she saw Melissa, she stopped. "Oh, hey, Jess. Who's your friend?" she said a little too brightly.

"It's OK, Lise. She knows. Melissa, Lisa Wasserman, the bride. Lisa, Melissa D'Amico." They shook hands. "Melissa's the CTO of Excelsior, the client I've told you about. The integrated video-audio streaming software for corporate development."

Lisa turned to Melissa, and said, "I have to apologize. Even dressed like this, he's such a geek. He thinks he's explaining things to me, and forgets I don't have a CS degree."

Melissa laughed. "Understood. I have to say, you have one hell of a friend here. I don't know too many guys, even gay ones, who would do this."

Lisa smiled, "I know. He's truly the best."

I blushed, as Melissa went on. "Did you do his makeup? It's flawless."

"No. He's done it himself from the beginning."

Melissa turned to me. "I thought you never did this before, you liar."

"He's not lying. I've known him since freshman year. If he had done it, I'd know. Nope, this is just Brian being Brian."

"I don't understand."

"When he decided to do this, he started researching it on the Net. Practiced every style of makeup for two days until he found the right one."

"That's our Brian. Nothing if not thorough to the point of OCD."

I coughed loudly. "Ahem, I AM standing here."

They looked at me, and then started again. "I do have one bone to pick with you, Lisa."

"What?"

"You let him go out dressed like Woodstock."

Lisa laughed. "I tried to stop him. He's usually much better. Very Ann Taylor. Very classic."

Melissa looked me over. "I could see that. Let's find him some more outfits that work better. Then we're burning that one."

"Boy," I said. "I think I'll go rob a bank."

"What?" they both said.

"I must be invisible. So, I may as well use it."

They went back to ignoring me. "I see him in a nice pencil skirt and cropped sweater," said Melissa. "Show off those curves he has. That and those legs."

"You know, this is making me a little nervous, Melissa. I mean we do work together. This is a little too personal."

She put her arm around me. "Relax, Brian. What happens in Barney’s stays in Barney’s. This is just fun. Like I said before, no one is letting you go. In fact, I'll fight anyone who tries to poach you, so just relax."

Lisa interjected. "He worries too much. Even after three and a half months, he's still afraid. Look at him. He's beautiful and sexy. And he still thinks everyone's coming after him. I like the pencil skirt idea, by the way."

"Have you seen his Banana Republic suit? I told him next time to ditch the tie for some pearls."

"Oh, I know. With a pair of low heels, he would be so stunning. I'm also thinking a cream colored suit, with a blue blouse."

"The boys would eat him up. Although I’d love to see him in more skirts. He was made to wear skirts."

I coughed again, rather loudly.

Melissa briefly glanced at me and said, “OK, Brian. I know. Skirts would be a little too much now.”

“Now?”

“We’ll see.”

“No, we won’t. There is nothing to see. After the wedding, this is done.”

Melissa and Lisa looked at each other and smiled. Then Lisa said, "This is soooo much fun, Melissa. I love having someone else to play Barbie with."

Melissa laughed. "I forgot how much fun that could be."

I spent the rest of the afternoon with the two of them dragging me around, and making me try on outfits. Every time I put on a skirt, Melissa would whistle and say, “You need to wear more skirts, girl. You are just fabulous in skirts.” Then once she “accidentally” dropped her pocketbook. When I went to pick it up, she grabbed my ass. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. It’s so cute. Try it, Lisa.” Then Lisa did it. I felt like such a piece of meat.

In addition, whenever saleswomen asked, they said, "Jess has lost a lot of weight lately. If you knew her before, you wouldn't recognize her." They each, as "consolation," bought me a new outfit. Lisa bought me a pair of leather pants and a sleeveless belly T, along with a black pencil skirt and white blouse. Melissa went classic, and bought me the aforementioned cream colored suit. She told me to wear it to our next meeting with "no tie!"

In addition to torturing me, Lisa got an added benefit. When she told Melissa that she did P.R., Melissa told her that Excelsior was going to need a new firm and she set up a meeting. At Bloomingdale's, Lisa said, "You know what Jessica needs? A sexy little black dress. We have something coming up."

"What?" I said, "What do we have coming up?

"Patience, Jessica. Patience is rewarded." Then the bitch turned to Melissa and whispered something to her. Melissa raised her eyebrows, and they both giggled.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

"Oh, relax, Jess," said Melissa. "It's no fun to ruin a surprise."

"I'm calling Raj," I said feebly. "I'm quitting."

Melissa laughed. "And telling him what? That I kept a secret from you while you were trying on dresses.

I just moaned.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next week, Lisa, her mother, and I set aside for dress shopping. Her other bridesmaid Jennifer couldn’t make it, but she and I had shared ideas on our dresses. Her mother was coming in, and we were going first to Vera Wang and then to Kleinfeld's in Brooklyn. Kleinfeld's is this gigantic discount bridal place in Brooklyn, I found out. You find the dress you want in the city, and then go there to get it cheap.

Lisa called me Friday night. "My mom is coming at 10 AM. We'll get breakfast and go, OK?"

"Does she know what to expect?" I asked, referring to me.

"Let's surprise her," she said, "Wear the pale blue dress, and your blue slides. I'll call you when she gets here."

At 10 AM, Lisa called and I went to her place. I knocked. I heard Lisa say, "Ma, can you get that?"

Her mother opened the door. "May I help you, Miss?" Then she did a double take. "Ohmigod, Brian! Is that you?" she squealed. "You look absolutely adorable."

I gave a twirl. I know it seems like I do that a lot. But there's nothing like the feel of a skirt swirling around your legs. "Do you like, Sandy?"

Lisa came in and said, with a grin, "So, Ma, what do you think?"

"Brian, you are just stunning. This suits you."

I blushed. "Call him Jessica, Mom. I think the yentas at Kleinfeld's will get confused if you call him Brian, no?"

"I'm sorry. Jessica," she gushed. "Lisa told me you changed. But I swear I wouldn't know it was you. You have gorgeous legs. Such a shame you didn't wear skirts before."

Lisa interjected, "And he knows how to work it. Show my mother your walk."

If it was at all possible, I turned redder. "Stop it."

"Come on, Jess. Show her your walk."

I walked, and gave my ass an extra shake. "You know," her mother said, "if she does that at the wedding, no one will notice you, Lisa."

I laughed. "I doubt that. We are going to get Lisa a dress so phenomenal, no one will take their eyes off of her. I've been reading the magazines and have some ideas." Sandy arched an eyebrow.

Lisa smiled. "You know Bri, ma. When he takes on a job, he takes it on. He scares me sometimes. Do you know he taught himself make-up in like two days? It looked that good his first time out."

Her mother gave a low whistle. "I am impressed, Bri...I mean Jessica. You do look good."

"Thank you," I said. "Enough of praising me here. We can continue at breakfast and then in the cab. We need to avoid the crowds."

They both laughed. After breakfast, we met up with Jennifer and went to Vera Wang to look for a wedding dress. Lisa tried on several styles. We rejected the first five. One was too poofy. One had too much beadwork. One made Lisa, who weighed all of 125 pounds, look fat.

Dress number six was a gorgeous sleeveless satin dress. A long, flowing unadorned skirt. Empire waist. The bodice was satin, with a sheer piece from the bustline up.

Her mother began to cry. "You look...just...oh my."

I started to tear up too. "Lisa, that is it. We are not looking anymore. That is absolutely it." I turned to the salesgirl. "Put it aside."

Lisa came over and hugged her mother. "Is it OK, mom?"

She kept crying. "Listen to Jessica," she sobbed.

I gave Lisa a hug. "You look absolutely phenomenal. "

"You really think so?"

"Yes, now take it off, before it gets wrinkled."

The salesgirl put it aside. "We'll be back," said her mother. This was a contingent lie. By that, I mean that we'd be back unless Kleinfeld's had one just like it for less. Then, we wouldn't be. Everyone understood the drill.

As we walked out, Sandy said, "So, Jessica, Jennifer, do you have any ideas for the bridesmaid's dresses?"

"Well, Jennifer and I were talking. We were thinking sleeveless, knee length black or blue."

Sandy laughed. "Gee, Jessica. I don't know whose figure that could flatter."

I blushed and laughed. "Hey, once I was brought in, I wasn't about to wear some sea-foam green poofy thing."

Lisa interjected. "He is such a JAP, ma. I swear, he's Jim's revenge."

Her mother laughed. "Well, you were your father's revenge on me..."

Lisa continued. "There's just one problem, ma."

Her mother sighed. "Allison. I know. I've made it abundantly clear to her that she will do this the way you want, and with a smile on her face, but you know how she is."

Lisa's shoulders slumped. "I know. I know."

“Come on,” I said. “We’ll get her into this. I mean, if I can be made to do it, so can she.”

They both gave me the half-smile that seemed to happen every time I talked about it. “Sure,” said Lisa, with a smirk. “You’re right. Crunchy will get as into it as you.”

“Stop calling your sister Crunchy,” said Sandy.

“But she is,” Lisa whined, as if reverting to age twelve.

“You will treat her nicely and she will, god help me, do this with a smile. Or at least do it and not complain in public.”

“Um, does she know I’m involved?” I asked. Allison and I had a tense relationship. For all the supposed tolerance of Dead Heads, she was extremely intolerant of people who didn’t fit her model. Not that I was gay, but that I actually made money for my work above and beyond the amount needed to buy Phish tickets and pot.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? Sort of is like sort of pregnant, Lise. Does she or doesn’t she?”

“She knows Jessica is,” said Sandy.

“Doesn’t she wonder who Jessica is?”

Lisa sneered, “Oh yeah. Like she cares about my friends.”

Sandy sighed. “I think she said, ‘Doesn’t she have another little princess who can take my place in this bullshit?’”

Lisa smirked. “Well, I think she’s not only getting a princess, she’s getting a queen.” Then she stuck her tongue out at me.

“You’re just jealous because I’ve lost more weight than you.”

“Anorexia will do that.”

“I never noticed how green your eyes were, Lisa. It’s sad though.”

“That’s enough girls,” laughed Sandy. “When I said you were like a daughter to me, Brian. This is not what I meant.”

I giggled. “Sorry, mom.”

This is went on for a while as we drove to Kleinfeld’s. Lisa found the dress and her mother paid for it. We felt bad for the woman at Vera Wang, but fifty percent off is fifty percent off.

Next we had more fun. We shopped for my dress. First I tried on a black cocktail length sleeveless dress.

“I don’t know,” said Lisa.

“Eh,” said her mother, “I don’t think so. It looks nice. But too many women at the wedding will be wearing something close.”

I tried on several more dresses. My personal favorite was a white beaded backless dress that ended 2" above my knee. I looked damn hot. I strutted out and gave a model’s turn.

“Damn, Jess,” said Lisa. “Did Sharon Stone have a garage sale?”

“Nice try,” said Sandy. “You look very nice, but THAT is not for my daughter’s wedding. A night out at a club, maybe. Not going down the aisle.”

I mock pouted. “Oh, poo. I like it.”

Then Lisa said, “Wait!,” and whispered something to her mother. They both giggled and Sandy turned to the saleswoman. “Put it aside.”

“I thought you said it was inappropriate,” I said warily.

“It is,” said Sandy, with a Mona Lisa smile.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Buying you a present. Can’t I do that?”

“Sure. But where will I wear it?”

“You’ll see.”

I turned to Lisa. “That’s enough. Everyone is in on the joke except me. What’s going on?”

She grinned. “Good things come to those who wait, sweetie.”

“What?!”

“Ride the tide, Jess. Just ride the tide. See what happens.”

“You’re like a bad kung fu movie. What is going on? Sandy, speak.”

“Woof,” she said, with a grin. “I promise, Jess. Be patient. Would Lisa let anything happen to you? Would I?”

My stomach sank. “I see this is getting nowhere.”

Finally, I tried on a light blue sheath, knee length. If I do say so myself, I looked damn good.

Lisa whistled. “I don’t want to be overshadowed,” she laughed.

“If this were in the afternoon, maybe,” Sandy said. “Not for Saturday. Try it in a darker blue, maybe cerulean..”

When I put it on in cerulean, we all agreed that it was the dress, pending Jennifer’s approval. We’d ask Allison, but apparently she said, “Does what I think matter, anyway?” I made a note to see if it came in hemp.

After we finished, the saleswoman said, “Would you like to try it on too, Miss?”

I turned whatever the next shade is past beet red. “Uh..I...uh.”

“Please,” said the saleswoman. “Every girl wants to know what she’ll look like on her wedding day.”

“Yeah, come on, Jessica,” chimed in Lisa and her mother. “We want to see it.”

“Uh, isn’t it bad luck to try on the dress or something?”

The saleswoman laughed. “No, it’s supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see you in it beforehand. But only goyim believe that. What are you afraid of? You will look stunning.”

“You will,” said Sandy, with a devilish grin. “Try it.”

“Come on, Jess,” said Lisa, pushing me towards the dressing room. “Don’t be so lame. She’s an 8,” she said, to the saleswoman.

“Live a little,” said the saleswoman. “Don’t worry so much.”

The next thing I knew I was in the dressing room, with the saleswoman handing me a dress. “What size shoe do you wear?”

“Uh, 9  ½,” I said, blushing.

“Look, darling,” she said. “Just because the expression is blushing bride, don’t take it so literally. I’ll be outside.”

I stared at myself in the mirror. I was alternately horrified and mesmerized. “What am I doing?” I thought. “Now, she has me in a wedding dress. Am I going to be in maternity clothes next? Damn, I look good though.”

The saleswoman gave me a pair of white 4" heels, and I came out of the dressing room. I walked over to the fitting station to an imaginary wedding march.

“Oh my,” said Sandy. “Can I be mother of the bride for you too? You look gorgeous.”

Lisa added, “Oh my, Jessica. You will have to have that dress when the time comes.”

“The time isn’t coming, Lise,” I said, through gritted teeth.

“Don’t say that,” said the saleswoman. “A beautiful girl like you will find someone.”

“Sooner than she thinks,” said Lisa.

“What does that mean?” I said.