“Chuck? You okay?” I asked as sweetly as I could.

Chuck kind of shook himself. “Oh ...yeah. I’m fine. Wow, Susie, ...wow!”

Uncle Jack, Aunt Margaret, and Cindy all looked at Chuck and then at each other and began to laugh. “Okay, now that we’ve established that Susan is ‘wow’, can we eat?” Uncle Jack said between laughs.

We headed out to the car, and believe it or not, Chuck held the door open for me.

The Cabin - Part 9

Chapter 24: Dinner

Dinner was very strange. On one level it was an incredible experience, because it was the first time I was totally a girl in public with all of my cousins. Everything was different and new from what I’d experienced as a boy. Doors were held for me, chairs were held for me, the waiter took my order before my uncle’s, and so on. I remembered to order a small portion, with a salad, take small bites, and after dessert Cindy and I went to the Ladies’ room. While we were there, we talked about the cute waiter working two tables away from us.

All during dinner, in the back of my mind I’d been thinking about the new me; if I was going to be a girl outwardly–and I was beginning to think like a girl inwardly–I’d have to go the whole way, and that meant joining Cindy in her mooning about the waiter. Besides, he was kind of cute, now that I thought of it. I realized that I’d have to look at guys differently, and realized instantly that it was incorrect–I’d never really looked at any guys. All of a sudden I found myself looking at their bodies–their butts and arms, faces and hair–and very, very strange feelings started surfacing. Had they always been inside me?

‘Bikini thoughts’, I thought, like the realization that I’d always wanted a bikini even though I’d never known that I wanted a bikini. Thoughts that were buried, suppressed or never used, like gifts under a Christmas tree that had never been opened–but they’d been there for years.

We fixed our makeup; we both realized that, incredibly, in all our shopping we’d forgotten to get me any kind of purse or bag, but Cindy had hers and we shared the contents. We were just finishing when Aunt Margaret came in, used the facilities, and joined us at the mirror.

“My two lovely girls,” she said as she brushed her hair. She gave me a huge smile. “How does it feel, Sue?”

“Fantastic, Aunt Margaret. I can’t describe it very well. It’s all so new and exciting, and yet it also seems to make perfect sense and feel perfectly comfortable. Incredibly …normal. Does that make sense?”

“It does if this is what you were meant to be,” my aunt said with a sad look. “Poor Susan; not fitting in all these years. But at least you know where you belong now, right?”

“Right!” I hugged her.

“Mom, we forgot to get Sue her own purse,” Cindy said.

My aunt stared. “How did we for–” She smiled. “I know how we forgot! It’s because it was just so natural having Susan with us, she’s a girl, girls have purses, therefore, Susie had her purse and we never questioned it.” She chuckled and shook her head. “You’re right, Susan; it’s all so incredibly normal. Well, we’ll remedy the purse situation quickly.”

Cindy got serious for a moment. “Mom, there really isn’t any chance of Sue having to go back to being a boy, is there?”

“Well, it’s a long summer, and anything can happen, but I don’t really think that will happen. Judging from what I’ve seen and heard, I think she’s found her proper place in life.” She beamed at me.

We all agreed, and all freshened up, rejoined the guys, who stood when we walked up. That was, well, nice. We finished up the coffee, paid for dinner, and returned home. It was not that late, but we were exhausted from the day’s activities–I was, especially–and there was a knock at my door. I’d gotten out of my dress, panties and bra and into a new nightgown, a pretty lacy short one with matching panties, but hadn’t taken off my makeup or any jewelry. When I opened the door I was surprised to see my uncle. I blushed and suddenly felt naked in front of him, so I turned to hide my blush and grabbed a new yellow chenille robe we’d bought that day. I hurriedly tied it and sat on my vanity seat, my knees and ankles together, hands in my lap; he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“I’ve, uh ...I came to say ‘good night’, uh ...” he said slowly, looking somewhere over me and to the right. He didn’t want to say my name.

“Oh, okay. Thanks! Good night, Uncle Jack,” I said with some hesitancy. I had no idea what was on his mind.

“The thing is–” he cleared his throat and started again decisively. “The thing is, I know what the real story is. I mean, about you. Chuck thinks it was all a medical mistake, and that’s okay, but I know the truth.”

“Isn’t ‘a medical mistake’ the truth?”

“You know what I mean. I’ve seen you as a baby; I know you’ve got a di–a penis. For the life of me, I don’t know how you’ve spent summers with us without the boys seeing it, but you’ve got it and that’s that.”

I was afraid that, after all this, he was going to pull the plug on my girlhood. “What do you mean, Uncle Jack?”

“I mean, well, I still don’t know if this is right and all, letting you prance around dressed like ...like that.” He looked at me for the first time and pointed to my robe.

“I’m sorry that you don’t like me–” I began.

“It’s not that I don’t like you, I mean …you’re family, but it just seems against the grain for me. I’m putting a good face on it in front of the others, but I just want you to know I’m having a hard time dealing with it.”

“I understand, Uncle Jack. You want to know something? I’m having a hard time dealing with it, myself.”

He was surprised. “You are?”

“You bet. You think it’s easy suddenly discovering that everything about you is wrong, and having to learn everything new from the other side? It’s really, really weird.”

“You mean you don’t want to dress and act like this?”

“Wanting doesn’t have anything to do with it, like I said. I just am this way. Believe me, it would be a lot simpler for me and everybody else if I wasn’t this way, and was just a regular guy. Or had been born a regular girl.”

He looked thoughtful and slowly said, “I never thought about it that way. All along, I thought you were maybe having a joke at our expense, putting one over on us. You know, gay-boy funny stuff.”

My anger flared up at his ‘gay-boy’ remark, but I kept it under control and decided to keep to the course I’d started. “This may sound weird, but I’m not gay.”

“What do you mean, ‘you’re not gay’? No real man would want to wear that frilly sissy stuff.”

“Right. And that means ...” I was hoping he’d make the connection himself.

“That you don’t want to wear it?” He was confused.

“It’s not wanting to or not. I’m just more comfortable in these clothes–female clothes. Even more than the clothes, I’m just more comfortable as a girl. Face it, I should have been born a girl. Let’s face it, Uncle Jack; I just am not ‘a real man’, am I?”

“No, I can see that. You look so much like a girl like Cindy.”

“So what’s the problem? You’ve got a wonderful daughter that will never be ‘a real man’ and you don’t have trouble with it.”

“But Cindy’s a girl!”

“And so am I! Okay, forget what’s between the legs.” I felt I was on dangerous ground talking this way, but kept going. “If you don’t think about what’s between the legs, how do you know if someone is a boy or a girl?”

“That’s easy. You’re a boy or a girl when you’re born. The doctors tell you.”

This was going to be even harder than I thought. And I thought he’d understood, already!

I took a breath. “Okay. How do they know?”

“Simple. They look between–” He stopped suddenly and stared at me with dawning comprehension. “Oh. I see what you mean. They can’t ask the baby something like, ‘trucks or dolls?’ can they? Like we talked about. Whoa. I never thought about it that way. Well, okay; they could put the baby in a room with toys and stuff and see what the baby goes for. How’s that?”

I nodded slowly, as if I was considering it. “Could work. Baby goes for trucks, it’s a boy. Goes for dolls, a girl. But what if the baby can’t make up its mind? Or doesn’t immediately go to either side?”

“I dunno. Try something else, I guess. Wait a bit.”

“How long? A day? A year? Twelve years?”

Please, I thought, please make the connection, you macho bozo.

“Oh boy. Oh boy.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “Oh boy. Uh ...so I guess that’s …you?”

I nodded. “I’m the little girl that finally wandered over to play with the dolls.” I rather liked the image.

He thought in silence for a long while, and I let him. I turned and picked up my brush and began brushing my hair. I’d seen Cindy and him have conversations like this before bedtime, so I didn’t think it was rude. I also thought it was distinctly feminine image and might help him–but it didn’t have the effect I’d thought.

He looked up. “Please stop that.”

“What?”

“Brushing your hair like that. I’m trying to work this out and there you are looking just like a real girl. Confuses me,” he said, with the start of a grin.

I stopped brushing and laid the brush down and put my hands in my lap. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Uncle Jack.” On purpose, I had used a docile, submissive–and to Uncle Jack, a feminine–tone.

“I know, I know. This is all so strange to me. I just know about men, women, and queers.”

“May I say something, please?” I was angry but cool.

“Go ahead,” he said, surprised I’d asked. I’d asked permission because it would allow me to say what he had to hear. And this was something that had been on my mind for some time–and especially after Cindy pointed out the cute waiters at dinner.

“First of all, ‘queers’ is not a nice word. You mean ‘homosexuals’. So you meant to say three things, ‘men, women, and homosexuals’, right?”

He nodded, thinking I was only correcting his grammar.

“But men who are attracted to women are heterosexual; straight, or ‘normal’ you’d say. Right?” He nodded again, so I went on. “And women who are attracted to men are ‘normal’, too? Straight?” Another nod. “Okay, and men who are attracted to other men are homosexual, and women who are attracted to other women are also homosexual.”

“Yeah, but there aren’t that many women like that.”

I was amazed at the depth of his ignorance. Amazed and dismayed. I was only thirteen and I think I knew more of the real world than my uncle. This might be harder than I’d hoped.

“Okay, Uncle Jack, have you ever heard the word ‘transsexual’?”

“Yeah, they’re the pansies on talk shows.”

Omigod, I thought. Damn you, Springer and Maury and all the rest of the afternoon panderers. No time to educate my uncle now; I’d best stick to the original direction I’d been going and end this gracefully. Maybe in time he’d learn. Tonight it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

“Uncle Jack, I’m not even going to go into talk shows; they’re faked and staged, anyway. Okay, forget about transsexuals. Back to what we were talking about. Men who are attracted to women are ‘normal’ by your definition, right?”

“Sure. Everybody knows that.”

“And ‘normal’ boys want to wear pants and shirts and play with trucks and guns and grow up to wear suits and ties and shave and be the protector and all that, right?”

“Sure. Any normal guy would. Except the shaving; I hate to shave.”

We both chuckled and I was glad he was open to a little humor. Maybe …

I started in again. “Okay, on the other hand, ‘normal’ girls are attracted to boys and want to wear dresses and makeup and play with dolls and lacy things and shop and look pretty and giggle and all that, right?”

I felt crummy, almost a traitor, reducing femininity down to these stereotypes, but I thought it was the only way to reach him–to speak to him in his own Neanderthal language.

“Right.” He wasn’t bothered in the least by the slander on womanhood.

I took the desperate leap. “Uncle Jack, that’s me!”

He stared at me. “But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you want to wear that stuff and act that way?”

Omigod–we’re right back where we started! “Because I’m a normal girl, Uncle Jack!”

I crossed my arms under my breasts and sat there in frustration, glaring at him. There, it was said and done, and he’d have to think about it or not, accept it or not, but I was tired and he was stupid and it was a bad combination.

He stood there in stunned silence

I closed my eyes and tried one last thing. “Uncle Jack, you said something like ‘no real boy would want to wear pretty clothes and play with dolls and makeup and giggle’ and all that, right?”

He nodded and shrugged as if it were obvious.

“But girls do. And I do. It’s like a math problem. If A equals B and B equals C …”

“Then A equals C. Transitive law,” he said offhandedly.

“So if I–” I pointed to my chest. “–equal dresses, and dresses equals girls, then what?”

“Well, bad grammar aside, then you equal girls,” he said nodding, “but gay-boys wear dresses, too!”

“Uncle Jack, there are all sorts of gay-boys, including professional football players and cowboys, besides the ones you saw in dresses on Springer. The point is, they always know they’re male and want to stay male and don’t want to be female. They’re proud of being male with male minds.”

“Uh …right.” I realized he was struggling with the idea of gay professional football players.

Before he got too distracted, I said, “But I do want to be female–I am female! I saw a doctor who verified, medically, scientifically, that I have a female mind. And my body is about the least male body you’d ever find. It’s like I was supposed to be female but …” I had an idea; I just decided to wing it. “My father’s Y chromosome was just too strong. So I was born with a slightly male body.”

I could see him puff up at the idea of the big, strong, Y chromosome. I kept up with this new attack.

I said, “But I’m too much female; I’m not strong enough to withstand all the female inside of me. So I’m …letting go, and being the female that I truly am. And I’ve got proof.”

“Proof?” He was still mulling over the strong Y chromosome losing out to wussy X chromosomes.

“Proof. Not only the doctor–which should pretty much settle things–but the way you and Chuck treat me. The way you guys treated me tonight. Were you treating me like a gay-boy in a dress? No. You’re smart enough and man enough to recognize that I’m female, just like your wife and daughter. That’s your proof–you already know that I’m female by how you treated me!”

It was an idiotic argument, but considering my audience …

“Yeah, you’re right. We never got any gay vibe from you. You were just like Cindy.”

“That’s because I am just like Cindy, except for one tiny detail.” I took the next part in a rush. “And, oh, Uncle Jack! I’ve seen how you treat Cindy, so gentle and loving, and you know the difference between boys and girls!”

Again, idiotic, but I was throwing anything I could think of at him.

He looked at me for a long time, then nodded slowly.

“I think …maybe I get it. Well, I’ve got some thinking to do. And you’ve got to get to sleep, young–lady.” He grinned and I took this as the most hopeful sign of this silly conversation. “I’m going to talk with Margaret and think about this some more. See you in the morning.” He smiled, closed the door and left me wondering what the future would hold.

I picked up the brush and worked on my hair for many strokes, until I figured a decent amount of time had passed. I picked up my bag, put on my new slippers–they were so pretty, like ballet slippers–and went down to the bathroom. I removed the makeup, washed and moisturized my face. Looking in the mirror, I saw a pretty girl ready for bed. No trace of a boy.

I went back up to find my aunt sitting on the vanity seat. Oh boy, round two, I thought. I put my things down and she turned and smiled.

“Long day, huh, Sue? I won’t keep you long, but I wanted to say some things to you.” I sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded, waiting to be scolded. She shook her head with a laugh. “No, it’s not like that. Go ahead and get into bed.”

I relaxed a little, untied the robe, laid it on a bedpost, peeled off the slippers and got into bed, swinging my legs together under the sheets.

“My, Sue, that’s a pretty nightgown; much prettier on you than it looked in the store.”

I appreciated her compliment; maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She crossed her legs and leaned toward me. “First of all, I know Jack talked to you. He’s one confused fella!” She chuckled sadly and I smiled. “It’ll take time for him to absorb it all, but he was wonderful at dinner so maybe there’s hope. Just give him time. I don’t know what you said to him just now, but it rocked him plenty! I think he’s reached the tipping point, you know?”

“Tipping point? You mean towards accepting me?”

“Well, accepting is more of an …intellectual concept. With Jack it has to be more visceral, more from the gut, as he’d say. What I meant about tipping point for him was probably not quite right …” She frowned. “One viewpoint would be that you are a boy. Another is that you are a girl. The idea of tipping from boyhood to girlhood is something that …well, I don’t think Jack’s mind works that way. I should have said, ‘switch point’, more like a railroad.” She grinned. “And we always joke about men having one-track minds!”

I laughed with her but I understood. “One set of tracks are boy-tracks, another are girl-tracks.”

“Exactly. Mentally, he’s got to have a little switchman inside that says, ‘Oh, no! The niece train is on the nephew track by mistake! Pull the lever, switch ‘er onto the right track!’” She laughed at herself. “Just one reason why men are so strange to us!” She sighed deeply. “I think we talked about changing categories, or a mental filing cabinet, that sort of thing. I like the railroad analogy better. Completely different tracks. He’ll never accept a boy on a girl’s track. A girl on a boy’s track, sure, that’s a mistake but understandable because–as we know they think–why wouldn’t they want to be a man? As long as we can get him around the two inconvenient facts of a penis and an ‘M’ on your birth certificate, he’ll make the switch.”

“Maybe we should say, ‘Hey, which are you going to believe: That old piece of paper or the evidence of your own eyes’?”

“Something like that,” she smiled. “Anyway, Jack’s just about made the switch of his mental railroad.” She sighed. “At least Chuck’s quieted down for awhile, thank God. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. And once Jack …gets it, Chuck and Larry won’t be a problem.” Her face clouded a bit at the mention of Larry. I reached out and put my hand on the back of hers.

“I meant to tell you ‘thank you’ for telling me how to handle him and setting it all up.”

“Well, that’s what we women do–help each other.” A big smile from her. “Anyway, Cindy and I are thrilled that you’re Susan to stay–or at least for summer–” She left it hanging, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

“No, to stay. For summer, and the fall, and all the seasons forever.”

She reached out and covered my hand squeezing hers. “I know as a responsible adult, I’m supposed to say ‘we’ll see’ but I think so, too. And that was a very …poetic way of saying it, too; ‘for all the seasons forever’ …I rather liked it.” She let go of my hand and sat back. “I just wanted to say, take each day one day at a time. It works for the folks in AA but it’s good advice to everyone. One day at a time. Don’t try to learn everything about being a girl right away; believe me, you’ll learn soon enough. I know that you and Cindy were talking about the cute waiters at dinner–I heard you in the bathroom–and that’s fine with me. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I think so.” I was suddenly embarrassed that she’d heard us and I blushed.

She laughed and playfully swatted at me. “Oh, relax, silly! It was perfectly normal! And you were right–the dark-haired guy was way cuter!”

We laughed, just a couple of girls, and I loved her so much right then that I suddenly got teary.

“Oh, oh, what’s that? Here,” she handed me a tissue from the vanity. “Well, go ahead. Your mascara won’t run because you’ve already washed. Good time for a cry.”

I was pleased that she took my ‘typical female’ response in stride. I had no doubt that she had fully accepted me as a girl.

She turned serious. “Here’s the thing; until Jack’s had a chance to work this out, I seriously recommend you cool it talking about guys. Girls’ clothes are hard enough for him to accept without you being boy-crazy, too. I know it’ll be hard; I’ve talked with Cindy about this and she’ll try to soft-pedal things, too. You might ...” She was embarrassed to go on to the next subject. “You might want to not be really ‘girly’ around him for a few days. You’re not excessively girly, just very natural, but you’ll have to go easy on giggles and …you know, being flirty. Jack can’t handle it until he’s fully accepted you as a girl. We’ll know when he treats you just like Cindy. He was on his best behavior tonight; what counts will be the everyday stuff. So in the meantime, less is more. I think it was necessary that we hit him and Chuck over the head with your sundress and makeup; it really shocked them into seeing you as a girl. And by the way, you were lovely tonight.”

“Thank you. You think really feminine clothes might bother them? But Cindy wears them.” I thought about my uncle’s awkwardness with me in my nightie.

“Well, they’ve had years to get used to Cindy, and besides, being macho pigs, they don’t pay as much attention to the ladies.” She smiled, but there was a trace of bitterness there. “But it’s all so new with you; they’ve got to mentally move you from one side to the other.”

“But wouldn’t feminine clothes speed up the process?”

“Yes, of course ...I think I didn’t explain myself right. Your sundress, your nightie, that’s all fine. What I meant was, I know that you’re excited to try all sorts of clothing and styled. Just don’t start dressing like Scarlett O’Hara because you’ll look like, well ...do you know the phrase ‘drag queen’?”

“Of course I do,” I said with a laugh.

“Don’t do drag. That’ll make them think you’re a gay male. I know you’re longing to explore and find your own style, but for awhile, I think it’s better for you to follow Cindy’s lead. If she’s in shorts and a top, wear something similar. If she’s in jeans and a sweatshirt, wear something similar. You can learn about what works for you and gradually find your own style. I just don’t think it would be to your advantage if Cindy was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers, and you’re wearing a prom dress with pearls.”

We both laughed at the image.

I really cracked her up when I pretended to pout, “She’s got a prom dress here and didn’t tell me?”

She had to wipe her eyes. “Oh, Susie; you’re too much!”

I got serious. “Don’t worry, Aunt Margaret. I fully intend to follow Cindy’s lead; I think she dresses great and as long as it doesn’t bug her, I’d love to use her as my fashion model.”

“Great! And it’s what girls do, you know. You walk through the mall and the groups of girls walking in twos and threes, most of the time they’re in the same basic outfits, maybe different colors.”

I realized she was right. In my mind’s eye I could see girls with three different pastel tops over white camis with jeans, or a couple of Goth girls in off-the-rack Hot Topics stuff, or three girls in flirty skirts and tops. “I know exactly what you mean, Aunt Margaret. I think I’d seem even more like a normal girl if I dressed similar to Cindy.”

She grinned. “Good girl. I’ll tell you what–next time we go to the mall, we’ll explore a bit more. Maybe visit Victoria’s Secret or even Frederick’s of Hollywood?”

It took me a moment to realize she was serious. I was amazed at how open she was. “I’d love it!” I hugged her again. “But I think I’m probably a J. Crew or Gap kind of girl. You know; Hollister, American Eagle, Abercrombie and Fitch?”

“I think you are, too, honey, but a girl can still have fun playing dress up! And we’ll get your purse, too. Well, you go to sleep, and sleep in; you’ll need it after today. I’m going to the drug store tomorrow for some odds and ends, and I’ll get your prescription filled. So, go to sleep, girl.”

The prescription! I’d almost forgotten about it, and my shot, and everything else besides fitting in with the family. I hugged and kissed Aunt Margaret good night; she turned my light out and I lay back there, my mind whirling, my five senses remembering. I saw the huge needle Dr. Janssen had used; felt the fabric of the first bra I could call my own; heard my uncle at dinner say, ‘After you, ladies’; tasted the lip gloss I’d applied in the rest room; smelled the Sunwater cologne; and thought about the eyes of that cute dark-haired waiter. And I slept.

Chapter 25: Meeting The Men

It was after ten when I woke up; I lay in bed stretching and rolling from side to side. I felt great. Actually, my hips were still a little sore, probably from those shots; Dr. Janssen had said it might be awhile. I swung my legs out of bed and found my slippers, then stood up to go down to the bathroom. Suddenly I remembered what Aunt Margaret had said last night, and I wasn’t sure if I should go down in my nightgown–which would look pretty silly if everyone was already up–or get dressed. I decided to get dressed, and keeping in mind what she’d said about not being too feminine in my dress, I chose some sand-colored denim shortalls over a purple t-shirt. It had cap sleeves and was cropped, but the shortalls would cover my tummy so it wouldn’t be too girly. Underneath, of course, I was wearing my new panties (these were lavender) and a new bra. I figured it would be best not to wear any jewelry or makeup. I was worried about my newly pierced ears closing up, but I took the studs out anyway.

I headed downstairs to use the bathroom and eat; the place seemed deserted. After washing my face and brushing my hair (I decided not to use the scrunchie), I went to the kitchen to get a yogurt. While I was sitting there, Chuck came in and passed me without stopping, calling ‘Sleepyhead’ over his shoulder. Hmm! That was no big deal. As I was washing the spoon, Uncle Jack came in with gunk over his hands.

“Great! Uh ...Susan, could you get the water on and warm?”

“Sure,” I said, and thought that he’d only taken a second to remember my name.

As he washed, he said, “Margaret and Cindy are picking up things at the store; they should be back anytime. Do you have anything planned?”

“Not really. Aunt Margaret told me to sleep in today, although I feel guilty doing it. So until they get back I don’t have anything planned.”

“Wanna help with the carburetor?” he said with a chuckle and a raised eyebrow.

I didn’t know how much of a joke this was, or if it was a test. “Um, thanks, but I’ve got some cleaning to do before they get back.”

He nodded, looking at me as if he’d expected that answer. “S’okay. Didn’t think you’d ...aw, hell, this is awkward, you know?”

I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. Maybe it won’t be awkward for long ...?”

“Hope so. Well, you’re the way you are and I’m the way I am ...I don’t know.” He’d finished washing; I handed him a towel. “Thanks. Well, looking at you in the light of day–”

“I hope it’s not too ‘girly’,” I said, looking down at my shortalls. “Aunt Margaret said I should take it easy–”

“Now why on earth would she say something like that? In for a penny, in for a pound, I’d say. Look, Susan, it’ll take me awhile to get used to this, but trying to dress half boy and half girl isn’t going to help things. Just dress like ...well, like a girl. You know, like Cindy, I guess. Unless you want to drop this whole thing?”

“It’s not something I can drop,” I said uneasily.

He nodded and smiled sadly. “I know. I shouldn’t try to test you. I think it’s fairly well established that this is the way you are.”

“Yeah. It’s not the easiest way to live, but it’s me. And knowing the problems it causes, I’d be nuts to choose this if I could avoid it. But I can’t. I’m a girl, and as awkward as it is, I’ve got to be me. You know, like the song?” I took the towel from him, folded it and put it on the rack next to the sink.

“Yeah, I know the song.” He pointed at the folded towel. “Now, see, that’s what I mean. A boy would never do that; you just naturally act like a girl.”

“It isn’t acting–”

He held up a hand and grinned sheepishly. “Poor choice of words on my part. I mean, I’m beginning to think it’s genuine with you.”

My spirits raised. “Oh, it is, Uncle Jack, it is!”

Chuck came back through with a magazine. “Got it. Here’s the specs we need,” he said, showing a page to his father. “Larry told me he’d found ...” his voice trailed off as he remembered what had happened.

His father’s voice was soft.“I know, Chuck. Don’t dwell on it. He’ll be okay.” Then, more normally, “So, what did he say?”

My uncle and cousin continued their conversation as they walked back out to the garage, ‘leaving the girl in the kitchen to clean up’. I could see how women resented the treatment, but at this point I was glad he’d accepted me a little more. Well, since he’d said there wasn’t a problem dressing, I went back up and put on my necklace and a ring that I’d liked. I also decided to be risky and put in the little gold hoops I’d received yesterday, rationalizing that I needed to clean the studs. I loved the hoops; they made my ears look so pretty, and every time they caught the light they reminded me that I was a pretty girl with pierced ears. I added some light makeup, a lick of lipgloss, a spritz of Sunwater and went back downstairs, then decided to see if Bonnie was around.

I found her in back of their cabin, playing with Hannah. They looked so pretty together, and I felt a flash of irritation that I hadn’t been born a genetic girl, but it passed quickly and just strengthened my resolve to continue forward with my life as a girl. I sat on a patio chair next to them and we just had some chitchat about Hannah, and Bonnie wanted to know how things were going with Uncle Jack and Chuck. She was surprised they seemed to be taking it so well, but told me that I looked so natural it was hard to think of me as anything else but a girl.

I asked if I could email my folks; she said it was okay and reminded me there was an email from last night. She said it was cool if I went to the computer alone. I read my parents’ email; it was actually pretty brief and was now old news–it was about talking with Dr. Janssen and ‘sending the materials’, referring to whatever was in my file. I smiled at how it had worked out so quickly, and didn’t mind the sore hips.

I wrote a pretty long email to my parents, trying to detail everything. I reread it and was on the verge of trashing it because I thought it sounded a little wishy-washy, then I realized that my writing had changed a bit and seemed more feminine. I was using more descriptive words like cute, and once even used darling to describe the buttons on a sundress. Was that too much like a drag queen, I wondered? But the dress was darling …I decided to keep the girlish tone–after all, that’s what I was, right?–and went back to edit just a little here and there–taking out a ‘fabulous’ and two ‘fantastics’–and then sent it off. I signed it as Susan, of course. I went back on the porch to find Cindy had joined Bonnie and Hannah; I hadn’t realized how close to lunch time it was so after a bit Cindy and I headed home for lunch.

Aunt Margaret was a little surprised at how I was dressed. “Sue, don’t you think it might cause problems when Jack or Chuck see you?”

“They already did, Aunt Margaret. I just wore the shortalls and top, no makeup or jewelry or anything else, but Uncle Jack said ‘dressing half-boy and half-girl’ would only be confusing, and if I was a girl I might as well dress like a girl–like Cindy, he said. He said go all the way so everyone could get used to things quicker.”

“He said that? Wow! Maybe he’s more evolved than we thought!” My aunt and I chuckled.

“I went back upstairs and added some jewelry and a little makeup but that’s about it. But I think you gave me great advice to follow Cindy’s lead.”

We both looked over at Cindy, who was ignoring us and reading a new teen magazine. She was wearing a short tie-dyed t-shirt and cut-offs. She looked up at us, confused.

“What? What did I do?”

“Nothing, dear,” her mother said. “Just that you’re a pretty good role model for Susan to follow.”

“Doan wanna be no role model; no, ma’am,” Cindy said with an exaggerated accent. “Jes’ wanna be myssef.”

We all laughed at how lousy her accent was, whatever it was. I got a drink of water and my aunt handed me two pill bottles.

“That water just reminded me. I picked up your prescription this morning. There’s a couple of pills you’ll have to take twice a day, so I hope you’re good at swallowing pills.”

“Never had a problem, thank goodness. Let’s see, what do I do?”

I read the labels, shook out two from one bottle and one from another, and washed them all down with another glass of water. I turned to see Aunt Margaret and Cindy both watching me. I was kind of embarrassed, so I made a joke. I looked down at my chest and gave a disappointed moan.

“Oh, darn it! They didn’t work! I’m still flat!”

Cindy whooped and Aunt Margaret hid an embarrassed laugh behind her hand and the weirdness of the moment was broken. We decided to keep the pills with me upstairs just in case my uncle or cousin had a change of heart and tossed them out; I’d take my dosage downstairs with me to the water. It was fine with me; just as long as I could take the pills. I had to completely put them out of my mind; I really didn’t know what they were or what they’d do because Dr. Janssen had said they’d be running a blind test. My aunt also gave me a new journal to keep notes in about how I felt day by day, because that would help with the test. But secretly I felt I was on my way!

End of Part 9