I knew that I would be just like the girls I knew, excited and proud of my new bumps when they came–and I’d probably a pain in the neck about them, like other girls. They would make me a target for male eyes, too, and I still wasn’t sure where that thought was going, so I shelved it for the moment. I just knew that I was so looking forward to the first time I placed a snugly-fitting bra over my very own breasts!

The Cabin - Part 8

Chapter 21: My Birthday Idea

The next day was my thirteenth birthday. It had been in the back of my mind for awhile–especially once all the changes started–and decided that not only was it a bridge from ‘pre-teen’ to ‘teenage’, but from boy to girl. For some fuzzy reason, I decided to make the transition during the day so everyone could see and share the change. So, the night before I dug around and found some of my old clothes–Stuart’s old clothes–and wore an old t-shirt and shorts to sleep. Although I knew that many girls wore the same thing, I knew these were definitely boy’s clothes, and the clothes still felt rough and weird after my recent nights in a nightgown. I knew that I’d return to nighties from that next night on, and I felt better.

I went downstairs to see everybody already up and sitting around the table. They’d finished breakfast but were sitting around with coffee or juice. They turned towards me with smiles, which got kind of strained when they saw me. My aunt came up to me.

“Are you ...okay?” she asked hesitantly.

I smiled at her and touched her upper arm. “Of course, Aunt Margaret. You mean the way I’m dressed?”

“Yes, well ...are you ...I don’t know what to say. Uh, besides …‘happy birthday’, I guess.”

I hadn’t figured on such confusion. “Technically, my birthday will be around 1:34 this afternoon, when I was born. I thought I’d combine my last morning as a twelve-year old with my last morning as a ‘boy’,” I grinned, using ‘air quotes’ with my fingers.

Her face changed quickly to a smile, then a frown. “That’s wonderful, honey ...I mean, have you told anyone?”

“No. Truth be told, I didn’t think it up until late last night.”

“Well, be prepared for weirdness, then.” She gave me a knowing look and led the way to the breakfast table.

My uncle looked at me over the rim of his coffee cup. “Rejoining the superior race?”

Chuck looked over at him and slowly ‘got it’, following his father’s lead. “Yeah! Cool! Now you can cut that faggy hair!”

I glanced at my aunt; she was tight-lipped with anger. She placed a glass of orange juice in front of me, and I looked over at Cindy, who seemed anxious.

I took a sip of the juice, then broke the silence. “I didn’t think this would weird everybody out. I just thought I would …just spend my last morning as a twelve-year old and as a ‘boy’.” I did the air quote thing again.

There was a pause, then my uncle said, “Did you mean ...spend your last morning as a boy, too? Did I understand that correctly?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered him respectfully.

He stared at me for a moment.

I knew that it had gone horribly wrong. I sagged. “Gee, I thought it would be, kinda like …that was then, this is now, you know? I’ve just spent all the years leading up to being a teenager trying to–pretending to–be a boy. Now I don’t have to pretend, so at 1:34 this afternoon, I put the fake boy and tween years behind.”

Cindy said, “And you become a teenage girl. Makes sense to me!” She grinned her support.

I said, “I really didn’t want to weird everybody out. I thought you’d laugh, actually.”

My uncle said, “Not in the laughing mood.”

“I understand, sir,” I nodded, my head down in shame.

Cindy said, “Daddy, do you think she looks like a boy? I get what she was trying to do.”

He was still staring at me. “Last morning as a boy?” he repeated in a murmur. Then he nodded. “Fine,” and got up to go out.

Chuck looked from me to his dad, back to me, then to his mom, then got up and followed his dad, echoing, “Fine.”

My aunt let out a ‘whoosh’ of breath. “That was ...a different breakfast.”

Cindy burst out laughing. “Geez, Sue, what did you think they’d do?”

My aunt set down some melon and toast as I said, “I really thought it was obvious. But it was a really bad idea I had late at night. I just thought–”

“You just thought you needed a rite of passage, huh?” asked Aunt Margaret.

I nodded.

She smiled. Then her face changed and she looked off with a sigh. “So many societies, cultures …Like the, what were they, the Okiek, and, oh …in Papua, was it the Sambia? Oh dear; I’ve forgotten most of what I used to know.” She motioned to my food. “Eat your breakfast, honey, while I try to remember.”

She poured another cup of coffee and joined us at the table, and began a surprisingly detailed explanation of tribal rites of passage among Pacific Rim tribes, then among African tribesmen (and women), then among the Kwakiutl Indians of North America. Whew! If she truly had forgotten most of what she used to know, she must have been a mega-brain! Cindy zoned out the first time my aunt switched continents, so after she got up to rinse out her glass, she drifted out to the porch while I stayed glued to the table with my aunt. Listening to her was like I’d hit the anthropology web page jackpot on the Net!

My aunt paused to reheat her coffee–she’d only taken one sip before her lecture–and then switched to changes of sex or gender among North American Indians, talking about shamans and people called ‘berdaches’. Finally she wound down with, “And that brings us around full circle to you!” Then she took her second sip of coffee.

I stared at her for a moment, then said, “Good thing I didn’t wear the work shirt and jeans!”

She cracked up, reached out and patted my arm, and looked at me appraisingly for a moment. She said, “So you’re to be Susan, right? No looking back?”

“No looking back,” I said with a smile. “I’m Susan, now and forever. A girl.” Then I grinned hugely. “Like a girl puppy–I’ve got my shots and papers to prove it!”

Chapter 22: Doing the Mall

Then my aunt said those three words every girl loves to hear: ‘Let’s go shopping!’

Actually, she said, “I think we’re all agreed that your rite of passage–at least the ‘boy’ portion–has made its point. Time to dress like you want, and maybe we’ll do a spot of shopping?”

What happened next was an absolute whirlwind, and I had never been so happy and excited for so long a time. My aunt had been planning it all out, and it went like clockwork. Cindy pretty much handed me what to wear, reminding me that the purpose was to make things easy to change while we shopped for my new clothes. Still, I was thrilled to be wearing a simple denim skirt and sandals with a pretty sleeveless yellow blouse with little sprigs of white flowers. Cindy dressed, quickly brushed my hair and we did jewelry and a bit of lipgloss and ran down to join my aunt.

The guys were happy in the garage, of course, so ‘we ladies’ went to Crescent Beach Mall, and to my surprise the first thing Aunt Margaret did was lead us into a Barnes Noble bookstore. We followed her to the magazine section and picked out the newest teen fashion magazines besides the ones Cindy got–and especially ones about hairstyles. I hadn’t even known they had whole magazines with nothing but hairstyles! Then we headed to the Food Court and got some smoothies–with some extra protein powder thrown in–and sat down. I was nearly itching with anticipation, but Aunt Margaret said we needed extra fuel for a good shopping spree, and we needed to look through the magazines picking out hair and clothing styles that might suit me.

When we were done, she took us to a salon and introduced me to Carol, the owner. Aunt Margaret had already talked to Carol about me and confirmed the appointment while she’d been waiting for Larry to wake up. I was amazed at her efficiency, but then I thought about how efficient my father was, and they were brother and sister–the anthropology lecture this morning should have reminded me of how sharp they were! Aunt Margaret and Cindy were going to do some shopping and would come back for me, so I was on my own. I was scared at first that Carol might discover that I wasn’t a real girl, but apparently she already knew or didn’t care–but she did tell me that I was very pretty, and my heart soared! Carol took me under her wing and introduced me to Kim, a pretty Japanese girl, who would attend to everything that Carol didn’t handle personally.

First we discussed the cut based on one of the magazine pictures we’d chosen, as they took strands of my hair and moved them this way and that. Kim opened a style portfolio on my lap, and we selected a fairly basic style that was similar to the magazine, and that would look great down, up, tied back, whatever. Our choices were somewhat limited because although my hair was down to my shoulders, it was really just a boy’s cut that had grown out, and there wasn’t enough overall hair to get really stylish. The cut we selected would trim a bit for split ends and evenness, and would grow out nicely and I would never again look like a long-haired boy.

Kim shampooed me and then it turned out they’d decided to lighten my hair; it was pretty much dirty blond, and now I would be a true blonde. I was excited and a bit apprehensive about that. While Carol did the coloring, Kim attended to my nails, tut-tutting at how amateurishly they’d been done. She worked on the cuticles while we discussed acrylic nails, but decided there was good strength and a bit of length in my own nails; they would be short but just needed shaping. I could always go with acrylics later; I was glad we delayed because it was summer and shorter nails seemed to make more sense. Also, I wasn’t sure I could use my fingers very well with long nails and wanted to ease into it. We talked about nail polish colors, and although Kim didn’t care for the brand of polish I’d used, she said it was a good color choice for my age and coloring. She put some fantastic professional polish on, with the same bluish shimmer that looked like expensive mother-of-pearl. I told her I wanted to buy a bottle, and she said I could, but only after she taught me how to apply it properly. So I studied her technique, and realized again just how little I knew about even basic things and how much I had to learn.

Carol brought up the subject of pierced ears; I told her they were almost more than I could wish for. She replied, “Wish away!” and pulled out a gadget. First she sterilized my lobes and then shot me with the gadget. There was a rubbery feeling and a ‘pop’ sound and that moment of pain was worth it–I had pierced ears! She told me about hygiene with my new gold studs, and gave me a pair of small hoops to put in later; it was a 2-for-1 package deal, she said. Next she studied my forehead and I realized she was analyzing my eyebrows. She spread some goop on them, and I startled and let out a little ‘yow!’ as she ripped and then tweezed and so my brows were shaped, too. I began wondering how much all this was costing Aunt Margaret, then remembered that my parents had sent money for all this, so I might as well relax and enjoy it!

The coloring was done, the cut proceeded, and I felt deliciously feminine and pampered. If this was what ‘going to the beauty parlor’ meant, then no wonder why it meant so much to so many women! What was frustrating was that Carol and Kim wouldn’t let me see the mirror; I could get a glimpse from shiny surfaces here and there but the two of them were working on me and moving around so I couldn’t see myself clearly.

After an eternity of comb-outs, snipping strays, patting and pushing and poufing, they stood back and looked at me. I figured they were pleased because they looked at each other and smiled, then spun my chair a bit and cleared the path to the mirror. I was shocked, stunned ...I didn’t have enough words to say it. I was pretty! Well, more than pretty, if I was honest about it–I looked great! My hair was sunny blonde now, and was in a simple style that swept up from a side part. But it flowed out and down toward my chin and had a nice clean line below the collar, and, and–it just looked great! My eyebrows …were a girl’s eyebrows; they started farther away from my nose and just flowed in a graceful thin arch and made my eyes look huge–and feminine. Since they didn’t do anything to my eyes, of course, I realized my eyes had always looked like that–like a girl’s eyes.

That thought made me pause for a moment, remembering Dr. Jansen’s thick file–just how feminine was Stuart, and why had I not known? I put the thought away and went back to staring at–the girl in the mirror.

The hair and nails and eyebrows were great, but best of all were the two gold studs winking at me from my newly pierced ears. As I moved my hands to my hair, the light caught the new nail polish and I just had to marvel at how pretty I was! I told them how pleased I was, and Carol pointed out that since I didn’t have a lick of makeup on, imagine how great I’d look once I was made up. That was almost too much to contemplate. The most important thing was that there was no way on earth anyone would see me and think I was a boy. Even if I wore the ‘work shirt and jeans’ that I’d teased Aunt Margaret about, I would look like a girl.

I heard gasps from behind me and Kim swung me around to see Aunt Margaret and Cindy, who loved my hair style and the whole job–Cindy was squealing with glee and bouncing up and down while my aunt just beamed. I could also detect a little sadness in her smile, and I think it was because this is how I should have been all along; I should have been born a girl and we all knew it.

My aunt settled up with Carol and Kim–and I couldn’t resist hugging them when I thanked them–and told me that they’d stuck their purchases in the car and now it was my turn. I felt so much more a real girl now, and I’m afraid I might have been too obvious checking out my reflection in anything shiny. Cindy punched my arm playfully and said, “Lots better than a regular boy’s cut, huh?” and we got a giggle attack.

My aunt smiled at us.“Susan, there’s no way–absolutely no way–that anyone will believe that you haven’t been a real girl all of your life, unless you tell them. And even then, they probably won’t believe you. So when we go into these stores, you can be totally confident that no one will suspect your secret, okay?”

I nodded and just had to hug her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m so happy right now I can’t believe there’s more to come!”

Cindy laughed. “Has to be! It’s your birthday, Sue! Girls share clothes, but you can’t go on wearing my things. Remember what we talked about having our own style? Well, yours starts today.”

We headed for a department store and decided to start with the ‘inner girl’ by a trip to the Juniors’ lingerie section. I was dazzled at the selection of bras, panties, nighties, camisoles, and everything else, and deferred to my aunt’s knowledge. We bought many pairs of panties in all colors; mostly bikini and some ‘boy-cut’. She bought a couple of training bras–which really excited me–in cotton but also in satin. Some undershirts, some camisoles, and some nighties completed the purchase; my aunt told the clerk an easy lie about ‘the airlines losing her niece’s luggage’. That’s right, I realized; I’m definitely a niece now! I’d have to get used to the pronoun changes, as well, like ‘she’ and ‘her’ and loved hearing them. So much to learn and remember!

Fortunately for us, Lingerie and the regular Juniors section were on two different areas on the same floor so we wouldn’t arouse suspicions by buying so many clothes at once, even with the luggage story. My aunt said she’d called the credit department ahead of time, informing them that there would be some major purchasing done. She didn’t miss a trick! She asked me what I’d like to wear while I was changing; I realized she meant I could wear some of my new lingerie. We chose a very light yellow pair of panties and Aunt Margaret handed me the cotton training bra. I looked at her guiltily but she smiled and said I might as well start getting used to it–I was a growing teenaged girl and I would be wearing bras. I went into a Ladies’ restroom to change and realized that I’d never been in one before. It was a lounge? With a couch? Great mirrors and shelves? Wow!

My aunt was amused at my awe, and handed me the packages with my new underthings. She’d even brought a bag for my current underclothes–which were Cindy’s, really. I went into a stall, found that I had to pee, then changed. To pull on panties that were brand new and totally mine was ecstasy, and putting on the bra was a whole new thrill. I’d worn the top of Cindy’s two-piece, but this was more intimate and feminine and mine! Then I pulled on my skirt and buttoned my blouse and came out, washed, checked my hair and once more marveled at Carol’s work. Then we headed off to the Juniors section.

Of course, I wanted absolutely everything, but we’d been talking about starting slowly with essentials and focusing on summer clothes–no velvet evening gowns yet!–and not try to do it all in one trip. My aunt joked that the car couldn’t hold much more, anyway. It seems like I did, in fact, try absolutely everything on. We bought a number of tops in a number of colors and styles; we bought shorts and some jeans; we bought a cute little white sweater; we bought denim skirts and some sun dresses–I had a special love for sun dresses already–and finally two swim suits of my very own. One was a hot pink racing-back suit, and the other was a blue Hawaiian print bikini that I was really excited about. Since I’d felt ‘numb’ most of my life, I couldn’t say ‘I’d wanted a bikini all of my life’ but the feeling was there, waiting to be discovered, and I wondered what else I’d discover was laying dormant in me.

We told them to hold everything–my aunt had done the same story about lost luggage–while we went to the shoe department. I got some low white sneakers; some sandals, including white strappies with a heel; some flats; a pair of mules; and some slippers. Whew!

I was swamped with all the variety, learning so many new words–like ‘strappies’–but also clothing concepts or subdivisions or whatever they were called, that I’d never dreamed of–like pretty, feminine panties that were actually called ‘boy-cut’? And ‘boardwalk, city, Bermuda, Hampton, Daisy Dukes, and walking’ were just some types of shorts–not to mention skorts and culottes!

By the end, it took all three of us two trips to the car to get it all in. Thank goodness my cousins had a station wagon or we’d never have gotten everything in there! We’d decided to do ‘one-stop shopping’ at the department store and maybe some time later come back to visit other stores and boutiques, but this was more than enough for one day and we were exhausted.

Once we were on our way, my aunt and Cindy surprised me yet again. I suddenly thought about, well, ‘girl’ things like soap and deodorant, as well as makeup, and mentioned that. It turned out that while Carol and Kim were working their magic, Cindy had helped my aunt pick up some basic toiletries, makeup, and a makeup brush kit, so I supposed I was ready. One other thing: Cindy had realized I’d need to take everything home with me and my aunt had found two flattened rolling duffel bags that should hold all of my new things at the end of summer. Their thoughtfulness overwhelmed me and I got teary while thanking them, and wished that I could do something for them in return. My aunt told me ‘just be the best girl you can be.’ I did get to do a cool thing: When I was trying on swim suits, Cindy fell in love with a green halter-top two-piece, and so I asked Aunt Margaret if we could add it to my bill. That earned me a smile and hug from my aunt and a big hug from Cindy. It felt nice to do it for her; besides, I thought, that’s what girlfriends do for each other.

Chapter 23: Out To Dinner

We drove straight back home in the early evening, too tired to talk, and decided to take Uncle Jack and Chuck out to dinner if they’d clean up. I thought it was maybe a strategic move; Aunt Margaret reminded me it was my birthday, but then she told me it was also important to bond the family back together, as much as we could while poor Larry was still in the hospital. When we pulled into the driveway, neither my uncle or cousin were anywhere to be seen. We pulled the first load of bags into the cabin, and a note on the kitchen table said they were a couple of cabins away, ‘checking out a new outboard’. Cindy grinned and asked if I wanted to join them; I was too tired to punch her arm so I just grinned back and shook my head.

Aunt Margaret chuckled and said that it was for the best that they were away, so they couldn’t razz us about how many bags we had. We got all the bags in the cabin, and got them sorted by owner. Needless to say, I had a ton of new clothes to put away, and it was all casual clothes that folded neatly. I’d tried most of them on at the store, but my aunt told me to quickly try on the other and gave me a seam ripper to remove tags if they fit, and I had a whole bag of tags and stuffing from the clothes. It was while I was removing the tag from one of the nighties that it hit me–these were all mine! No scruffy jeans, sweaty t-shirts, heavy boots. No boy clothes; they were all girl clothes. Wow! If I hadn’t been sitting on my bed the thought would have floored me. There was a very small desk with a mirror over it that Cindy had used as a vanity last year. Looking in the mirror, I saw a pretty blonde girl holding up her lingerie. Amazing. After a few minutes, as the impact sunk in, I continued putting things away. I couldn’t believe it; I had a lingerie drawer! And a vanity–however small, it was a start.

I went through the bags of toiletries that my aunt and Cindy had gotten and put things away. I noticed that Cindy had picked up the same kind of makeup she’d used on me, so we each had our own set, in slightly different colors. That was cool. I arranged the brushes and makeup paraphernalia, and a little cosmetics bag that came with it all would do for holding my feminine toiletries–I wanted to say it over and over: ‘My Feminine Toiletries’–when I took a shower. Finally, I arranged the shoes, mostly sandals and flats, in the tiny closet and sat back on the bed, giddy but exhausted. But I had to see what was up, so I headed downstairs. My hips were a little sore from where I’d had the shots, and I thought about what the hormones might do to me. In the activity of the day I’d completely forgotten about my visit with the doctor.

I nearly made it to the kitchen before running into Aunt Margaret, who shooed me upstairs.

“Quick, Sue, don’t let them see you!”

“Why not?” I asked, worried, as I walked back upstairs.

“Not in casual clothes or they’ll use it as an excuse to not get dressed up! We’re going out to dinner at Malone’s for your birthday, not that they deserve it,” she mock-grumbled. “They’re hitting the shower now. Meanwhile, you get dressed in, um, how about that sundress with the big cabbage roses?”

She’d named the sundress that was my favorite of the day’s purchases; Malone’s was a steak house and you had to be a little dressy. I immediately began thinking about which shoes would match; probably the white strappy sandals, but I didn’t know if I trusted myself walking in low heels yet. I had to chuckle how quickly I’d gone into the feminine role, immediately thinking about matching shoes! I went into my room, sat at my vanity–that’s what I was going to call it–and used some astringent to clean my face. I didn’t need to do anything with my hair, and I didn’t really know how to apply makeup yet, so I took off my clothes, put them in the hamper and stood for a moment in my bedroom wearing only my bra and panties. It felt good. It felt more than good; it felt right. After not knowing who or what I was for so long, I finally knew who and what I was and was going to be from now on–Susan, a bright, pretty teenaged girl.

I pulled the sundress out of the closet and pulled it over my head, taking care not to ruffle my hair, although it was such a great style it would look good no matter what. I sat on the bed and tried on the white strappies, and began tentatively walking around my room when Cindy knocked. I told her to come in, and she stared at me.

“What are you doing? Practicing for Miss America?” she laughed.

“No, just practicing walking, thank you very much. It’s harder than I thought!”

She reached out to steady me as I tipped slightly. She was wearing a lovely rose shell with spaghetti straps under a darker rose sweater, and a dark gray skirt. I noticed she had low heels, too. She noticed my noticing.

“Yeah, I know, but you get used to it with practice. Tell you what, walk over there and face me.”

I followed her instructions, tipping and swaying a bit.

“Okay, now look right in my face, say the Pledge of Allegiance, and walk to me.”

“Are you nuts? Why the Pledge of Allegiance?”

“No, I’m not nuts and just do what I say.”

Feeling foolish, I looked her right in the eye and said the whole “I pledge allegiance ...” and walked right up to her without any problems whatsoever.

I stared at her. “Wow! Genius! Where’d you learn that?”

“Mom made me do a few months of modeling school until Daddy said it cost too much. But I learned some tricks; that was one of ‘em. You were just concentrating too hard. Nobody can look at their feet, think about each step, and walk naturally! The trick is to just forget about it, keep your eyes forward and keep good posture, and do it.”

I tried it a few more times back and forth, and she was right; it was far easier than I’d thought. Plus, I could feel the slight tightening in my calves from the low heel, and began dreaming about how high heels would really make my legs look great ...

Cindy had come to help me with makeup. Just minimal, some powder, blush, mascara and lipgloss. I didn’t look ‘made up’ but I did look even prettier, and wasn’t that the whole point? She’d found a bottle of Sunwater for me and I giggled when she sprayed me, telling me the best places to put scent.

“Why’d you giggle?” she asked as she added a dab to her locket spot.

“Just that …the first time Chuck saw me–when he came back, I mean–I had this on. I probably smelled like you.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Allowing for different body chemistry, yeah, I think you’re right. Probably weirded him out.”

“And that’s why I giggled,” I explained.

She gave me a wicked look. “Probably majorly scrambled some of his circuits–what circuits he has! Guys have no idea how powerful scent is.”

I nodded. “Might be partially why he seemed to accept me as Susan so quickly.”

“He accepted you as Susan so quickly because you are Susan,” Cindy said simply. Then she smiled at me and reached in her pocket and pulled out the gold chain necklace she’d loaned me.

“Here. I want you to have it.”

“Oh, Cindy, I couldn’t ...”

“Of course you can. Yeah, you can go to the mall and buy one of your own, but I wanted you to have this one, from me. It looked so good on you when you first put it on, and I just think you should have it.”

“Oh, Cindy ...” I reached out and hugged her. I’d probably done more hugging in the last few days than I’d done my entire life, but that’s what girls do, I thought. And I was glad to do it. And it felt right.

We could hear Aunt Margaret calling, ‘Cindy! Susie!’ from downstairs. It was such a thrill to hear my name called loudly and openly. I grabbed my little white sweater and we walked down, Cindy in the lead, to see the two guys in light sweaters and slacks, their hair still wet from their showers. Without any exaggeration, I can truthfully say they were speechless when they saw me. I mean, literally; their mouths opened and closed twice before they could say anything.

“Susie! You’re ...really pretty!” Uncle Jack said, shocked at himself. “It’s hard to believe you ever were a boy!”

“Jack!” Aunt Margaret said, reprovingly.

I clenched inwardly and wondered if Chuck had noticed the slip-up. Instead, my uncle corrected himself.

“Oh come on, you know what I mean! Hard to believe she ever tried to be a boy! Is that better?” he said, turning to my aunt. “Geez, grammar coach!”

She nodded. “Not only right, that’s the truth. Chuck, what’s the matter with you?”

Chuck was still staring.

I stood with my hands demurely folded together in front of my lap, and leaned forward slightly. “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.

End of Part 8