Like I put in the blog, this is how Through the years began in my head, but then I went back and started on Troy's life as a kid and it moved away from ever reaching this point. So this is in no way a part of Through the years, but all the characters names haven't been changed.

Please enjoy

It had started like any other normal day. Troy Patterson had been up before his alarm, and had been out the door to his first job with half an hour to spare. He always left before his wife, one of the disadvantages to having two jobs. Sure, they didn't really need the third income anymore, not with her being an Optometrist, but when he had his eye on a motorcycle and she refused help pay for something something she didn't agree on, he was forced to get a job if he really wanted it. That was a couple years back and after it was paid for, he kept the job, saving the money in case something big came up. One never knew when they'd need a new sailboat to travel the great lakes with.

So with an early morning delivery job, along with his massage therapist job he kept the money coming in. He also had a few select clients that didn't see him at the day spa he worked at in the afternoons. It was good money, and the work wasn't too hard. Plus a lot of the time he was driving and that always pleased him.

The sun had begun to set by time he left his second job and was headed north on state road 53 in his silver Chevy Tahoe in the Detroit Metro area, passing the small town of Utica as he headed home in Romeo MI. Just as the road turned into a highway his phone rang. He flipped open his earpiece and looked at the phone. It was an out of state number, and he was not sure who it was.

“This is Troy Patterson, How can I help you today?” He said cordially into the phone. With his massage therapist job, it always paid to be polite, not that he could pull off being mean without feeling guilty about hurting someone's feelings.

A computerized voice came over the line. “Hello, this is the Butte Country Correctional System, you have a call from” The voice stopped and his brothers voice came on the line. “Vance Patterson.” The voice came back and offered to him the choice of picking up or not. He accepted the call and waited a second. “Hello Vance.”

“This is all your fault!” His brothers voice dripped with anger as he almost spit the words out.

“What? Traffic?” Troy asked as he passed a string of slow moving people. "Sorry, but I didn't put these people out here in this blizzard."

“You know what I'm fucking talking about!” The angry man snapped back.

Troy's usually calm attitude cracked slightly. But he fought to hold it back and kept talking, trying to figure out what his bother meant. He had a good idea, but he needed to be sure. Why admit you're guilty till you know what the charges are. “Actually, Vance, no I don't. If this is something about Oroville, I haven't talked to anyone in a couple of months, not since right around Christmas. So try again and tell me what's happened, I'm in traffic and it's snowing heavily and I've been moving for more then fourteen hours now.”

“Your fucking fetish! You and your dresses” Vance snarled. “Now my Son thinks he's a girl!”

Troy tried to feign surprise, but he knew that this would be coming. He had been talking to the nephew in question for some time now. In fact it had been Troy who brought told the boy to really open up to his therapist. “Wait...what?” Troy asked, hoping his bother wouldn't be none the wiser.

“Oh no you don't.” Vance replied. “He told me that you've been talking to him. You sent him to that quack!”

Troy shook his head as he pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway, sliding a bit on the ice. He sighed and he put the truck into park, turned on his hazzards and he leaned back in his seat. “Okay, you're right. I knew. I didn't send him to anyone, that was his choice. But I knew he was going to talk to the therapist about it.”

“This is your fault. Bad enough you wear dresses, but now you got to have my son doing it?!? Are you that sick! You get some sort of sick pleasure in him thinking he's a girl like you thought you could be?!?” Vance was quiet for a moment as Troy began to count backwards from twenty in his mind. As he reached ten, Vance spoke up again. “Well Freak? You enjoy seeing little boys dress up as girls?!?”

As he reached five, he began to speak aloud. “Five, four three two one.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting to collect his thoughts. As he let the breath out, he opened his eyes and began speaking in a forced, calm voice. His usual casual exterior began to crack even more. “First of all, shut up. You're not a therapist, you're just a lowly con stuck in prison for what? The fifth time for breaking parole?. Second, I haven't worn a dress, or any other form of women's clothing in years, since I left home.” That part was a lie, but it wasn't common knowledge.

He took another deep breath and began drumming his fingers on his knee. “Third, your child is hurting. With you forcing your personal views on him and Dad not being much better, he's got no one in his corner. He...excuse me, SHE, is scared and is trying to feel right in HER own skin.”

“So you just thought you'd tell HIM it was alright for a BOY to wear a dress!?!” Vance snarled into the phone.

Troy's resolve snapped and his temper flared. “HAVE YOU EVEN TALKED TO HER?!?” After a second or two he continued, his voice much softer. “Oh, that's right, you don't have custody anymore. Something about being a bad parent.”

“Don't you dare!” Vance snapped back. “You don't know what happened!”

Troy took another breath and kept trying to calm himself down. “Vance, there is nothing wrong with her. She's the same person underneath, she was just born wrong.”

“Look, just stay the fuck away from my children!”

“Vance, you lost them. Their not your children anymore. If mom and Dad allow me to see them, then you need to take the fights to them, but after you got busted for child abuse, I doubt the courts will listen to the likes of you.” Troy replied. “How the hell did you hear about this anyway?”

“It doesn't matter.” Vance mumbled into the phone.

“Look, as much as I'd love to keep talking, I don't want a killer phone bill.” Troy said, having gained his composure.

“Look, just leave my child alone!” Vance snarled, regaining his anger.

“Yeah, whatever. As soon as you get custody, I'll leave them alone, till then, shut up and remember why you lost them.” Troy said. “Don't call again until you learn your lesson.” With that he hung up on his brother. He waited a few moments before pulling back on the highway to finish the last twenty miles to home.

He needed to call home, that was now top on his to do list. He needed to hear from his nephew....niece. Well the child in question. As he continued down the road, he began to think back on how it started for little Zachary and how he learned the little boy's big secret.

::::Six years earlier:::

Troy sat on the couch in his parent's house as his wife and mother headed into town. He didn't want part in the shopping that they had planned, and his father was still working. It had taken a few years to get him and his father talking again. Ever since He had found Troy in a dress, during his senior year of High School, their relationship soured. It ended up in a yelling match between the two of them that gave Troy the courage to leave home. He had found himself on the move, finally stopping at the only other relatives who seemed to care. His Grandparents in Michigan.

It hadn't been the first time he had been in a dress. He had been sneaking them out of his mothers closet since he had been seven. At first his bother seemed okay with it, then when Vance hit high school, his attitude towards Troy turned bad and he'd go out of his way to ridicule Troy. Troy had watched Vance slip down the slope from being a good person, to a drug using, thug. He could still recall the first arrest his brother had. He recalled even using that against his father, which made his father utter the words that forced Troy to leave.

"I'd rather have a con for a son, then a fag."

It took him getting married, having a prosperous side business and almost a decade to get Troy back to speaking terms with his father, all the while hiding his clothing fetish from his father.

Now he was back at the house he had left years before, four years after he had first gone to his father with the olive branch held out. Things weren't back to how they were with his father, but it was getting close. With his wife and Mother gone, that left Troy in charge of his nephew and niece. He didn't mind, he viewed it as practice for if he and his wife ever had kids.

After a while the kids had retreated to their rooms, leaving him to play the channel surfing game. He was good at it too. With his two jobs he never watched much daytime TV and now he knew why. He had grown bored. But to his surprise, as he looked at the clock on the wall, only thirty minutes had passed.

He decided to check out what the kids were up to. So he headed down the hall of his parent's house. He knew the rooms well, after all it was where he had grown up. Just outside a little from his nephew's room he could hear a familiar song. It took him a few seconds to recall it. It was an oldie, in Disney standards. He kept walking and looked into the room, jaw dropping in surprise as he took in the scene.

Little six year old Zachary was dressed in a skirt that could have only been from Troy's mother's closet. He danced around the room with his sister, twirling to the song from Cinderella, “So this is love.” The little boy spun and swayed, and Troy stepped back from the door, letting the child have his privacy.

“Is he like me?” Troy thought to himself, as he went down the hall a little. “Or is there more.”

He had experimented wearing womens clothes when he was younger. He recalled seeing a show about men who became women and wondered if that was him. But inside he knew he was a boy, but one that felt comfortable in womens clothing. His wife had even seen him in a skirt,= on many occasions.

He took a breath and shook himself back into reality. He stopped at the end of the hall and called out. “Zachary? Arianna?” He waited a moment as he heard the movie shut off. “I'm grabbing some cookies, if you want some.” With that he turned and headed towards the kitchen.

He waited in the kitchen, box of cookies in hand as the two kids came running in. Arianna, the four year old made it first, her feet slipping on the floor just slightly. She slid to a stop at her uncles feet and bounced slightly. “Cookie?” Her eyes sparkled with glee as she waited for him to hand over a couple of cookies. After she had received her treats, she raced back to her bedroom.

Zachary came up to him, moving slower then his sister, his head down just a bit and he no longer wore his grandmothers skirt. As Troy handed him a couple of cookies, he dropped to one knee and gave Zachary a smile. “Here ya go.”

“Thank you.” He said as he took the cookie.

“Hey, you okay?” Troy asked, as he put a finger under Zach's chin and lifted his head slightly so they could see eye to eye.

“Yeah.” He replied.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Troy asked. "Please?"

"I guess." The little child answered. Troy gestured to a table and pulled out a chair. The little boy hopped up and Troy took his own seat.

“Zachary, I saw you dancing in the bedroom." Troy started. The little boy whipped up his head and tears began to form.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Troy chuckled. "Not from me. If fact I don't mind if you do that." He leaned in a bit closer. "I just wanted to know why you did it?"

"I..." He looked to the floor, then lifted his head enough to quickly look at his Uncle. "Promise you're not mad?"

"I Promise. Cross my heart even." Troy made the heart crossing motion.

It took Zack several moments to gather the courage, when he did, his voice was almost a whisper. "I wanna be a girl."

"A girl?" Troy smiled. He had met several transsexuals through his years in Michigan. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the child. "From what I saw, you'll be a pretty girl."

"Really?" Zach asked.

"I swear to God." Troy replied.

:::Back in the Present:::

Troy pulled into his garage and climbed out of his truck and went into his house. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a glass of water before he placed the important call that he needed to make. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began to dial his parent's house, glad he had kept the earpiece in. While it rang he began preparing dinner for his wife.

He wasn't sure what he'd deal with. Would they blame him, would they even talk to him? He could only hope it would all work out. His thoughts were interrupted once more as a voice sounded in his ear. "Patterson residence, Maggie speaking."

"Hey Mom, it's Troy." He said as he pulled out a large pot.

"Troy!" He could almost hear his mother smile over the phone. "It's been a couple months, figured we wouldn't hear from you until Mothers day."

"Sorry, been busy with making money to put into savings." He replied. "I so need a vacation."

"I can understand that. You know you shouldn't work yourself to death, it doesn't get you anything." His mother offered her sage like advice. "But I'm sure you didn't call about that. What's up?"

"I got a call from Vance today." He stated. "He told me about Zachary and the therapist." Troy knew he could be open with his mother. Aside from his brother and a friend, his mother had also caught him in female clothes. Mostly because they were hers. He had also told her of Zachary's raid on her closet those six years ago, making her laugh and recall when she had found him.

"He called you from the jail?" She asked.

"Yep. Blamed me for making his son wear a dress. He thinks I'm doing this to get a sick thrill out of it." She could hear the fatigue in her Son's voice as he talked. "Mom, level with me, what's going on? I haven't talked to anyone since Christmas when we were out there."

"Well, it's kind of in the air." She replied. "Zachary insisted he wanted to talk to that counselor we had taken him to when we first got him from your brother."

"I recall, that was in what? October?" Troy asked. Out of all of his relations, Zachary was the one he kept in close contact.

"Mid November." Maggie corrected him. "Even since you talked him six years ago, he's wanted to tell your dad, but with Vance hanging out here when he wasn't in jail, he was always afraid."

"Yeah, Vance is such a nice caring person like that." Troy let out a weak chuckle.

"Well in January Zachary told the therapist that he wanted to be a girl, with your father in the room. Your father had to leave the room, but demanded a second opinion when the man said he had gender identity disorder. So we were given the name of a second therapist. A gender Therapist. Your father didn't want to let him go, but I took him anyway., but they were booked up, had to wait till just a couple weeks ago." Maggie replied

“Good for you. I remember him telling me he wanted to be a girl six years ago, that second time we visited after you guys had custody.” It had been a spur of the moment trip and Troy was glad they had taken it. He still could picture Zachary in his mothers skirt, which fit the little boy like a dress.

"You realize he's still has one of Arianna's stuffed animals and he sleeps with it each night?" Maggie asked.

Troy nodded as he pulled pasta out of the pantry, even though she wasn't able to see the action. His mother was one of the few people he had told about Zachary, the other being his wife. "Yeah, he told me, calls it Stripes." He remembered the stuffed toy clearly. A stuffed tiger, from a local zoo.

"Yeah, he loves that thing."

“So Mom, what did the therapist say?” Troy asked after a few moments of silence.

Maggie went quiet for a moment, then her voice softened. "The therapist said he had Gender Identity Disorder. Actually, your fathers not to sure what to think now. The second opinion said the same thing.”

“Well, with the anti gay attitude from his side of the family, I'm not shocked. Hell, for being part Native American, Grandpa was a total racist. ” Troy replied. “So how are you dealing with it?”

“One day at a time.” Maggie sighed. “While he's home I let him be a girl. He can dress how he wants, do girl things with his sister."

"Good, And Dad?"

"There were days that he would stomp off and grumble about it, but I think he's coming around."

"How so?" Troy asked.

"The other day he was watching a war movie and the kids were in their room, playing. Caylie came out in one of new dresses and..."

"Who?" Troy asked. "Wait, is Caylie....I'm guessing a name was picked."

"Yeah. She goes by Caylie Noel Patterson now, when she's at home at least."

“Caylie?” Troy stopped what he was doing, nodding in approval again. “I like it.”

“But she didn't want me to tell you. So if she calls, it's a surprise.”

“No problem Mom. I can act surprised.” Troy gave a little laugh.

“Like at Christmas when you would open gifts and then try to re-tape the paper so you wouldn't get caught.” He heard his mother chuckle and he smiled.

“Just like that. Never did find out how you found out.” Troy replied.

“Mom's just know.” Was her only answer.

“Okay, back to dad watching a movie.” Troy prodded.

"So Caylie comes out and just stands there, tears welling up in her eyes as she stood by his chair. She looked right at him and asked. 'Why do you hate me Grandpa? I didn't ask to be born wrong, I just want to be right, inside and out."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. He didn't know what to do, but seeing her there, crying was tearing at his heart. She told him she didn't want to make him sad, but she'd rather be dead if she couldn't be herself anymore. She told him what she told you and I last time, that each time he forced her to man up, she hated herself for listening. She hated herself for making him angry, but she hated herself for being a liar to herself. Then she looked at him and asked why he hated her again. "

"What did he do?" Troy asked.

"He leaned forwards and pulled her into a hug and told her he couldn't hate someone that sweet." Maggie said. "I watched them from the kitchen. She really won him over, Troy. I know I saw tears and that night he asked what he needed to do to make this right."

"What did she say?"

"Just to let her be a girl and she'd be one of his two best granddaughters."

Troy smiled at that. "Did he?"

"Well, the next day, he started to use her girl name, so I'd say we made progress."

"So how did Vance find out?"

"Caylie told him about the therapist before we could tell her not to. He pressed her for information, then he demanded to speak to Dad. Your father said he was pissed off at what she said and demanded that he 'beat the gay' out of him"

Troy sighed. "And he wonders why he doesn't stay out of jail?"

"Yeah. No one said he was smart." Maggie's voice seemed like it was about to crack. In the background he heard the door open up and the sounds of two children talking at a fast rate could be plainly heard. He could hear two sets of feet running through the house and he glaced at the clock and guessed that the school bus had finally got them home “Troy, just a moment.” He could hear his mother's voice get muffled, as though she covered the phone with her hand. Then a second later she came back. “Son, I got someone here who want's to speak with you.”

“Cool.” He replied.

A second later a young voice, one that sounded almost girlish came on the line. “Uncle Troy?” The voice bubbled with excitement. “It's....Um” The tiny voice trailed off and he could hear whispering in the background. When the voice spoke up again, there was an air of confidence about it that had been missing seconds before. “It's Caylie, your niece.”

“Caylie? Name's not ringing any bells. I don't know any Caylie who's my niece. Maybe I called the wrong house” Troy smiled slightly, another gesture lost to the evil phone He hoped his joke didn't hurt the young girl. But before it could go on too long, he continued. “Oh wait....you mean that Caylie? One of my two beautiful niece's? The one who had to curl up between me and my wife the past few years as as we watched the Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah.” The little voice said. He could almost swear he heard her bouncing in place.

“I see you picked out a very beautiful name.” Troy stated. “How are you doing?”

“Well school was bad, they won't let me wear my dresses there and the girls wont talk to me. They think it's weird that a boy wants to hang out with them. But I'm not a boy.”

“You haven't told them that, have you?” Troy asked.

“No. I want to, but Nana said not to.”

Troy almost asked who Nana was, then he recalled what the kids called his parents. “I know and it hurts that you can't be you, but for now it keeps you safe.”

“I know.” The little girl replied, her tone getting sour. Again he heard whispering in the background and the happy bubbling voice returned. “Oh yeah, you remember that gift card you and Aunt Amy left in my stocking? The bookstore one? I used it.”

“Oh? What did you get? War and Peace? The Brothers Karamazov? The poems of Poe?” He asked, chuckling as he made dinner for his wife.

“Noooo, Silly!” She held out the oh sound and giggled. “I got good books. Real books, like the Harry Potter books. And a few books from a series called American Girl. Papa didn't seem happy about it at first, till I, but I said I could share with Arianna.”

Troy stepped away from the stove. “Yes and that's the best part to a book. Sharing something you love with people you care about.”

“You wanna read them?” She asked.

“No, I'm too busy to read lately. Besides I got my own books to keep me going.” He replied. "So how are things with Grandpa now?"

"Better. He actually calls me his princess now."

"That's good. How about your sister?" Troy asked.

"She wants to call me her sister, but she knows it's a secret too."

"At least she wants to spend time with you."

Once again he heard the voice in the background and the girl stopped talking. Her voice bubbled some more as she came back on. “Nana says I need to let Arianna talk now, Can I call you later?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Caylie, anytime you want to talk, just have Grandma pick up the phone.”