Our State Fair, by Karin Bishop

Part 3

It wasn’t until Terry finished his pirouette that he realized he’d done it. He’d wakened from a lovely sleep, stretched, and felt slinky and slippery in the nightgown. He got out of bed and the nightie fell down around his legs and he remembered they were freshly shaved and he suddenly felt so light and delicate and incredibly feminine that he spun around in a pirouette. He stopped, staring at the girl in the mirror as the nightie swirled around his thighs.

This …this was how he wanted to feel, every day of his life. He wanted to be that pretty girl in the mirror. Part of his mind registered that he was, but another part said it was just an illusion brought on by a few ounces of lace. Terry knew that he’d never had a desperate longing to be a girl; he’d sometimes thought about it in an vague ‘I wonder what it would be like’ kind of way.

But then, he knew that he’d never had a desperate longing to be a boy, either; in fact, he had no real sense of being a boy.

There were two knocks at his door and his mother poked her head through the opening. “Oh, you’re up! Morning, sweetie!”

“Morning, Momma!” Terry said so happily that Mom’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, it is a good morning, then!” she grinned. “Then I really hate to be the bearer of bad news–but we’ve got breakfast to make!”

Mom told Terry to wear the light green shirtwaist dress she’d placed in the front of the closet. He frowned. “But I tried it on yesterday; it doesn’t fit very well.”

“Yes, it was awful,” Mom nodded. “But this is psychological warfare. We can’t very well hit your father up for money for new clothes tomorrow if he sees you in nicely-fitting clothes, can we?”

Terry grinned. “Yer wicked, ye are!” he said, in an imitation of an old movie bit they both liked.

Mother and new daughter prepared breakfast as they usually did; father and new son trooped downstairs to gobble it and leave as they usually did. Dad studied Terry when he first brought out the orange juice and toast. A really baggy dress, hair back with the same two combs as yesterday. He frowned, then nodded to himself and tucked into his food.

Once ‘the men-folk’ were gone and the breakfast things were cleared, Mom and Terry went back to his room to sort out the clothing from Alice. There was a one-girl fashion show as Terry tried on Alice’s clothes. It was funny; Alice basically had two categories of clothing. The first category were things that had been sent when the grandparents were alive. There were colorful skirts and capris and some tops and a few dresses. Into this category they could also put Alice’s one ‘good’ dress, which she’d worn only once–to church for her grandparents’ funeral.

The second category consisted of what Alice wore to school. Since the dress code had relaxed two years ago, she had switched to jeans almost exclusively. But there were still some drab skirts and tops. Terry was surprised at how few and how bland they were, although they seemed brand-new; he couldn’t clearly remember ever actually seeing Alice in them. Every day for school, Alice wore jeans–usually Levis or Carhartt–tennis shoes or hiking boots, and usually a Henley top, Dickies or Carhartt.

The lingerie followed the same pattern, although thinking of ‘Alice’ and ‘lingerie’ in the same sentence was jarring. Very plain, unadorned white bras and panties, but Mom vetoed the panties for sanitary reasons even if laundered, although they did find another unopened three-pack of panties that had been shoved or fallen way in the back of Alice’s bureau. They were pastel yellow, blue, and pink, and as luck would have it, they must have been bought a few years ago and were smaller, and now fit Terry even better than the other panties.

The panties were bikini-cut, much tighter than the panties that Terry had worn yesterday and this morning. Terry was quite pleased at how they felt.

Mom came in at that moment. “What?” she asked, seeing his smile.

“Look okay?” Terry grinned, turning to her. Spontaneously, he advanced a knee and put a hand on his hip, striking a girlish pose.

Mom gasped. “You’re …” Her eyes widened and then she smiled. “Oh, Teresa! You look so pretty!”

Terry knew she was a mom and had to say things like that, but it was wonderful to hear even if it made him blush. There was a significant moment between the two of them, and then Mom nodded and brusquely said, “Alright. I’ve got something I wasn’t sure I could find.”

She produced a smallish blue box, placing it on her lap as she sat on the bed. Terry sat next to her, his knees together and hands between his thighs.

“Your sister …” Mom began, then frowned. “I know that Al is your brother now, sort of …anyway, for this to make sense I’ve got to talk about your sister Alice, okay?” Terry nodded. Mom chuckled sadly. “Back in the days when she was first becoming a tomboy …well, we’re past that. Anyway, I used some of my Paris Money to get these for her.”

Mom had dreamed of going to Paris ever since she was a little girl. She had a special savings account, separate from the family’s, that she had put little bits of money in, now and then, since she was nine, and it had grown over the years. Terry knew how important the Paris Money was to her and was respectful.

His mother carefully lifted the lid, and Terry was startled to see two flesh-colored blobs that he realized were breast forms.

Mom sat frowning at them, lips compressed. Then she said, “I’d hoped …well, Alice was slow in developing. Her bust, I mean. She was a stick, straight up and down from all angles, while her friends were becoming girls. Well, they weren’t friends as much as …just other girls.”

“Because Alice has always had guy friends,” Terry nodded. Then his eyes widened as the obvious truth became clear. “Because he was just one of the guys!”

Mom nodded sadly, lips compressed and sighed. “One of the guys …” She took a quick breath. “Well. I didn’t know that at the time. I thought she was just embarrassed to be with other girls because her body was slow to develop. And so I’d hoped …well, if she could catch up quick, sort of, with her girlfriends, she’d learn to love being a girl.” She looked at Terry and shook her head. “I know now that it just wasn’t in her. I think I knew, even then, what she told us last night, but at the time …well, I’d spent a lot for them–they’re really good quality–and didn’t want to …humiliate her. As I remember, it was something she said in passing, a week before her birthday, and I suddenly realized they would have been a terrible gift for her. I never even told her about them; we got her the baseball mitt and cleats instead.”

Terry vaguely remembered Alice’s flirtation with baseball; particularly strong was her anger at having to play soft ball. Then, at some point, baseball was just something on TV, although from time to time Dad and Alice still would ‘toss the old bean around’, as Dad called it. Usually on warm evenings while Terry and Mom sat on the porch, sipping ice tea and watching the game of catch.

Suddenly Terry had a flare of irrational anger. It was all so obvious! How in the world could the four of them not have known?

Mom must have caught a sense of his anger, because she turned and sadly smiled. “If we knew then what we know now, huh?” Terry nodded, calming. Mom’s smile warmed. “Somehow I don’t think you would be humiliated if I gave them to you.”

“Thank you, Momma, but …” Terry’s face wrinkled in confusion.

“But you don’t need ‘em,” Mom grinned. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You and I both know that, however in the world it happened, you are developing your own breasts. And you and I both think they’re pretty and they’re wonderful and we’re both happy about that, right?”

Terry struggled with the smile that was forcing its way on his face. “Yes, Momma.” He paused and the smile burst out. “Oh, yes!”

Mom hugged him, and then said, “But telling your father that will just send him around the bend, you know?”

Terry nodded. “No way he could handle it. Even I’m ...” He frowned. “Momma? I love them, but I don’t know how I have them.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve been wracking my brain for some explanation but I can’t come up with anything. We’ll have to hope that whatever specialist I can track down will find the cause.”

“But not the cure, right?” Terry blurted.

Mom smiled sadly. “Terry, I asked you last night about what happens after Fair Week. I think we both know the answer but you never said anything. I think you were …I know that you are worried that I might think less of you for some reason. And that’s just not the case! And just now, without thinking about it and censoring yourself, you said you don’t want your breasts …cured. Right?”

Reluctantly, Terry nodded. “Sorry. It just came out.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s what you want, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

Terry nodded solemnly.

“You need to say it out loud, Terry. You need to declare it.”

Shyly, Terry looked Mom in the eye. “I love my breasts. I don’t know how they came to be, but to me they’re a gift, an incredible gift, and …I want to keep them. And after the fair …I want to go on being your daughter Teresa.”

Mom hugged Terry. “I know you do, Teresa, my love! I know you do!”

Then, she surprised Terry by giggling–actually giggling!

“What are you laughing at?” Terry demanded.

Mom waved a hand, still chuckling. “Oh, I really want to see if your father and sis–’scuse me; brother notice anything. Let’s not tell them about your development and I will skin you alive if you flaunt them in their faces! I know you’re going to be proud of them–you’re just like any other girl, and I can read your face already–but just keep under the radar like we’ve done so far. If they say anything, I will produce this empty box and I promise you it’ll work out. Just don’t push things by undoing a couple of buttons and leaning over in your father’s face.”

The image was so funny that Terry put his hands over his mouth and laughed; Mom laughed with him.

Dad and Alice stomped in for lunch, laughing at something they’d heard on the radio, something about NASCAR. Their places were set, as always, and then the kitchen door swung out as Terry brought a platter of sandwiches. The two at the table stared.

Terry’s blond hair usually hung limp from a center part into a low, boy’s ponytail bound at the neck. The night before, it had been held with combs but still parted in the middle. Now it was parted on the side and swept back with a silver barrette holding it in place. He wore little silver clip-on earrings and pink lipstick. From the neck up, Terry looked absolutely nothing like a boy. And that didn’t compare with Terry from the neck down. He wore a sleeveless red-and-white gingham shirt with the tails tied across, leaving his tummy bare. Low on his hips he wore white capris.

There was a silver chain and locket around his neck, disappearing into the folds of the top–he was properly buttoned to not ‘flash’ his father–and he wore a thin gold bracelet and two gel bracelets, and two silver rings. Mom had been amazed how many odds and ends of hers fit Terry. But the jewelry wasn’t the end of it; Terry wore bright red nail polish. Even his toenails were polished, but they wouldn’t see them since he wore Mom’s white Keds without socks, his legs smooth and looking surprisingly long–for a boy only 5'3".

As Mom had instructed all morning, the point of ‘today’s lesson’, as she called it, was to look radically different but treat everything like it was an everyday occurrence, like all the previous days when Terry had brought out food.

“Milk’s nice and cold,” Terry said casually as he left the platter and returned to the kitchen. He could feel his father and brother staring at his back. In the kitchen, he and Mom fought to keep from giggling as she handed him the pitcher.

He composed a straight face and went back out and poured as Mom brought out bowls of applesauce and a bag of chips. Then Terry set the pitcher down and sat, knees together, putting his napkin on his lap.

“Oh, those are roast beef, those two are turkey, and those are the liverwurst you like, Daddy,” he said, following his mother’s directions, pointing at each with a crimson-tipped finger that couldn’t be missed. Ignoring anything else, Terry turned and picked up the bowl of potato salad and scooped two heaping mounds on their plates. Dad and Alice were still staring at him. Terry turned to Mom and dished a small bit of salad and a similar small amount for himself.

Alice snorted; she’d caught the significance of the salad sizes, as well as everything else. She knew her father was in shock and said, “Look real nice, sis.”

“Thanks, Al,” Terry beamed. He wondered if Alice noticed how his breasts looked and moved under his shirt.

“I like those earrings on you, but they’ve gotta hurt. You should get your ears pierced.”

That woke up Dad. “Pierced? Just for this fair thing? Isn’t that kind of drastic?”

Mom’s eyes narrowed at Dad but Alice shrugged and turned to her father. “Not really. Every girl her age has pierced ears; it’ll raise suspicions if she didn’t. And she’ll need time to get used to them.”

“Well, yes, we don’t want to …arouse suspicions, but …I mean, pierced ears. That’s pretty …permanent …isn’t it?”

“Naw,” Alice shrugged again, a typical boyish move. “Look at mine.” She turned her head and leaned over toward her father so he could see her ears. “If you take out the earrings, stop wearing ‘em, the holes close up. Can you even see the little hole anymore?”

Dad peered closely at Alice’s ear. “No, I …I guess not. Okay. I always thought it was permanent. Well, then, maybe you should think about that, honey.”

It was hard to tell who the ‘honey’ was directed to; Mom just nodded and Terry looked from his mother to Alice. Alice turned back to her sandwich, giving him a quick wink that only Terry could see.

The meal was over, the men back outdoors, and Mom and Terry had a cup of coffee after cleaning up. They were talking about the dinner menu; Terry would take an ever-increasing amount of responsibility for meal preparation, and was happy to do so.

Suddenly Mom burst out laughing, almost spitting out her coffee. Terry stared. Mom got herself under control and looked at Terry. “Don’t you get it? At lunch? What Alice did?”

“Um …not really. I mean, the pierced ear thing …”

That almost prompted another burst of laughter. Mom sat back, smiling. “Oh, sweetie, you have no idea! Alice said she’d help us, but I never imagined …”

“Oh, you mean getting Daddy to let me have pierced ears, once he saw how they could close up like Alice’s did?”

Mom nodded, grinning. “But you don’t get it, Terry–Alice never had pierced ears!”

“So what did she show …” Terry’s eyes widened.

Mom nodded as Terry realized. “Your brilliant sister just snowed your father big time. She showed him un-pierced ears, said, ‘You can’t see the hole!” because there never was a hole. And she did it for you, sweetheart. She did it for her little sister, so she can wear pierced earrings. And for that bit of selflessness, I’m going to have to call her your brilliant brother!”

By mutual agreement, the Wilcox family decided to forego their small local downtown and instead drove over an hour to get to a larger city with a huge mall and sprawling plazas around. The drive had been pleasant, the huge older station wagon roomy, and everybody was excited for different reasons. Terry wore a peach camp shirt of his mother’s that was just a little too big; it would be the first thing changed, Mom promised. He wore a denim skirt that miraculously had survived Alice’s ‘skirt purge’ and, also miraculously, fit quite nicely, if a bit long. He also wore the white Keds, which made his feet look small. Mom assured him that by the time they returned home, almost everything he wore would be different–and would be his.

The previous night had been similar to the one before it; Mom had told Terry it was important to ‘a man like your father’ to establish a routine and stick to it. Farmers loved routine; every day’s work was like the previous day’s and the following day’s work, with the slow turn of the seasons. That night, Mom carefully chose Terry’s dinner outfit; a purple blouse that was too big, and a long black skirt that hung below his knees. And the Keds.

Terry protested that there were things that fit better and didn’t make him feel foolish, but Mom grinned wickedly. “We’re going shopping tomorrow, right? This is our last shot at softening him up. He’s got to notice your sleeves almost falling in the food, and while your dad’s kind of conservative, even he’s going to think the skirt is a throwback to the Fifties. And we’ll just keep hammering him on the Keds, no matter how wildly wrong they are.”

“I don’t know; I liked them with the capris,” Terry said.

“And you’re 100% right about that, sweetie; they were perfect with capris. But we need to get under your dad’s consciousness, get the fact across that Alice’s stuff is too big and my clothes are too old.”

“But you’ve got–oh, yeah!” Terry grinned, understanding at last. “Okay. I’ll feel like a dork. Or the girl version–tonight I shall be a dorkette!”

That was a private joke between them, but just as Mom predicted, Dad did notice Terry’s clothes and ‘instructed’ Mom that she really should get some appropriate clothing and shoes. Mom dutifully nodded and made a note of it, trying hard not to laugh in triumph.

Later, shiny with moisturizer and hair pulled back and wearing the yellow nightie again, Terry came out and without hesitation, climbed onto Dad’s lap and said, “Goodnight, Daddy. Thank you for everything. I hope I can …do a good job for Mom.”

Then he kissed his stunned father’s cheek and climbed off and went to bed. As he passed his mother in the hall, out of sight of the family room, they high-fived each other. Mom’s instructions for Terry were working on Dad, who had sat, stunned and staring, as his pretty daughter left the room.

And now, cruising along on the way to the city, hair flying in the breeze, Terry felt happy and on the edge of something …a horizon …He thought of a poster he’d seen once that said, ‘Today is the first day of the rest of your life’. That’s how he felt. He’d only just started dressing as a girl–being Teresa–but already it felt so very, very right.

But it was one thing to be dressing in his house, in front of his family, on family business–so to speak–but it was very different to be walking around a mall as a girl in front of other people. At least it was so far away nobody they knew would be there, Alice had reassured him.

But we’re there, so somebody else we know might be there, too. Statistically, anyway, Terry thought.

Suddenly a feeling came over him, out of nowhere. Well, it was prompted by thinking about maybe running into somebody they knew. Terry realized that he didn’t care! He liked being a girl, so far, anyway. He was sure now that he wanted to be a girl, and past the State Fair. Not just the day after, and the day after that …he wanted to be a girl forever. And he couldn’t keep binding down his growing breasts under little-boy t-shirts. So eventually folks would have to know about him. Why not now? And come to think of it, what the hell did it matter? He just had to hold onto the feeling of rightness; he was sure it would guide him through.

Well, that feeling of rightness and the wisdom and guidance of his mother. The family had stopped for gas and ice cream, and Mom had gotten the Ladies Room key from the clerk and gave Terry a pointed look. Startled, he grinned automatically and followed her in.

“Get used to it, sweetie. And since it’s just us two in here, two things I haven’t told you yet because they just haven’t come up. Oh, I just thought of a third. Okay, the first one is, sit to pee. Don’t do the guy thing of–”

Terry had raised his hand. “Momma? I already sit to pee,” he said calmly. He didn’t add that he had kept his penis tucked all the time for nearly two years now. By being tucked, the urine shot kind of back and down, just like a woman’s. The first time he’d tried it, he’d smiled.

The confession stalled her just a bit. “Alright then. But afterward, you wipe. Front to back. Never back to front. Good hygiene habits need to start …” She trailed off. The immensity of what it could mean in Teresa’s future was too heavy to contemplate in a gas station restroom.

Terry prompted, “Was that one or two things? And you said there was a third.”

“Oh. Forget the numbers, honey. Sit to pee. Wipe front to back. Then come out and wash your hands–always! But I know you do anyway, at home–and then touch up your hair and makeup. Well, you only have a lick of lipstick right now, but …just check things. And the last thing was just some advice. This gas station is an exception. When we get to the mall, or in restaurants or just about anywhere else on earth, there’s gonna be a line. A line of ladies of all ages waiting for the too few toilets. Don’t panic. Just act as bored as anybody else. It’s okay to chat a little. Remember, it’s an everyday, lifelong thing with women. Even a girl your age has about twelve years of standing in lines already.”

Terry couldn’t help it; he giggled at what Mom had said.

“Oh, you!” Mom grinned, slapping his shoulder playfully.

The only extra comment on restrooms came from Alice, of all people, who murmured to Terry, “Sure wish I could stand up to take a piss.” Terry’s head had snapped around in amazement, and his hand covered his mouth stifling a laugh. For some reason, this caused Alice to throw her head back and guffaw. It was strangely similar to Dad’s laugh.

Or naturally similar …Terry thought.

Mom had mapped out a battle plan for shopping, of course. First, she talked about ‘the men-folk’, also using the term ‘the guys’–it was the first time they’d heard the terms and they liked them; Dad shook his fist in the air in solidarity and Alice leaned forward and bumped it with her own. It was so masculine that Terry realized this was every bit as exciting for Alice as it was for him.

The plan was complicated by two contrasting elements. The stores for the guys were spread out, in three parts of the city sort of near the mall. The tractor parts store was a good distance away. But the items they wanted to pick up were relatively bulky. The stores for ‘us gals’, Mom said in balance–and everybody liked the new definitions–were all concentrated at the mall and a Wal-Mart on a plaza across the mall’s parking lot. But they would be having bags, too, but light and bulky–and a lot of them.

So the plan was that they would go to the tractor parts store first, to make sure they had what they’d come for. The gals would wait; Mom said they’d see if there was something nearby where they could wait for an hour while the guys got their parts. Then they’d take the guys to the next store–Mom made a joke about shopping for ‘manly machines’, said in her deepest gruff voice that brought laughs all around–which was not far from the mall and drop them off. The guys would shop at leisure and then walk to the next place, which was even closer to the mall. Eventually they’d hit the mall itself, but Mom said that she would park the car in front of the Sears store. They both had keys so Mom would lock up and Dad would use his key so they could put any additional purchases in the car and head into the mall. The agreement was to meet at the Olive Garden restaurant at seven.

“Why so late?” Dad asked. “That’ll put us on the road like nine-ish, at least.”

“We should be home before eleven; we’re not sightseeing, honey. Everybody’ll be tired, the kids will probably sleep. One quick fill-up and no other stops. Even if it’s closer to midnight, we’ll have gotten a lot done. Besides, when was the last time this family had a nice evening out, with someone waiting on us for a change?”

She linked arms with Terry at that, who blushed but felt pride at the solidarity with his mother. But Dad understood and just nodded. Alice, as usual, helped out. “Come on, Dad. The alternative is to tag along while the gals shop.”

“Heaven forbid!” Dad said goofily, waving his hands.

Everyone laughed and it was settled. Terry watched his mother; he’d already learned to respect her powers of manipulation, and she obviously wanted a very long day with her new daughter.

They sat for a moment, watching the guys go into the John Deere store. Mom sighed. Terry had to ask.

Mom frowned. “Just thinking how topsy-turvy everything is. Watching my …son go in there with his father …” She tilted her head. “And sitting here with my pretty girl …” She waved a hand around in the air. “Just …topsy-turvy.”

Terry reached over and squeezed his mother’s hand. “I love you, Momma. And if there’s anything I can do–”

“You are doing it, sweetheart. You’re being …you.” Mom squeezed Terry’s hand back. “Come on.”

As they’d neared the store, Mom had noticed a Target nearby and now went there. It was time for toiletries, she said; they should be about the same as Wal-Mart and would save time. They got a cart, and Terry pushed it, so swept along with Mom’s enthusiasm and mini-lectures–on why this cleanser was better than that cleanser and no need for that masque; you could make one at home in the kitchen and so on–that it wasn’t until they were in line to check out that he realized that he’d been in the store the whole time, in front of everybody, completely dressed as a girl! He turned to stare at Mom, who somehow realized what had happened and they both laughed and any last fear and nervousness just dropped away from him.

They had returned to the John Deere store not five minutes before Dad and Alice came out with a long box, some smaller boxes and some bags. They loaded up the car and drove to the second store, restated their plans, and they got out; Alice even gave the traditional two thumps of the car’s hood to signal they were good.

”Such a dude!” Terry murmured.

Mom heard him and laughed.

Mom drove quickly to the mall, parking at the Sears lot as planned and then half-dragging Terry along, mumbling something about ‘Didn’t realize it was so late’. She checked the mall directory and took off, towing Terry in her wake, and then, to Terry’s surprise, whisked him right into a salon.

“Sorry I’m late! The interstate …” She waved a hand. “Wilcox?”

The receptionist smiled and said the stylist was running a little over so it was fine. They sat in the waiting area; Terry hadn’t even had a chance to ask Mom what was going on before she spun on him, leaning so only he could hear.

“Terry, sweetie, listen hard and fast. I called around yesterday and made this appointment. You’re going to be here a long time. I don’t have time to tell you everything they’re going to do to you, but you have to trust me on this. Whatever they want to do, let them. Alright? It’s already been cleared and approved by me. They wouldn’t do anything extra or crazy or anything because they know what I wanted and that’s what they’ll be paid to do. Okay?”

“Um …yes, but they …” Terry was getting freaked at the thought of them finding out the truth about him.

“Shush, shush!” Mom raised a finger and Terry was instantly silent. “You are a very pretty girl. It would be natural for them to wonder how such a pretty girl hasn’t been in a salon before. I told them that you are my niece, got that? Don’t call me Mom. Call me Marie or Aunt Marie. Got that?” Dumbly, Terry nodded. “My sister–your mother, right?–had a very conservative husband who thought women should be in long dresses, no makeup …you know, one of those religious cult things. Oh, your last name is Franklin, if you wondered. My maiden name, remember? I told them that I’ve got you for a time while they divorce and with my sister’s blessing, you’re having what they’re going to do today. Just be a timid, scared girl with that in mind and you’re home free. It is going to take some time and all I can tell you is–”

“Ms. Wilcox? Tanya is ready for you,” the receptionist called.

“Thank you! Just one sec!” Mom called out and spun back to Terry. “All I can tell you is relax, sweetie, okay, please? This could be one of the most fantastic experiences of your life. Just go with it. I’ve got some boring shopping to do while you’re in here, like things for Alice. The fun shopping you and I will do once you’re out. But you’re gonna be amazed at what you look like and how you feel and I just know you’re gonna love it!” She stood, and Terry followed her to meet the coffee-skinned stylist who smiled warmly.

“Terry, is it?”

Terry nodded. “Teresa, actually,” he said timidly.

Tanya looked at Mom and back to Terry. “Your mother told me of your situation.”

“My …father, you mean?” Terry asked, not having to act nervous, because he was. Tanya nodded, and Terry nodded. “He’s …he was pretty strict.” For some reason, he turned to his mother and said, “Aunt Marie? I’m kind of scared, but Ma and you say it’s okay …”

My God she’s a good little actress! Mom thought proudly as she gently stroked the back of Terry’s hair and then leaned down to hug Terry.

Tanya made a compassionate face as Mom said, “There, there, sweetheart; this is how you start your new lives together. And, oh, Teresa; you’ll feel wonderful!”

Tanya nodded. “That’s my job, Teresa. Would you like to come with me? I’ll take special care of her, Ms. Wilcox. Natalie will call you,” she said, nodding to the receptionist.

Mom left the salon, worried but hopeful, and then hurried out to the car and consulted her notes. She knew she had several hours before Terry was done, and she had to get the car back to Sears before the guys showed up at the mall. She followed the directions given over the phone yesterday and soon found herself before a blandly beige building. Entering, she was startled by the wide variety of crutches, canes, wheelchairs, and other things on display in the lobby. She asked for Brenda, whom she’d spoken with the day before, who turned out to be a short, round, cheerful redhead. Brenda had three different compression vests for Mom to choose. Then she took a chance on Brenda’s character and told her exactly what the case was–a girl with medium-sized breasts who wished to be a boy. To her relief, Brenda didn’t judge, but took two of the boxes back into the stacks and reappeared with another. She explained that she’d known of similar cases and these two seemed to be preferred. One was a little stiffer and one was a little more comfortable. Due to the circumstances of Alice’s need, and the rarity of visits into town, Brenda handwrote an extension to the return policy. If Mom wanted to return one or both, she could do it on a later visit up to ninety days.

Next, Mom drove to the Wal-Mart near the mall. First order of business, Alice’s shopping list. Fortunately, Alice wasn’t picky about sizes but Mom had measured her and noted the sizes of the clothes she had that she liked, and consulting her notes, in half an hour she had a shopping cart full of Levis and Carhartt, Dickies, Arrow, Pendleton and other things. Boy things, definitely. She paid and carted it out to the car, loaded up and then went on a trip for basics for Terry. She had her notes there, too, and was lucky enough for a sale on teen lingerie, allowing her to stock up on bras, camisoles and panties. She got some cute tops that struck her fancy and some simple skirts that she knew would work. Leggings, tights, stockings, and then the accessories of brushes, combs, and a variety of things to later put in the cheap purse she’d found, a black hobo bag. She also found basic makeup kits all preassembled in tiny briefcase-like cases. Not for the first time, she envied the girls of today, wishing she’d had something like that in her youth. She picked up one, and found another case that was devoted to nail polish and nail care items. She double-checked her list and reasoned that she had pretty much everything that didn’t require Terry to try on for size. And she was worried about the car being too full when Dad saw it!

There was a parking place two spots from where she’d been before. She left a note for the guys on the dashboard–a trick she and Dad used–to swing by the Olive Garden at six, just in case ‘the gals’ got done sooner; if they didn’t show up, then they’d meet at seven as planned. She hurried into the mall. At the salon, Natalie told her that everything was being done, and that ‘she sure is a sweetheart!’. Mom was struck by the genuine way she’d said that and asked why; Natalie shrugged.

“Maybe it’s being from a farm–oh, I don’t mean that in a bad way! It’s just that usually we get so many city girls here who all think they’re from Sex and the City or something.” She grinned.

Mom had no idea what that meant but it sounded like a movie or a book or something that everybody knew so she just nodded.

Natalie went on, “But your Teresa is just so sweet. A really, really nice girl. That religious thing …they didn’t …beat her, did they?”

Beat her? Oh! My cover story! Mom had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling. She leaned forward and quietly said, “You know, I have my suspicions!”

Natalie, wide-eyed, nodded.

Mom nodded slowly with her. “The main thing is …you’re right, Natalie; she is a sweet girl, and I just had to help her! And it was only once she was safe with me that my sister could …you know, take the steps to divorce the creep.”

“But why …I mean, I know people fall in love with all sorts of people, but …why did she marry the guy?”

“He changed,” Mom shrugged. “I thought he was a nice guy, too. Worked as a baker but was studying to be a minister. Seemed like, you know, a really nice guy.”

Natalie said, “I bet he got weird when he got his church, didn’t he?”

Mom thought, What movie is going on in Natalie’s head? but she just nodded. “You’re pretty sharp, Natalie. That’s almost exactly right.”

Natalie sat back, satisfied and a little proud she’d ‘figured it out’. Mom busied herself in her purse to keep from laughing. Then Natalie said, “Let me check how much longer.” She slid off her stool and went in back, returning with an apologetic look. “Another hour to an hour-and-a-half, I’m afraid. The extensions take time, you know.”

“Oh, I know!” Mom said, like she was familiar with extensions. She really had only heard about them from a friend once; there had been some lines about them on TV and she’d finally looked them up on the internet.

They weren’t cheap, because Mom had done her research and they were using what was called European handmade wefts; but then this whole salon visit was expensive, at least for a mall in a town in the Farm Belt, she thought. But she was using her Paris Money, so it didn’t cause a burden on the family finances. And she was almost certain that the results would be worth every penny.

Mom had at least an hour to kill and used it to check the mall directory, looking for the dancewear store. The map also showed a large bookstore nearby. She’d remembered her ignorance over Natalie’s ‘Sex and the City’ remark. She found the dancewear store and after discreetly asking the older, peroxided woman, sure enough, there was a tray with ‘dance belts’, like tiny bikini bottoms or thongs. Mom asked about swimming, realizing only too late it was a dead giveaway that the belt wasn’t for a male ballet dancer. She’d had such a good experience with Brenda that she’d gotten careless.

The woman gave a patronizing smirk and pulled a second tray of what she was calling ‘gaffs’. She was shockingly honest about how ‘the guy’s balls should go up in his tummy and tuck his cock back’, as if she dared Mom to blush or stammer. Mom looked her right in the eye, fully aware that her own child had already tucked everything, and using Paris Money, bought four, the tiniest, two in flesh and two in an almost invisible mesh.

Shaking the unpleasant woman from her mind, she headed for the bookstore and looked for a reasonably young, hip-looking clerk, a short girl with choppy dark hair and heavy black eye makeup. A piercing winked at her eyebrow.

“Excuse me, I’m finding myself stuck with a fifteen-year-old for the summer and don’t have a clue what girls her age are reading these days. Can you help me?”

The clerk–with the surprisingly gentle name of Amy–was a little uncertain at first, asking questions and wondering why the girl hadn’t read the Traveling Pants books or the Twilight series, and Mom trotted out the ‘religious conservative father now being divorced’ story and it worked like a charm. She’d told Amy that ‘Becky’ would be entering public high school this fall, and Amy smiled and nodded. Mom was piled up with Twilight, Traveling Pants, Gossip Girl books and a pile of magazines, including Seventeen, which was very different from what Mom remembered as a girl. She noticed that girls were still worried about the size of their boobs and period cramps, but then there were some pretty racy things about boys. That brought home Alice’s prediction, that Terry would like boys–and boys would like Terry. Well, Mom thought, we cross that bridge when we come to it …

After dumping the substantial load of books and magazines in the car–squeezing them under the John Deere things–Mom went back to the salon and waved at Natalie and then paid for the services, using the check card in her special ‘Paris Money’ account. Even knowing beforehand, she was still stunned at the price. But telling herself it would be worth it, she sat, picking up a Cosmopolitan from the stack and was amazed and amused and a little embarrassed at how sexually explicit it was. Things were certainly different for her daughter now …and then she remembered that her daughter was her son but really her daughter, unlike her son who was her daughter but now, really, her son …and then she chuckled, thinking, These magazines have nothing on the Wilcox family for weirdness!

Every so often a salon gets it right. They get the right stylist with the right customer with the right kind of hair, the right kind of attitude, a number of things fall into place …

Such it was that day, as Tanya very proudly led Terry out to see his mother. Two other stylists and a nail girl followed; they’d all gotten along so well, once Terry’s nerves settled. They’d been chatting and giggling as they walked and Tanya smiled warmly at Mom.

“Ms. Wilcox? It gives me great pleasure to present to you, your niece Teresa,” and she stepped aside.

Mom actually gasped and her hand flew to her chest. Terry was gorgeous! But …but …gorgeous wasn’t the plan; the plan had been to make him feel comfortably female and look good enough to pass unquestioned as a girl. But he looked not only like a girl, but an extremely attractive one. Mom’s first thought was how beautiful her daughter was; the second thought was Oh, God; how am I going to get this past Frank?

Terry took two tentative steps towards Mom and then flung himself into her arms. Mom had the presence of mind to lean down to his ear and whisper, “Aunt Marie; Aunt Marie.” Aloud, she said, “Oh, sweetie, if only your momma could see you right now!”

“I love it, Aunt Marie! And Tanya, and Ruth, and Emiko, and Hazel …” Terry turned to the smiling salon staff. “They’re all so great! Thank you, thank you!” And he hugged Mom tighter.

“Thank you,” Mom said tearfully to the staff. Tanya had her hands to her nose and mouth, blinking back tears.

Tanya sniffed, smiled and said, “We’ll leave the two of you alone; I know how it must be an emotional moment for you both. And let me say, Teresa, we’d love to have you back here any time–”

“In six to eight weeks!” the one called Hazel called out, grinning.

Tanya chuckled. “That’s to work on the extensions, allowing for hair growth. But it has been a true pleasure spending the afternoon with you, Teresa. Ms. Wilcox, you take good care of your niece there, and I hope everything works out for her and her momma.”

With that, the staff turned and left. Even Natalie seemed occupied, giving Mom and Terry some space. Still, Mom kept her voice low. “Do you really like it?”

“Oh, God, yes! How did you do this? How did you know what to tell them to do to me?”

“Well, some of it I knew, but I did my research and like I said, I made a lot of calls while you were doing laundry yesterday.”

“I love-love-love it! All of it! Thank you!” Terry said, squeezing his mother’s hand. He looked around and whispered, “And Momma? I don’t ever want to be a boy again!”

End of Part 3