Our State Fair, by Karin Bishop

Part 4

One part of Alice’s prediction came true just twenty feet from the salon. Boys would be interested in Terry. Boys and men, too, which Mom hadn’t even considered. Her new daughter radiated, giving off waves of happiness along with the visual beauty. The males noticed, tuned to Terry like radar. Some women, too; Mom saw the flash of jealousy or envy in some of them.

Fortunately, at this point Terry was oblivious to it, as he excitedly told Mom everything that had happened in the salon. They would also see themselves in reflective surfaces and Terry would look, stunned, still not believing he was looking at himself in the mirror.

The combination of modest extensions and hair brightening had given Terry a full, lustrous head of vibrant blonde hair that now reached past his shoulder blades. Mom didn’t want it any longer or it would become a burden in everyday work. Terry’s hair was long enough to easily go up in a full ponytail or down in a braid–or even pigtails!–and was undeniably feminine and quite beautiful. The salon had done a masterful job of matching hair color and then brightening both; it was impossible to tell that it wasn’t all Terry’s hair, even up close. Mom figured it would take about two years’ worth of growth to reach that length from Terry’s collar-length ‘before’ hair. Mom wanted there to be no doubt that Terry’s was a girl’s head of hair and not a wig or fall to worry about.

Terry’s eyebrows had been waxed and were thin delicate arches, so gracefully feminine, that opened up his face and made his eyes seem larger. The makeup was perfect in color match and in application, and the salon makeup girl had given Mom a sheet with the recommended shades and brands. Mom decided to pick up one of each at Dillard’s for special times, and let Terry run wild experimenting with the makeup kit Mom had found at Wal-Mart.

The nails had been a problem; not the toes but the fingers. Terry needed short nails as all farm girls did, and Mom had stood fast over persuasions to get acrylic extensions. Fortunately Terry’s nails were in good condition and he didn’t bite them, so the salon had some magic strengthener that they applied, coat after coat, not lengthening but hardening his nails. Terry said the nail girl had joked that it was ‘industrial strength’ and Terry had said ‘that’s what you need on a farm’, although the girl did her best with her files to gently shape the nails. Finally, they’d added coats of a soft rose and sealer and Terry’s nails were still short but now beautifully shaped, making his fingers look longer and more delicate.

Finally, his ears had been pierced and gold studs shone through his hair, and Terry excitedly pulled his now-thick hair back to show off his new earrings to his mother. He was nearly skipping with pleasure.

Terry was giggling as he told Mom about the pain of the eyebrow waxing when he broke off, frozen. For the first time, he’d noticed what Mom had seen right away–the effect he was having on males. Two older teen boys had walked out of a store, glanced down the mall and then did a double-take when they saw Terry. They nudged each other and were grinning, kind of inflating themselves …and one walked right into a pillar. It was hilarious and painful to see and Mom thought, Terry did that from fifty feet away, in an oversized camp shirt and skirt and Keds, for God’s sake!

Mom steered Terry into the very next store, one that sold games. Terry was puzzled at the choice and Mom frowned, thinking quickly. She waved off a clerk with ‘Just browsing!’ and put her head close to Terry’s, as if they were studying a game display.

“That was independent proof that you are a very pretty girl now, Terry,” Mom said. “Well, you were already very pretty, but after the salon …wow.” She shook her head in awe.

“I feel kind of pretty, Momma. And those boys–”

“Those boys saw a gorgeous girl and got silly!” Mom nodded quickly. “Get used to it but don’t get used to it, okay? I pulled you in here to tell you that you’re going to have that affect on boys. And men, which bothers me a little. Oh, I’m not bothered that I have such a pretty daughter, but you have no experience in this! Girls usually have ten or fifteen years of dealing with male attention before they are as pretty as you are, and you’re just going from zero to a hundred in nothing flat. You know what I mean?”

Terry nodded, solemnly. “It’s nothing I did …”

Mom smiled sadly and hugged Terry. “I know that, sweetheart. It’s all part of growing up a pretty girl, and you’ve just got to do it all at once. Just ignore the stares. Don’t be stuck-up; just go on about your business. If you see them smile at you, smile politely and look back at whatever you were doing. I just don’t know what your father’s going to think …”

“Do you think he won’t like it?” Automatically, Terry’s fingers flew to his hair.

Mom chuckled at the instinctively feminine gesture. “No, sweetie; he’s going to love it.” She paused. “After we scrape him off the floor!”

They giggled and went back into the mall and began their shopping. After a quick trip to the makeup counter at Dillard’s where the clerk filled the list the salon had given, Mom returned to her routing plan. Taking into account what she’d already bought at Wal-Mart, she’d decided most of what they needed could be found in Younkers. Terry was understandably nervous going into the Juniors department, but after no reactions from anybody, and seeing the pretty girl looking back at him from mirrors, he relaxed. He tried on skirts and tops and they found several, as well as several jeans. Mom was concerned about the ‘low-rise’ styles that were so low-cut as to hang several inches below Terry’s navel. Which, to Mom’s surprise, she’d never really noticed before and was a rather cute ‘innie’. It was as if the doctors somehow knew that fifteen years later, this boy baby would need a cute belly button for low-rise jeans and crop tops …

Terry was in seventh heaven; this was all so far beyond any scale of anything he’d ever dreamed of. And at some point–he didn’t feel it when it happened but only that it had happened–he felt that he’d crossed some absolute line. He wasn’t thinking and feeling like a boy pretending to be a girl–he felt like a girl out with her mother. The feeling couldn’t last–even thinking about standing before his father made him shudder with embarrassment and nerves–but while he was alone with Mom shopping, it really felt like mother-and-daughter. And it was a very good feeling that he wanted, always.

Mom felt something change in Terry’s demeanor and suspected that he was feeling girlhood; she smiled with sad happiness or happy sadness. Wait; the French had a word for it, if she could remember …tristesse, was that it? A sort of melancholy or bittersweet feeling. She welcomed her beautiful daughter but was losing her wonderful son. Well, she thought, so be it.

The Younkers shoe department was crowded but they were helped by an older woman, to Mom’s relief. She didn’t want to creep out Terry by telling him about the male shoe clerks looking up skirts! There was a sale on flats, and Mom just gritted her teeth financially and went for it. Terry got his own white Keds; flats in white, black, and brown; sandals in the same colors; and black Mary Janes with a small heel. That led Mom to asking for black pumps with at least a two inch heel. Terry was nervous but went along with it, gamely trying on several pairs. Fortunately, in the time they were buying flats, he’d seen several girls his age wobbling on high heels so he wasn’t as self-conscious. But he never expected Mom to buy him a pair of shiny black three-and-a-half-inch heels! Mom smiled enigmatically and just murmured something like, ‘You never know when you’ll need ‘em!’ They also bought a very nice purse, picked out by Terry himself, a butter-soft brown hobo bag, and they transferred the items from the Wal-Mart purse.

Everyday underwear had been taken care of by Wal-Mart earlier, but in the Younkers Juniors lingerie department they bought some better quality bras, panties, and a variety of nighties, which had Terry on the verge of blushing until he got control of himself. Mom had gone into a different section and found the Champion sports bras Alice had wanted and got several in the ‘Max MCR’ designation. Mom had sadly chuckled to herself about the irony, buying bust-enhancing, pretty bras for her son and bust-reducing, masculinizing bras for her daughter.

Which made her think of a special treat. They had quite a few bags to get to the car, including the heavy bags with shoes–Mom saw the note was gone which meant the guys were in the mall–and then Mom grinned wickedly and took Terry to Victoria’s Secret. She could feel Terry shake a little as he realized where they were going.

Mom leaned down and quietly said, “I figured that you’re already experienced at buying lingerie now, so I’d treat you to some fun stuff and this is girl time, okay? Dad is not going to know.”

“How’s he not going to know? He’ll see the bills and–”

Just before the doorway, Mom steered them to a bench. Sitting closely, heads down, Mom said, “Sweetheart, two things need to be said. They’re both about the same thing but two different ways. Before I say anything, I want you to get all your protesting out of the way.”

“Protesting? Momma, I’m not protesting–”

“I mean the things nice people say. Like ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have!’ or ‘Oh, you spent too much!’ or ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly accept this!’. Those sorts of things.”

Terry giggled at Mom’s impersonations. In a dull, monotone voice, like a robot, he said, “Oh, Mother, you shouldn’t have …you spent too much …I couldn’t possibly accept this …Protesting sequence over.”

Mom laughed out loud and swatted Terry’s shoulder. “Silly! God, I love you so much, Teresa!”

She had meant it completely lovingly, and without subtext, but Terry frowned. “More than Terence?”

Mom froze, realizing how important–how crucial–this point was. And somehow, she also realized, in that instant, what had to be said and done, like Alice had said about ripping off the band-aid quickly.

She calmly answered, “Yes.”

Terry spun to her, eyes wide with shock.“Yes?” Mom nodded. Terry blurted, “What?”

“Yes, I love Teresa more than Terence. Much more.”

Terry was speechless and seemed ready to dissolve in tears.

“Want to know why?” Mom said, calmly.

“Because you’re a woman and you’d rather have a daughter,” Terry said, as if it were a fact. He seemed angry, betrayed.

Mom didn’t let the emotions get the better of her. Still calmly, she said, “Actually, that’s not true. The thing that all women want daughters. Maybe fifty-fifty. Some are afraid of boys; some will tell you they only know about being girls; some want to give their child the girlhood they’d never had …lots of reasons. Just as many will tell you they know how mean and cruel girls can be; or they had a perfectly fine girlhood, thank you very much, and want to see what boyhood is like; or that they want to try to raise better males for the future.” She shrugged. “And a lot of other reasons. But don’t you think for a moment that I’m driven by any of those thoughts. Because when I said that I love Teresa much more than I love Terence, it’s not about me–it’s about you.”

“About me?” Terry was surprised and the anger dissolved in the wake of his mother’s calmness and the point she’d made. “How is it about me?”

Mom tilted her head as she asked, “Do you remember when Alice was trying to learn guitar?”

Terry snorted, remembering. That had lasted about a month! They’d borrowed a guitar from somewhere and Alice had tried, with a book and two whole lessons, but finally after declaring she’d taken her last lesson, set the guitar in a corner of the family room and didn’t go near it again. Several days later, Terry had tentatively picked up the guitar and looked at the book. He fiddled for a bit, and later that night after dinner, he’d shown the two chords he’d learned and as he strummed them, Dad told him to keep going between the chords and began singing a silly song he called ‘A Horse With No Name’. Mom sang along, too, so it wasn’t a made-up song, and it was a very happy family moment until suddenly Alice exploded off the couch and nearly growling with rage and frustration, cried that it was her guitar and to keep his paws off it and she took it and marched into her room, slamming the door. It was one of the few very painful family memories Terry had.

Oh yes, he remembered when Alice was trying to learn guitar!

Mom had watched the emotions play on his face as he recalled the time and then said, “You were pretty good. You should have been one for music lessons and not Alice; it just wasn’t in her. But after that business with the guitar, it would have been too painful for her to watch you learn, so you never got music lessons.” Mom shook her head and sighed. “She’d only wanted to play guitar because she was looking for some way of being accepted by the kids at school. It’s been …brutally hard for Alice. Being Alice. And, to my sorrow, I never really knew how deeply she was hurting …”

“She’s strong,” Terry said. “I don’t mean just, you know, lifting stuff. She’s …stronger.”

“Because she knows who she is, now. She knows her future. Which,” Mom sighed again, “is as a boy named Al. It’s going to be tough, but, yeah, you’re right–she’s stronger now.” She frowned. “I wonder …”

Terry gave her time.

Mom pursed her lips. “I wonder if, all along, it was …it was Al’s strength. Inside. That kept Alice going, I mean.”

There was a moment as they both thought about Alice, and Al.

Then Mom gave Terry a quick hug. “Which brings me to you. Your question and my answer. Yes, I love Teresa more than Terence, and I’ll tell you why.”

“Was wondering,” Terry pretended to grumble.

Mom chuckled and then kissed the top of Terry’s head. “Oh, sweetheart, I love you so much. Okay. The guitar–”

“Again with the guitar?” Terry said playfully.

“Again with the guitar,” Mom placidly nodded and continued. “How many strings on a guitar?”

“Six.”

“You picked out those chords pretty easily.”

Terry shrugged. “Well, the book showed me, and it’s kind of funny how the same note is on different strings, high and low, and sometimes you can change the chord by moving just one finger down just one little …those bar things …”

“Frets, I think they’re called. The metal ridges. My point is, you figured out how to make music–I mean, Dad started singing right away, remember?”

Terry chuckled at the memory. “Silly song about a horse.”

“Huge hit, believe it or not,” Mom laughed. “Anyway, six strings, you said. So let’s just say that three strings are missing. Broken or something. Three strings on the guitar. Could you play those pretty chords that made us want to sing along?”

“Well …no, of course, because the chord needs certain notes to even be a chord. Well, there’s some duplication, I suppose you could sort of do some of the chords.”

“But not all of the chords, or sounding as nice?”

Terry shook his head. “Nope. Pretty tough. It would never sound as good as all six strings. That’s the point. That’s what makes it a guitar. Wait a minute–a ukulele has, um, four strings I think.”

“Does it sound as nice as a guitar? Does it play the same variety of music, from Bach to Led Zeppelin?”

Terry laughed at the thought of that. “No! It’s a ukulele. That’s why it sounds the way it does, and the songs on it–all the Hawaiian ones–all sound like it.”

“But it’s no guitar?”

“No, it’s no guitar.”

“Sweetheart, I absolutely believe, in my heart of hearts, that Terence was a three-stringed guitar. There was something missing in him. Not just being short and …delicate.” She watched him closely but he didn’t protest. He was going to, then nodded.

Mom smiled sadly. “Terence was a guitar with only half of his strings. So, in your own words, you could sort of do some of the chords. Becoming Teresa–whatever the reason or cause behind it, State Fair or not–becoming Teresa added the missing strings. It was like a barely-playable guitar suddenly became able to make beautiful music. All six strings are right where they’re supposed to be. Teresa is Terence–plus what was missing from Terence. I really, truly believe that. The complete musical instrument. You.” Mom gently gave one quick shake to Terry with her hug. “You are my whole child, male and female together, Terry and Terry. Put them together and what do you get? Teresa, my daughter. So of course I love Teresa more than Terence, because she’s the whole person–the whole person.” She smiled as the thought came to her. “There’s more to love.”

Terry sniffed. “God, Mom, do …” He sniffed again. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, I do. Absolutely. Absolutely! And I think your father knows, too, deep down. So far down that he hasn’t reached it yet, but he will, he will. Because it’s the truth. Your sis–darn, I’ve got to get used to this!–your brother already knows. Al might have known even before me, because like he told us, he’s been struggling with this for years. So that leaves you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I don’t think it’s too early or too late. I think it’s time that you declare, out loud to me, if you want to be a boy or a girl.”

“I told you already–”

“It’s one thing to think and say in the safety of our home. Now, after the salon, you’ve seen what your life could be like in the real world. With that …additional information, it’s time for you to declare, once and for all.”

Terry nodded, and then frowned. “But Dad–”

“It’s not about him. It’s about you.”

“Well, school–”

“Not about it–about you.”

Terry looked at the store in front of them, the huge posters in the Victoria’s Secret window. He sighed. “Momma, you see that?”

Mom looked at the giant photo of the model in a pink bra and nodded.

Terry sighed again. “I don’t care if this has only been a few days. I don’t care if it was just to help you with the fair. I look at that poster and I think–I know–that I want that bra for my own breasts. I want to put on a pretty bra and all the rest of my clothes every day and I want to make myself pretty for myself and for my family. I want to cook and do things to help them and I want to be able to laugh and cry and giggle and dance and …” His voice got ragged. “And I want to get married and have babies and raise my own and that will never happen and it’s only for the fair and I don’t know what I’m going to do ...” He burst into sobs.

Mom instantly handed him tissue from her purse. “Blot, don’t rub. There, attagirl.” She gently rubbed Terry’s back. After a moment, she said, “Still didn’t answer me. Yes, you did, but I said declare it. You sort of did when you came out of the salon, but you might have been swept away by how pretty you were.”

Terry nodded, folding the tissue and dabbing, folding and dabbing. Mom thought, How naturally she does girl things! Even Al would just jam the tissue against his eye and rub. Or use his sleeve.

Finally, under control, Terry said, “Sorry. Momma, I said I never want to be a boy again. I think what you said about the guitar means that I was never really a boy, ever. I don’t know if that means I shouldn’t feel bad about it or what. Makes me feel like I let Dad down.”

“Just hush about that; we’ll come to that later. Remember, this is about you.”

Terry sniffed and dabbed and nodded. Then he sniffed a final time and folded the tissue into his hand and cleared his throat.

“Momma …Mother …I’m declaring to you that I want to live every day and every night for the rest of my life as a girl. As a girl and then as a woman. On the drive in–I didn’t tell you this–but on the drive into town, I started thinking about …motherhood. About babies, and how I couldn’t have any, and about how wonderful you are, and how much I wanted to be a mother like you, and I had to stop thinking about it. It was just too …overwhelming. I guess it all just sort of …came out of me just now.” He sniffed. “But I am desperately afraid that I’m going to have to go back to being a boy, and it would be the worst thing possible. I can’t even …” He shook, a quick full-body tremble, and quieted. “Anyway, sorry; I’m taking too long. So I declare: I want to be a girl. I want to be your daughter. And Daddy’s. Always. Until the day I die.”

Mom hugged her and kissed her head again. “Thank you, Teresa. And I knew it, you were right, and we just look forward from now on, okay? Now, there’s a Ladies’ over there; let’s get you fixed up and then watch out, world!”

There had been a line, of course, but Terry handled it well, coming out of the stall later and washing and touching up. Both he and Mom noticed that other women were looking at Terry, smiling or with envy. Then they finally went into Victoria’s Secret and Mom bought both of them some lacy, sexy lingerie, blushing and giggling and promising each other not to tell Dad.

While standing in line in the restroom, Mom had explained what she’d been about to say when she’d gotten sidetracked by Terry asking if she loved Teresa more than Terence. The topic was money, specifically her Paris Money. They’d already played around with not allowing protests, back on the bench, and in the confines of the restroom line, Terry kept his head close as Mom whispered that she had the money and seeing what it could do for her daughter was more important to her–and more fun–than seeing the Eiffel Tower. Terry had tried to protest but it withered under Mom’s glare. Then he nodded and hugged her and understood. The same Paris Money bank card that paid for the salon would pay for Victoria’s Secret so the family didn’t pay and Dad didn’t know–but Mom told Terry to never underestimate the powerful feeling of secretly wearing sexy lingerie under everyday clothes!

There were two relatively quick stops after that; the first was a swimwear boutique. Terry tried to protest but Mom overrode and Terry obeyed, accepting Mom’s statement that everybody–and every body–looks gross under store lighting. Mom made Terry try several things on and settled on a maillot in blue and green swashes, and a pink bikini. It was really hard for Terry to even try it on, but Mom insisted. And then she enjoyed Terry’s furious blush when he looked in the mirror and saw the pretty, curvy girl in the bikini–it was a blush of embarrassment but also of pride.

The last stop was Claire’s, where Mom said that Terry had fifteen minutes to grab whatever jewelry and accessories he wanted. “Don’t worry about anything except ‘Do I like it?’ and ‘Does it fit?’, okay?” Mom grinned.

Terry grinned back. “O-kay, you asked for it!” he giggled, and then attacked the store, trying a variety of bracelets and rings and holding up earrings and necklaces against his face and grabbing some scarves and even a pair of Forties-style sunglasses that were so cute on him that, watching from one wall of the store, Mom had to laugh.

A last trip to the car to unload prompted Terry to innocently ask, “Should we just get a U-Haul?”

Mom laughed. “Thank God we have this big old station wagon. Can you imagine if we’d taken Dad’s truck?”

It was a club cab so all four could fit, but the bags would have been in the truck bed, exposed to thieves. Still, it was a very crowded car. And, Mom thought wistfully, a much lighter bank account …

They had already discussed what Terry would wear, so they pulled out just those bags they needed and went to the Sears Juniors department. Mom explained to the clerk that she would be buying these shoes for Terry, they were perfect, but then she’d like Terry to use the fitting room to get completely dressed for meeting ‘the men-folk’ for dinner. The clerk understood perfectly, and Mom was paying for the girls’ work boots that they’d decided on for Terry’s outdoor farm work; they were a lighter brown leather with some pretty pink-and-yellow embroidery and came with pink-and-yellow laces as well as dark brown laces.

Meanwhile, Terry disappeared into the fitting room and emerged and Mom’s heart almost stopped. She thought of the two boys stumbling when they saw Terry, and that had only been in a camp shirt and baggy skirt. Terry’s hair and makeup were perfect, of course, as were his nails, from the salon. But you could see his toenail polish now, his toes so pretty in the white strappy sandals with a small heel. His legs were sleek and shiny–some glossy cream the salon had rubbed in–and he wore a dress that was short and kicky but not too short for Dad. It was white with yellow splashes on it, with a gentle flare to the skirt. It was belted with a thin white belt and the scooped neckline was feminine yet demure. It came with a short white bolero jacket with sleeves to the elbows. The gold studs winked at his ears, and he proudly wore a gold necklace, bracelets and rings.

Even the clerk gasped. “The men-folk are in for a treat!” she teased.

“Yes, they are,” Mom smiled, feeling on the verge of tears. “Yes, they are.”

It wasn’t a treat …so much as a shock. A four-way shock. Mom and Terry walked to the Olive Garden at 6:55 from one end of the mall as Dad and Alice approached from the other. They were thirty feet apart when they saw each other and stopped in place. It was like an old Wild West gunfight, with each group staring at the other.

Mom was fully aware that Dad and Alice would be staring at the beautiful blonde girl next to her, trying to reconcile that vision with little brother Terence. But Mom and Terry were also staring at the big guy next to Dad. It was Alice–now fully Al–with her head shaved into a buzz cut. She wore new Levis and a baggie hoodie. But there was no trace of a girl.

The opposite was true on the other side. Dad and Al stared, wondering, Is that my son? and Is that my brother? But Alice made the leap first. No, that’s my sister! and waved and let out a yell.

“Whoo-hoo!” she hollered, grinning. “Look at us!”

Terry didn’t think of a response; he acted immediately and waved back. “Hey, big bro! Gonna need a lot of sunblock!”

Alice let out a laugh and bounded the distance up to Mom and Terry, stopped dead in her tracks, glanced once at Mom and then swooped in to hug her new ‘little sister’.

“God, you look hot!”

“Put me down!” Terry giggled, frantically holding onto the hem of his dress.

Alice immediately did that and turned to her father, who was walking slowly to the three. “Hey, Dad, check her out!”

Dad was looking at Mom who just shrugged and nodded. When he reached her, he said, “Terry, you look …you look darned good.”

Shyly, Terry said, “Thank you, Daddy.” He did a tiny curtsy.

“Look at you, look at you, look at you,” Alice said, walking around Terry in a circle. “Cleaned her up quite nicely, Ma.”

“Um …thank you, Al,” Mom said, just as stunned as Dad was to see their two children.

Alice teased, “I can’t believe you guys left anything in the stores! We saw all the bags in the car. That’s okay! I can just ride home on top of the car!”

To everyone’s surprise, Terry reached out and grabbed the front of Alice’s hoodie and began pulling the larger body away from their parents. Shocked, Alice dumbly followed until they were twenty feet away.

Dad said to Mom, “What do you suppose that’s about? Oh-oh,” he said, nodding at the pair. “I know what that means!”

Terry had turned to face Alice and had his arms crossed under his breasts.

Mom chuckled and said, “I think Al is in for it now!”

“Just like her mother!” Dad said without thinking, chuckling, and turned to Mom, surprised at what he’d said so easily. “And just as pretty.”

“Flatterer!” Mom said, nudging Dad with her shoulder. She was pleased. Then she tilted her head. “What do you think is going on?”

“Looks like Big Brother is getting ‘what-for’ from Little Sister,” Dad chuckled. Then he grew serious. “I can’t believe that’s Terry.”

“Teresa,” Mom nodded. “Our daughter. Oh, Frank; I just wanted her to feel good about herself, to have confidence that she could pass as a girl. I had no idea that …well, like Al said, that she’d clean up so nicely. And the folks at the salon loved her; she seems to be charming everyone she’s met.”

“Yeah, I’ve been kind of having the same thing with Al. You know, when guys talk about male bonding and stuff, they get kind of weird about it. Uncomfortable. But that’s what’s been happening. Marie, it’s incredible! He’s …he’s a guy! There’s no girl there anywhere. Well, except for …”

“Her boobs. Sounds better than saying his boobs, but I guess that’s what they are. He told me about a kind of vest and I got a couple, that should flatten everything. But what’s up with shaving his head? I mean, he’s pretty near bald.”

Dad nodded. “What he wanted. He didn’t want a salon or even one of those unisex places. On the way over we saw an old-fashioned three-chair barbershop. And that’s what he wanted. And I don’t think the barber had a clue. About …you know. Uh …Marie …this might not be the best time to say this, right before dinner, but …Al wants ‘em removed.”

Mom sighed. “I know …”

“Must be hard for you; I mean, women are …” He grinned. “…sorta attached to their breasts, you know?”

“Lousy joke, Frank,” Mom said with a tiny smile. “But we are. So that should prove to you that Al is not a woman.”

“Oh, I’m pretty darned sure of that.” He chuckled, nodding.

“Are you, Frank? Only ‘pretty darned sure’? Because if we’re talking any surgery–and this is major surgery–we all better be one-hundred-and-one percent absolutely certain.”

“Marie …” Dad said softly. “After the last six hours with my son, I’m a hundred-and-one percent certain. And I think he’s a hundred-and-ten percent certain!”

“Good,” Mom nodded. “Now that you’ve accepted surgery for your son, maybe you’ll accept the same for your daughter.”

“But Alice already …” His eyes widened. “Oh,” he said sheepishly.

“Our daughter has been very open with me, and she wants to be rid of the fleshy thing between her legs.”

“She said that?” Dad was too stunned to check pronouns.

Mom didn’t answer directly. “I’ve heard that boys are sorta attached to their penis …” Dad rolled his eyes, and Mom poked his shoulder gently. “Which should prove to us that Teresa is not a boy.”

“Touché ,” Dad nodded.

“No, checkmate’s more like it. They’re coming back.”

Alice appeared sheepish walking alongside Terry. When they reached their parents, Alice cleared her throat. “I’m apologizing for going all macho.”

“Macho?” Dad asked.

“When I joked about riding on the roof?” Alice said with embarrassment. “Terry called me on it. She said I wasn’t a jerk before, why become a jerk just because I got a buzz cut! And …she’s right,” he said reluctantly. Then there was the start of a grin.“And I told her that she was a sweet little sister before; she shouldn’t turn into a nagging little sister just ’cause she turned blonde.”

“I was always blonde,” Terry said. Her arms were crossing again.

“Whoa, whoa!” Dad chuckled, holding his hands up. “On behalf of your mother and myself, may I say to the big brother and little sister, don’t try to be everything at once. This is new for all of us, and we’ll have to scootch around and make allowances until we’re all comfortable with the way things are now, okay?” Both kids nodded. “Okay. Let’s eat and hit the road.” He turned towards the restaurant.

“No!” Mom called, stopping them all with the single word. They turned to look at her. She said, “We are not going to ‘eat and hit the road’. We are going to have a lovely–and quite rare–family dinner in a nice restaurant. Only when we are done, will we get in our car and head home.”

“If there’s room,” Alice snickered as they began towards the restaurant.

Terry innocently replied, “We could throw out that box from John Deere and make room!” Playfully, he swatted Alice’s shoulder.

“Ooh, don’t break a nail!” Alice teased, rubbing her shoulder.

Behind them, their parents laughed.

The next two weeks settled into the old familiar pattern–familiar as much as it could be with children who’d switched genders. Terry and his mother got up and made a big breakfast; Terry set the table while Mom woke up ‘the boys’, the new term alongside ‘the men-folk’. Terry served and they ate, and every morning Dad had to grapple with his son wearing girls’ clothing, makeup and jewelry. It was one thing to be ‘gussied up’ for dinner, but the daily reality of Terry’s new life really made an impression on Dad with the everyday clothing, as Mom had known it would.

The shopping expedition had not been all about pretty dresses and a salon; they had found girls’ work clothes, too. On one hand, Terry spent some of his day in jeans and a shirt, just as a boy wore, but in his case the jeans hugged his hips and had some pretty embroidery and Terry wore a camisole under his shirt, which was lighter and had colors that were pretty and feminine. Sleeves and necklines were feminine, as well. The first morning after the trip to town, Terry wore denim capris and a pink-and-green shirt open over a white camisole with lace edging. His hair was up in a ponytail and he wore a bit of lipgloss and blusher, a gold necklace and ear studs, and black flats. It shook Dad at first; over the next few weeks the impact lessened. And every day Alice came down in jeans and work shirts, full of energy and ignored anything strange about how his new sister was dressed.

Dad and Alice would head out to work after a ‘thanks’ and Terry usually cleaned up and prepared a slop bucket if the need arose, while Mom started one of her chores. On the back porch, Terry would put on high rubber boots and gloves, and then carry the slop bucket to the pigs and toss it. Later he’d wash it out with a hose and toss that. The feeding mechanism for the pigs and cattle was ridiculously simple; the physical task was walking through the cows and attaching or detaching the milking equipment. Terry checked the levels of everything–food, water–and the milk and eggs collected. This had been his job for almost three years; even during the school year he would check the stock and then go to school.

One of the most enjoyable jobs Terry had was to take the little ATV, a sort of three-wheeled minibike, and ride along the boundaries of the family farm. Due to the size of the farm and the odd rise and fall of the land, there were pasture fences that weren’t easily visible. There was a set of tools and spools of wire in a case on the ATV, and periodically Terry would usually take a ride around the perimeter. The second day back from the mall, for instance, he found a wire had snapped and found some cattle rubbing themselves against the posts–a sure-fire clue the fence would be down soon. Terry shooed them off with the ATV and its little horn, and then got out the gloves and tools and repaired the gap in the wire. It took more dexterity than strength, and the ATV’s supplies included a splicing jig and a ‘come-along’, a sort of pulley-and-winch, that made tightening the wire as easy as cranking a lever, ratcheting the wire ends closer together.

Terry would come in from his outdoor chores and have a quick shower and work indoors the rest of the day. Since he was genuinely interested in cooking, Mom announced she would be teaching Terry to get to the point where Terry would prepare all breakfasts, lunches and many dinners. And, there was the canning and the other preparations for the fair. Indoors, he was happy with a denim skirt, cami or tank top, and flip-flops. His father would still look at him oddly, as Terry dished up the meal he’d made, but Dad was gradually getting used to it.

But a series of events happened–small in themselves but ultimately life-changing events–even amidst those two weeks of routine.

The first event was caused by a pencil.

Once Dad saw Terry looking so pretty at the mall, he had a lot of questions, but everyone was so tired when they got home that Mom waited until the next morning to answer the questions.

That morning, Terry wore denim short-shorts and a lime green blouse. Following Mom’s directions, he wore two of his little-boy t-shirts under the blouse, which flattened his breasts to the point where they were pretty much undetectable.

Terry had filled the plates with bacon and eggs and toast, and then sat at the table quietly with his hands clasped in front of him. Mom came up behind Terry, gently stroked the back of his hair, and then went to stand behind her chair, her hands on its back. She had their attention.

“Alright. We all had a fabulous time at the mall yesterday and I think the world changed for all four of us.” She paused for a moment and got a nod from Dad; then she addressed him and Alice. “Dad had some questions and I think I’ll just clear them up right now. First of all, I paid for Terry’s salon visit out of my own savings; no family money was used. Everything I asked them to do–and it was I that made the arrangements–was to make Terry feel more comfortable in her new life. And I’d have to say it was successful.”

The way she said it was almost daring them to agree. Dad got the hint and nodded, joined by Al. Terry smiled his thanks. Mom smiled at them all in turn and then began her carefully-planned presentation.

“The salon gave Terry extensions. That means real hair woven in with her own hair. We’ll go back to the salon just before Fair Week for a touch up, the two of us.” Dad shrugged, and she went on. “As Dad suggested, we got Terry’s ears pierced.”

“Wait a minute! I didn’t suggest it; I just agreed to let it happen.”

Al said, “No, Dad, remember? We discussed how it would be suspicious if her ears weren’t pierced, and you told Mom she should really think about having Terry’s ears pierced.”

“I did?” Dad asked, stopping chewing. “I remember about not being suspicious …well, if I said it, I said it. So you did it.”

Terry said, “Yes, Daddy. And don’t they look pretty?” He pulled his hair back and showed off his gold studs.

“Very pretty, honey,” Dad nodded. He didn’t even notice what he’d called Terry.

Al winked at Mom, who went onto her next stage.

“The most important thing is to allow Terry to fit in with other girls her age, right?” Again, she challenged them to agree and got genuine nods right away. “So I gave her these,” she said as reached to the table behind her for the blue box. She turned back to them, paused and then opened the box to show the breast forms.

“Ooh!” Dad made a face. “Too much information!”

“Geez, Ma; we’re eating!” Alice said, grinning so they knew she was kidding.

Mom said, “Obviously, Terry’s not wearing these.” She put them back in the box and closed the lid and handed the box to Terry, who got up, came to her with a hug, took the box and left the room.

When he had left, Mom said, “I can speak openly about this because–and I’m using the proper name for this discussion–because Alice …” She nodded to her. “…is familiar with the subject, so this is pretty much for you, Frank.” She had his attention. “Yesterday you noticed that Terry had a bosom. And you’ll see it from now on. So nobody should be wondering or making any comments. Girls her age have a bust. Terry has a bust now. Not only would she look odd if she didn’t have a bust, her clothes wouldn’t fit right. So …any questions?”

There were no questions; Dad and Alice just nodded, wiped their mouths and headed outside, passing Terry as he came back in to pick up their plates. His bust was now quite visible; Dad gave him a tight smile, moving his eyes from Terry’s bust to his eyes, and Alice winked on the way out.

The issue of Terry’s bust seemed to be settled, but then the first event occurred the next evening.

Alice was sitting at the kitchen table working on rebuilding a fishing reel. Terry was also at the table, copying a recipe from a magazine. He set the pencil down and closed the magazine and took it out to the family room, coming back in with another. As he started to sit again, the pencil rolled off the table and onto the floor. Terry leaned over and picked it up. He straightened up and found that Alice had bent to pick it up for him as well. Terry found himself looking directly into Alice’s widened eyes.

They straightened up slowly and Alice looked at Terry a moment and then startled him by shouting, “Ma?”

Mom entered the kitchen with a finger holding a place in a book. Dad was rooting around in the garage so the timing was right.

“What is it?” Mom asked.

Alice said, “I could be very wrong, but I think you might have wasted your money on those breast forms you showed us.”

Terry gasped involuntarily.

Mom brusquely said, “My room. Now.”

The three trooped in; Terry found he was walking with his arms across himself. Mom shut the door and turned to face her eldest.

“What’s this about, Alice?”

It was instructive that she used the feminine name, which made sense if they were talking about breasts.

“Terry grabbed a pencil that fell off the table and her blouse kind of opened when she reached and …” Alice shrugged. “I know a boob when I see one. So, can you let me in on what’s going on?”

Mom fretted and looked at Terry, who came to a decision.

He stood and unbuttoned his blouse and undid the front clasp of his bra. The cups fell away, revealing his breasts.

“Whoa,” Alice gasped. “Um …” He made a funny smile. “Those aren’t exactly supposed to be there, are they?”

To everyone’s surprise, Terry answered quickly and forcefully. “Yes, they are. They are mine. And I love…”

But he couldn’t keep it going. He started to crumble, trembling.

“Get yourself back together, sweetheart,” Mom gently advised, nodding towards his bra.

Terry re-did the clasp and settled his breasts in place and began buttoning his blouse.

Mom asked, “Do you want to tell it, or do you want me?”

Terry said, “I’ll tell. Because it kind of concerns both Terrys, so to speak.” He finished the buttoning and sat, his hands clasped between his knees. “Al …um …”

“Call me Alice if it’s easier,” came the gentle response.

Terry nodded. “Yeah, it does, actually. Alice, first I want to say that I never took anything, nothing at all, no pill or drug or anything. About a year-and-a-half ago, my nipples budded and I got mounds and …” He shrugged. “My breasts developed. I looked it up in the library and it’s called ‘gyne–”

“Gynecomastia,” Alice provided. “And maybe you thought it was just a temporary thing? Like, until your hormones settled down?”

Terry nodded, looking almost guilty.

“Makes sense,” Alice nodded as well. “Because you …you really weren’t dreaming of being a girl before all this, were you?”

“No,” Terry agreed. “But I never felt like a boy. I didn’t feel like a girl, either, but maybe I just didn’t know what a girl felt like, inside.”

Alice looked sheepish. “Yeah, guess I fell down on the role model end of that.”

“It’s working itself out,” Mom said gently. “For both of you.”

Alice looked at her gratefully. “Thanks, Ma.”

Terry said, “But like I said, they’re mine and I love them and I know you don’t like having boobs because you’re a guy, but I’m not and I’m never gonna be a guy.”

“And they suit you,” Alice smiled. “They’re quite pretty, you know. And I’ve seen lots, in the showers at school.”

Mom murmured, “My poor Alice …what you’ve gone through.”

Alice said, “Thanks. Uh …look, your secret is safe for now.” She held up her hands. “I’m not saying that as blackmail or anything. I promise you I will not tell Dad or anybody else. But I said ‘for now’; just as I noticed them, sooner or later Dad’s got to get a glimpse of your skin there and …he’ll know.”

Mom said, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You’re right, but …hopefully he’ll have had enough time to accept his new daughter that it won’t be so …startling.”

Al laughed.“’Startling’ doesn’t even begin to cover what he’ll look like the first time he sees you in a bikini!”

The second event occurred a few days later. Alice was nasty. Usually cheerful and optimistic, she was snapping and growling at breakfast and worse at lunch. After a snide comment and sneer, Mom set down her silverware and calmly plucked her daughter’s sleeve. Chastened, Alice followed her out of the room.

“What do you suppose that’s all about?” Dad asked Terry.

“Daddy, think about it,” Terry said, just this side of rolling his eyes.

Dad stared at his youngest, thinking. And he noticed how …pretty Terry was; the hair, eyebrows, and nail polish were all girly, and it was a pretty yellow shirtwaist dress. But there was something more …it was the complete absence of any sense of a boy. She’s a girl, he thought; my God; she is a girl! But that reminded him that his eldest, strong and happy to be doing rough work, was also a girl …

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Time of the month. I forgot.”

“Al doesn’t want any reminder that he was Alice, you know?” Terry said. “But every month he gets reminded.” Quietly, he added, “It must be terrible for him.”

Struck by Terry’s compassion, Dad looked at his youngest child with a warm, sad smile.

In Alice’s bedroom, Al the big strong guy was in tears. “Can’t we make it stop? Is there any way?”

Mom sighed. “I’m sorry; not unless …” She bit her lip.

“What? What?” Alice asked, tears out of place on her increasingly tanned and weathered face.

Mom sat next to Alice. “Have you done any …research on yourself? What you and Terry are going through?”

“Just to know that I can have my boobs surgically removed. So weird; my little brother loves his boobs and his big sister wants hers off.”

Mom said gently, “Terry isn’t your little brother, and you are her big brother. And, as much as I have trouble saying it–as a woman, I mean–I understand you looking into …surgery. Have you looked at anything further?”

“No. Any research beyond that, I haven’t had time, really.”

“Haven’t taken the time, truth be told,” Mom corrected. “Well, I have, and there are some …options, but partly it’s a matter of waiting for your birthday.”

“Why? Like a special treat or …oh, yeah; I’ll be eighteen.”

“Legally you can do whatever you want–whatever you need to–to your body once you’re eighteen. Even at seventeen, it’s much trickier. But I’ll look into it for you. So strange …” She shook her head. “We thought you would marry and give us grandchildren early, and our young son would carry on the family name.”

“Mom,” Alice said slowly. “I haven’t talked with you about this, but I can carry on the family name. And I can give you grandchildren, maybe. Adopt, I guess. Look, I’m sorry that I’m causing problems; I hate my periods but they’ve never given me any trouble like this one.”

Mom nodded.

A trace of the old cheerful Alice was there. “Besides, I’m supposed to be tough, right?” Alice grinned. “So let’s forget about me. I’ll handle it. But, Ma, you have your hands full with my sister. She looks great, but how’s her head?”

Mom sighed. “To tell you the truth, she shocks me. I can’t imagine what life would be like for her if we hadn’t stumbled on Teresa. Because it’s all right there. Everything comes so naturally to her. I mean, did you see her tuck her hair behind her ears even a month ago? And now? So dainty, so graceful.”

Although I’m pretty certain those graceful gestures were always there, Mom thought. We just never noticed. We catalogued Terry as a boy and overlooked all the signs that he so clearly wasn’t a boy …

Alice was frowning. “Gonna be real tough on her in school. It’s not fair, but I’ll probably skate on the deal. A big farm girl that’s butch? No big deal. But a farm boy as pretty and dainty as Terry?” She shook her head. “Remember I was asking about ‘the fair and a day’? Like, Teresa supposedly goes away?”

“The original plan,” Mom nodded ruefully. “Unthinkable, now.”

“No kidding! Teresa’s never going away!” Alice laughed. “She’s too real! You could dress her up–” The laughter stopped. “Ma, I just said ‘a pretty and dainty farm boy’ but that’s not going to happen. Not any way I can see.”

Mom shook her head. “I can’t see it, either. I don’t know how, but Terry’s …Teresa, I mean …She’s going to have to attend school–”

Oh, my God! She’s going to have to go to school as a girl, now! I never fully grasped that, Mom thought, stunned. That means …oh, Lord; that means people have to be told, school records have to be changed; what will the other kids think–Teresa could be hurt! And …and I still have to get it past Frank …

Her mouth was dry as she murmured, still in shock, “Teresa’s going to have to go to school as a girl …”

“Absolutely right,” Alice nodded slowly. “Because she is a girl.” Then it was Alice’s turn to sigh. “You know, if we were city folks, it’d be easy to find another school district. Heck; it’d be easy to just move to where nobody knew you had a son. But we can’t leave the farm, and we only got the one school.”

Mom grinned. “Which you might not graduate from if you keep saying things like ‘we only got the one school’!”

End of Part 4