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Chapter 2
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Synopsis: Nancy, aka Darren, checks out of the hospital and begins to have some second doubts about her decision to become a middle-aged woman.

The first thing Mom and I did after checking out of the hospital was to buy me a carton of Virginia Slims Menthols and go to a beauty parlor. Mom had been there before and she had a favorite stylist named, Melina, who spoke English.

Not that I've been to a lot of beauty parlors before, but the one thing that stuck out was that the anti-smoking laws hadn't made their way across the border yet. Almost everyone was smoking- the stylists, the customers. The salon was smokier than most bars and night clubs I'd been in.

Mom had called ahead so Melina was expecting us. She was young and she was beautiful and she was very friendly. She looked to be about 30 and it bothered me that I was so damn attracted to her. For crying out loud, I was a woman now. I shouldn't be having feelings like this but I was.

Thanks to Mom's talkative ways, Melina knew everything about me, and she was impressed!

"I can't believe you're a little boy," Melina said in a thick accent. "Your doctors, they make you so old and womanly. Are you happy? Yes?"

I told her I was happy as I tried not to stare at her heaving breasts.

"Tell me! Show me! What all did they do?" Melina asked.

I stood in the middle of the salon like a show dog as my mother gave Melina a tour of my package from top to bottom.

Melina was fascinated and in awe and so was I. Of course I wasn't the first male to get his bones shaved and have padding injected and implanted under my skin, but it was still new to me.

"Your wrinkles and laugh lines, they look so real," Melina said. "Don't get me wrong. You look good for your age, but that's the problem. You don't look good for your age. Your mom says you're only 16."

Mom answered for me, "A pity! Isn't it?" she asked. "But Darren insisted on wanting to look and live like a middle aged woman."

"But why?" Melina asked. "No offense to your mother, but why would you want to look so old?"

By this time, I'd heard that question at least a thousand times and I answered it the way I had always answered it, "Because I want to be just like my mom." The look on Melina's face told me that she didn't understand, and to tell you the truth, I was beginning to have my own doubts.

Now that it was over and done, it wasn't fantasy any more. It was real life and real life is just…well, its not fantasy. Its for real and its for keeps and like it or not, this was my new life. And it was good. Wasn't it?

Melina smiled in a patronizing way and said, "Well I think its sweet that you wanted so much to be like your mother. I felt the same way when I was a little girl. Now lets see what we can do with your hair," she said as she put her hand on my shoulder and led me to a chair at the back of the salon.

The first thing I noticed was a red pack of Marlboro 100s sitting next to her scissors and her jar of combs. Melina noticed them too, because after she secured a blue nylon cape behind my neck, she picked up her pack and lit one.

"Oh, would you like a cigarette while I do your hair, Nancy?" Melina asked as she handed me her pack.

"Yes, I would but…"

"Nancy smokes menthol," Mom said as she picked up my purse from the floor and fished out my cigarette case.

My head spun with dizziness as Mom placed a cigarette between my lips and lit it for me. If I had to describe the experience, I'd say it was like having my life flash before me.

I saw myself as a little boy, admiring my mom as she smoked a cigarette while putting on her make-up in front of her mirror. I saw myself stroking her silky nightgowns with my fingers, wondering what it would feel like and like to wear it myself. The visions fast forwarded and I saw myself standing in my parents' room in front of their mirror. I must have been 9 or 10. I was wearing a bra stuffed with my dad's socks underneath my mom's two piece silk pajamas with a silk house coat. It felt so so good and smooth and sexy against my skin. I felt the weight of my mother's pack of cigarettes and lighter as they hung in the pocket of the house coat. I pulled it out and watched myself holding it in the mirror.

I remember feeling so much anticipation and fear and shame as my young fingers pulled a slim white cigarette from the pack and held it cocked by my cheek in a feminine salute. What was I doing? What was I thinking? Standing there in my mother's night clothes, masquerading as a woman and pretending to smoke like one. What right did I have to be more than I was? And why did it feel like more? What was wrong with being a boy and growing up to be a man like my father?

I thought about my father and wondered what it really meant to be a man like my dad. My dad is a great guy but my mother was the head of our household and we respected her rule. She was the sophisticated bad-ass who smoked the cigarettes in our family. She was the one who made the important decisions. She was the one who always had our attention. She was our leader and the one I looked up to. If only I could be like her. But how could I? After all, I was a just a boy and I'd grow up to be a weak man like my father, but a boy can dream…can't he?

And here I was now, smoking my head off with a pussy between my legs, wrinkles on my face and saggy breasts hanging from my chest…living the dream! So why wasn't I happy?

Melina put another roller in my hair. She was giving me a permanent. Mom removed the spent cigarette from my lips and replaced it with a fresh one. It could have been the third or fourth. I don't know because my mind had been wandering and I'd lost track of time.

The face staring back at me from the mirror was familiar but she was a stranger at the same time and I was scared of her, which meant that I was scared of myself and of the life I had chosen for myself.

What if being a middle aged woman wasn't as fun as being a boy and pretending to be a middle aged woman? It was something Dr. Girardi had tried to make me think about, but I had callously dismissed her concerns.

I moved my hand underneath the nylon apron until it was resting on my vacant groin. It was gone. My dick was really gone and in its place was a hairy hole. I had a pussy now, a pussy like my mom's, and I'd have a pussy for the rest of my life. My days of fucking like a man were behind me and my days of being fucked like a woman were in front of me. What if I didn't like being fucked?

I thought about Mr. Edwards and his children. From what my mom had said, Mr. Edwards was smitten with me, but was I smitten with him?

The truth of the matter was that I had thrown away my future when I quit school. I'd never have the education to make something of myself, but who needs an education when you're going to be house wife and a mother? The crazy thing is that I didn't even know if I had the qualifications to be a house wife and a mother. And what if I did? Would I be happy cleaning house every day and smoking cigarettes and making dinner for my husband and cleaning up after his children? Would I?

But what choice did I have? Things could have and would have been different if I had become my mother's teenage daughter. I could have kept on going to school. I could have been a cheerleader and dated the captain of the football team.

I got a sick feeling in my stomach as I thought about my former teammates and what it would be like to suck their dicks and laugh at their stupid jokes. And the reason I was so grossed out was because I wasn't a cock sucker. I wasn't gay. So why had I gotten so excited that time when I touched and played with Mr. Edward's penis? And now that I was a real woman, would I still be excited…or if I wasn't, could I learn to be excited?

I was a woman now- an older woman! And it was real and not some stupid dream. I should be happy and thrilled and excited and maybe even content. So why was I so Goddamn depressed?

I wanted to cry as Melina applied the smelly permanent solution to my rolled hair, but I couldn't- not in front of Mom. What would she think if she saw me crying? Hadn't this been hard on her too? She had given up having a son so that I could be like her and follow in her footsteps. She had supported me every inch of the way, even though it was insane, but she did it because she wanted me to be happy. And I had convinced her and everyone else that I would be happy as a chain-smoking old lady.

I forced myself to smile as Melina removed the cape from around my neck and led me to a drier.

*****

Mom took me to the apartment after we finished up at the salon. It was a nice two bedroom flat. She told me the hospital was paying for accommodations during my coma, and a a nice apartment was apparently cheaper than a hotel. And according to my mother, paying for her accommodations and my surgery was a lot cheaper than a law suit and bad publicity.

The first thing I did when we got to the apartment was to fire up a Virginia Slim menthol and burn up the phone, since the hospital was paying for it. My first call was to my dad and after about 15 minutes, he passed the phone to Sammy.

Sammy asked if I was really a grown-up woman like "Mommy", and I told him, "Yes!" We talked a little about his own issues and he assured me that he was very happy being a boy, but that he loved me and he was happy for me because he knew how much I wanted to be like our mom. For an eleven year old kid, Sammy had his head screwed on fairly straight.

My second call was to Ken. I lit another cigarette and the phone rang three times before, Ben, his 13 year old son, picked up the phone. I recognized his voice immediately and told him who I was and asked how he was doing.

I have to admit I was surprised by his enthusiasm. He sounded glad that I had called and he really wanted to talk to me, but before he could say too much, his father took the phone away from him.

"Nancy? Is this you?" Ken asked.

"Yes, Sweetheart. Its me and I'm fine. So how are you and the kids doing?"

"We're all fine, but we've all been worried sick about you. Karen said you almost died."

"Well if I did, I can't remember it, but yes, the doctors told me as much when I woke up."

"So when are you flying back?" Ken asked.

"I'm not sure- a day or two, or something like that."

"Surely it doesn't take a couple of days to get a flight out of Mexico City."

"No, its nothing like that, but I'm sure Karen told you why I came down here in the first place, right?"

"Yeah," he said slowly with a shadow of embarrassment. "She said you were getting a little cosmetic surgery, which by the way, I didn't think you needed at all. If you had asked me, I would have told you that you were perfect."

"That's sweet of you, Honey, but it was something I really wanted to do and we can call it what it was. I got a boob job and it didn't turn out to be such a little cosmetic procedure."

"I know," Ken said. "You almost died from it."

"Yes, but thats not what I'm talking about…what I'm trying to say is I'm a lot bigger than when you last saw me, and I'm talking about a lot bigger. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"I hope you don't mind big boobs."

"Why would I mind? I mean…I don't want to sound like a perve, but there's nothing bad about being bigger."

I sighed and said, "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Okay, so you know I don't mind, and I really miss you and I can't wait to see you…so why can't you come back right away?"

"Because my clothes don't fit any more, Honey. I'm serious. I can't fit into anything, and I really need to take a few days to do some shopping before I come back. Do you understand?"

"I guess so, but I really want to see you as soon as I can."

"And I want to see you too, but I also want to look nice for you." I heard Abby pitching a fit in the background. "Is every thing okay with Abby?" I asked.

"She wants to talk to you," Ken said. "She says its not fair that Ben and I got to talk to you, but she didn't."

My heart was melting. "Put her on, Honey. I wan to talk to her too!"

"Okay, but you'll call me though as soon as you get a flight number, right?"

"Of course I will sweetheart. I miss you so much and I can't wait to see you again."

"Me too," Ken said and then he handed the phone to Abby."

"Nancy? Hi Nancy! Its me, Abby!"

"Hi Sweetheart! Oh, I've missed you so much!"

"Me too! When are you coming home?"

"Soon, Honey. Real soon! So how was your Christmas? Did you get everything you wanted?"

I listened and smoked for the next five minutes as Abby told me all about the Christmas I had slept through. The crazy thing was that I found myself hanging on her every word. I was ecstatic when she told me about her new Barbie doll and I groaned when she told me about the Christmas tree falling and the ornaments breaking.

As she talked, I found myself thinking that I really was something of a mother role model to her and the thrill of it muffled my depression. And the same held true for Ben. Hadn't he been excited to talk to me? Yes, he had been! The two of them looked up to me and they liked the idea of me being with their Dad…and the four of us being something like a family.

And I kept telling myself…this is really happening, and Ken and Ben and little Abby are a part of my life. But how can this be, I wondered? I'm just a 16 year old boy. And then I looked across the room and caught my reflection in the mirror over the dresser.

A big bosomed woman with a cigarette glowing between her fingers looked back at me. She looked so mature and confident, like she could do and handle anything. If I had had a penis, it would have gotten hard. That's me, I thought as I continued my conversation with precious little Abby. "Precious"? What kind of word is that? Its the kind of word a mother uses, I thought.

"Daddy says I have to go now. Do you want to talk to him again?"

"Yes, Sweetheart, put him on the phone."

"Sorry she talked your ears off like that," Ken said.

"I'm not. She's so adorable and I miss her so much. I miss all of you."

"I don't want to hang-up," Ken said. "There's so much I want to say."

"I know, Darling. Me too, but lets save it for when we see each other."

"Okay, that's a deal," Ken said.

We said goodbye to each other and then we hung up.

Mom lit a cigarette and gloated. "See? What did I say? That man is crazy about you!"

"Yeah," I said as I exhaled slowly. "I think you might be right." My answer was void of passion.

Mom sat down on the bed beside me and put her arm around me. "What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you'd be happier. I thought you liked Ken."

"I do like him, or at least the part of me that's important likes him. He's a good man and he has a good job, and his kids are great…"

"But what?" Mom asked.

I shook my head and trimmed the ash from my cigarette. "I don't know, Mom. Its not something I can easily put into words."

"Or maybe you can, but you don't want to, because you're having some regrets."

I got up from the bed and stopped in front of the mirror. It wasn't that I didn't recognize the woman staring back at me. I looked just like the old Nancy with make-up with plus sized boobs and a shorter hair cut. But it was what I didn't see that bothered me.

It used to be that if I looked hard enough, I could see a boy in a dress, but now he was nowhere to be found. My family had had a funeral for him and according to my mother, everyone I had ever known as a boy had come to see me off.

Pain rose up into my throat and tears ran down my cheek as the consequences of my actions worked to suffocate me. "Oh Geeze, Mom! What have I done?"

I fell back on to the bed and cried as my mother stroked my cheek and kissed me on the forehead as she whispered, "Oh Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Dr. Girardi said this might happen. But I didn't listen to her because i was so sure you wanted it."

"I did want it, Mom. I've wanted this for as long as I can remember, at least I thought I did…but…"

"But what, Honey. You can tell me. You can tell me anything."

"But its so stupid, Mom and it makes me feel like an idiot when I think about it."

"You're not an idiot, Honey. Now tell me what you're thinking about and maybe I can help."

"Its just that…well, I think I miss having a penis."

"How so?"

I sat up on the bed, finished my cigarette and put it out in the ashtray. "Its just that when I was a boy, dressing up in your clothes and smoking like you used to be such a big turn-on for me, and then my dick would get all hard and it would feel so good and then I'd jack-off in your clothes while I was smoking and everything was so great, and I couldn't get enough of it. I know that doesn't make any sense, but that's the way I feel."

Mom scowled and said, "There's more to being a woman than jacking off like a teenage boy. I thought you wanted to be like me."

"I do want to be like you, but now I don't know if I can really do it. It's going to be so different."

Mom lit a cigarette and said, "Of course its going to be different, Nancy! You're not a little boy any more. You're full grown woman."

"But I don't feel like a full grown woman on the inside, Mom. I never have, but I thought that would change after the surgery. But nothing changed except for the way I look. And I get it that you don't think jacking-off is a big deal, but it was to me."

"Sweetheart, you can still masturbate without a penis. We'll get you a dildo."

"But Dr. Girardi said there's a chance I could never have an orgasm again."

"That's right, Honey. She did say that and you knew it was one of the risks, but you wanted to do it anyway. You said being a woman is more important than anything. I remember when you said that."

"Okay. Maybe I did say that. I guess I did. But I'm still scared, Mom. This isn't make-believe anymore. This is for real and I'm scared to death. I'm not saying I made the wrong decision, but what if I did? What do I do then?"

"If that's the case, and I hope its not, but if it is, then you smile and grit your teeth and just make the best of it. You're Nancy Peterman now. You're 46 years old and you're my sister-in law. There's no going back. You are what you are and it is what it is."

I took a deep breath and held it as I digested my mother's words. "It is what it is," I said, repeating her words.

"I'm sorry," Mom said. "I shouldn't have taken such a harsh tone with you. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. Its just that I didn't want it to be difficult. I wanted this to be what you wanted. I thought it would make you happy."

I crushed out my cigarette in the ashtray and said, "It is what I wanted…but its the part about not being able to go back that bothers me. Not that I want to back..but I can't go back, and that's the thing. Its like I'm stuck."

"But isn't that a good thing?" Mom asked. "You know. Being stuck. I remember when you told me something about not having a choice being a good thing."

I turned my cigarette case over between my hands and ran my finger across it. "I did say that, but it hadn't sunk in yet."

"Dr. Girardi said you might feel this way after the surgery."

"I know she did, but I didn't think it would feel this bad and be so real." I laughed and said, "Its like I died and I did. You even had a funeral for me."

"Would it help to think of it as being reborn?" Mom asked. "Because that's really what happened. Its almost as if you were reincarnated into the woman you've always wanted to be. Am I right?"

"Its a lot like that," I said.

"In that case, I think we better get a start on celebrating your new life, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate than to go shopping. The sooner we get you some new clothes that fit, the sooner you can start living again. You've got a whole new big life in front of you, Nancy, and it can be wonderful."