One Word and One Year, by Karin Bishop

Part 4

Chapter 8: Saturday Plans Change

The next morning was … interesting. I woke up in a nightie and went to pee, sitting down of course. I didn’t think anything of it because I’d been sitting down to pee for years, except when faced with public men’s room urinals. That got me to thinking … I really didn’t have much of a relationship with my penis. It was a very strange realization, something I’d never thought about before, but it was the truth. I touched it when I went to the bathroom and when I bathed, but I’d never masturbated, although I knew what the concept was, just from listening to the boys around me. I’d kind of poked around, flopping it this way and that way, with no results; I’d thought maybe it was one of those ‘growing up’ things and I hadn’t reached there yet. I didn’t have erections or wet dreams and certainly didn’t have that weird relationship that I knew a lot of guys had. The one where they name it? Like, ‘‘Little Ed’ got a workout last night’ one of them might brag. I figured it would get even worse in high school, with the daily showers, which I dreaded.

Taylor was already up and dressed when I came back from the bathroom; she tossed me a skirt and top. The skirt was layered with light purple flowers and the top was a lilac camisole with spaghetti straps. She’d also added burgundy panties and bra.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she grinned. “Thought the burgundy would go nice with the lilac. I forgot to ask; when do you have to be home?”

“Mom just said–” I yawned. “She said ‘see you some time tomorrow’. I don’t think any special time.”

“Well, then, time’s a wasting! Get dressed. Melon okay?”

I was confused, thinking she meant the color, but she meant food, so I nodded.

We were alone in the kitchen; Taylor made a rude comment about Monica keeping Brad up until late. Melon slices and yogurt and I was good to go; I usually had similar breakfasts. When I was younger, there was a time that Mom and Dad tried to make me bulk up, with daily breakfasts of hot cakes and sausages, oatmeal, and all the stuff that Jake chowed down. I could never finish it and felt like I weighed a ton, but I didn’t cause a scene or anything. I just ate less and less and one day when it was just Mom and I, I asked if we could do something like a melon and toast–which was more or less what she had every day, minus the coffee. I guess that would be one of those things that Ashley said ‘explained a lot’.

I thought Taylor and I were going to hang around the house, which is what I told Mom when I called to report in.

Mom said, “That’s nice, honey. You two have a great time. I’ll see you … when?”

She’s taking this strangely well, I thought. “Um … when would you like me to come home?”

“Oh, honey,” she sighed, “it’s summer vacation, you don’t have anything hanging over your head right now … just enjoy this time.”

Nothing hanging over my head, I thought? Just wait until I tell you what’s hanging over my head! “Um, Mom … you seem … well, like you’re glad that I’m out of the house.” Not what I was going to say, but still …

She chuckled. “Not at all, honey! It’s just … you’re only thirteen once, and all too soon your calendar’s going to be filled with working and school and who knows what else.”

Not sports, I thought. She read my mind–wrongly.

“Maybe a sport? Swimming, golf?”

“Mom, there’s a widespread opinion that golf is not a sport.” It was a long-standing joke with Jake and Dad.

“You kidder! Tennis, maybe. Something to keep in shape. Oh, I’m not talking about football and basketball, Jake’s kind of things. You know …”

Oddly, when she’d said ‘tennis’, I had a flash of a short white tennis skirt. But I did notice that the sports she’d mentioned were co-ed. I was seized with an idea. “Mom, what are Jake and Dad up to today?”

“Your dad is working on the car all weekend, or at least until he realizes it has to go into the shop!” she chuckled. “Then he’s got to fix that leaky sink in the garage. Honestly, the price of water these days!”

“So he’s home all weekend. What about Jake?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since last night when he left with Ashley. They were talking about going to the lake today. Hold on; let me check … yes, his car’s gone. So I guess he’s already left.”

“Mom, do you have Ashley’s cell phone number?”

“Yeah, sure, but you’ve got Jake’s number …”

“I want to ask her something about Jake; just an idea I had for his birthday.” My brother was a June Cancer baby, astrologically out of whack with his jock persona.

“That’s a wonderful idea. Sneaky and wonderful. Yes, here it is …”

She gave me the number and I thanked her. Then the seized idea grew stronger. “Mom, hold on a second.” Pushing Mute on the phone, I asked Taylor for her cell phone.

“Okay,” she said as she grabbed it from her purse. “And you told your mom we were going to hang out here; I thought maybe we’d go to the mall …” She gave me a searching look, and the phone.

“Even better,” I mumbled, the idea coming clearer in my mind. I used her phone and called Ashley. While it rang, I un-muted the first phone, told Mom to hold on just a little bit longer, and then muted her again just as I heard Ashley answer. Taylor gave me a raised eyebrow at my two-phone technique.

“Ashley? Hi, it’s … Allie, but you can call me Mark.”

“Sure! Hi!” She was smart; she wasn’t using either name if she didn’t have to.

“I’ll make this fast. I thought about what you said last night, and you’re right. I’m going to try to talk to Mom today or tonight.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” she said.

“Jake still doesn’t know, right?”

“Nope.”

“Thank you. I’m going to call on you for the help you offered. Are you guys at the lake all day?”

“Sorry I can’t come over, Allie; Jake and I are at the lake all day,” she said with a sexy spin on the end.

God, she was sharp! “You’re really smart, Ashley! If I do get to talk with Mom, I might need to put her on the phone with you. Could you get away from Jake somehow and talk? Please?”

She gave a theatrical sigh that I knew was meant for Jake’s benefit. I could tell he was very close to her and she was spinning the conversation for his ears.

“Okay, I could talk to her, but we’re going to be out on the boat until–what do you think, babe, four?–yeah, around four, then back at the cabin until we head for home …”

There was a giggle and I realized Jake had tickled her or kissed her or something. “After dark some time. So if you need me to talk to her, I could do it, oh, after 4:30, I guess.”

The sound muffled a bit and I realized she was talking to Jake. She was sighing as she said to him, “Girlfriend’s got boyfriend problems; she’s a basket case. Hmm? Yeah, of course I will.” Back on the line, she said, “If she gets weird or anything and you need me to talk to her, of course I will. What are friends for? Okay?”

“Okay. God, you’re amazing.”

She giggled. “I know! Bye, babe!”

“Bye yourself, you genius, you!”

Wow, what a girl! When I grew up, I wanted to be just like her–and then I almost slapped myself with the realization of what I’d thought. Maybe I could be just like her, in a sense …

Oh, God! Mom! Un-mute! “Mom, you still there?” I sputtered into the phone.

“Yes, dear. I put it on speaker and set it down while I’m cleaning.”

“Mom, are you sure you don’t need me to come home and help you clean?”

She laughed, a clear tinkling sound I loved so much. “Oh, heavens, no, dear. I’m just puttering before I start the bills. You go enjoy your day.”

“Mom, I was wondering if you wanted to meet me later at the mall?”

Taylor’s eyebrows nearly shot into her hairline at that, then she grinned and started nodding like a bobble-head doll.

Mom said, “Well, I do have some coupons for … where are they?”

“If they’re from last Sunday’s paper, they’re in the little drawer in the foyer table.”

“What would I do without you? Of course; there they are. So, you wanted to do a little shopping?”

“Maybe …” I hadn’t thought that, but at this point I was totally flying on instinct–and nerves. “Mom, if we rendezvous at the food court at, like, four or so? Keep in touch with cell phones if there are any changes?”

“Sounds nice, honey. I could use a break from the bookkeeping–and from your father complaining about the car! Four, it is.”

I hung up the phone and stared at it.

Taylor burst out. “Oh, my God! You’re gonna do it! You’re gonna tell her, aren’t you?”

“More than that,” I said, feeling a tremble starting somewhere. “I’m going to show her.”

“Can I be part of the Show and Tell?” she asked excitedly. “’Course, I’ll understand if you want to be alone.”

“I want you there, and that’s part of how it’ll work, if it’s going to work. And I’ve got Ashley on standby to get away from Jake and tell Mom what she thinks about me.” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Or I’ll chicken out, show up in Mark’s clothes, and that’ll be that.”

“No, you’ve gotta do it; Ashley’s right. And this could work out better because there’s no heavy-duty prep. It’s not like, ‘Mom, sit down, we’ve got to talk’. That kind of thing is weird.”

“No, this is weirder.”

“Got that right … but there is some heavy-duty prep; we’ve got to do something with your hair and I’ll take better care of your makeup and … and …” She took two steps towards her closet and then came back quickly and hugged me. “God, Allie; I love you! I hope this works for you!”

“Me, too, Tay; me, too.”

The first thing Taylor did was go wildly overboard trying to find me something to wear. She was going through her closet like a crazy woman, keeping up a running commentary as she pulled things out and hung them back up, or held them up to me, or directly me to try them on. I must have tried a dozen skirts and we were trying tops when she frowned at me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, having just handed her a rejected top. I stood there in bra and panties and she stared at my chest.

“We need to work on your bra. I think I’ve got …” She went to her lingerie drawer and rooted around. “Yeah, these two. Try ‘em on.”

“At the same time?” I teased.

“Yes,” she said without blinking an eye. “One over your chest and one over your mouth.”

Of course, I didn’t do that, but the second bra, in a shiny dark blue, felt different.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” she said, and explained that this bra showed the curve of ‘my breasts’ more naturally. I didn’t point out that they really weren’t mine, but the thought warmed my heart for some reason.

We tried more and Taylor was getting increasingly frustrated. It was like I was her creation and somehow failing to live up to her vision. I held up my hands.

“Taylor, wait. Calm down. Look, I’m crazy enough to confront my mother in public dressed as a girl. I don’t think that what color my skirt is will make any difference, you know?”

“You’re right,” she said, deflated. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re right. God, I wasn’t even thinking about you.”

I smiled and said, “Taylor, I owe everything to you. So thanks and let’s think about this.” I actually had been thinking about it, leading up to when I pulled the plug on her fashion frenzy. “Um, you might think I’m silly, or just lazy, but I really think your first instincts were correct.”

“The black slit skirt and red top?”

I laughed. “No; that was great for a night club but not High Noon at the Food Court. I mean the lilac camisole and the purple skirt. I don’t want to look too extreme to Mom–any more extreme than I will be dressed as a girl–and that outfit was perfect.”

“Not the white flats.”

“Hmm?”

“I was gonna give you some white flats, and they’re fine for just, you know, bumming around …” She was in her closet again and came out with shoes. “Okay. These are generally called ‘strappy sandals’ or ‘strappies’ by some. They’re white like the flats but there’s a bit of a heel and it’ll show off your legs better–not that your legs need any better definition, damn you!”

“You think my legs are good?”

“Allie, your legs are divine, they’re fabulous, they’re to die for …” She giggled. “Actually, yeah, don’t get a big head or anything, but they’re actually really good. And wasted on a boy.” She gave me a piercing look.

“Maybe …” I couldn’t finish the thought.

Taylor changed the subject, seizing control. “Now, I’ve been thinking. Now that we know what you’re going to wear, strip and take a shower. Wash and condition your hair. And I’ve got some Nair-type stuff; come on.” She led me to the bathroom and pointed things out. “Okay, here’s what you do. Wash your face and body with that cleanser for your face and that one for your body, then shampoo. Rinse really good, and turn the shower off but let the tub faucet run. Put this stuff on your legs and under your arms, too–wait, you’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

“No. And I don’t really have any hair.”

“Doesn’t matter. Just do it. Rinse your hands really good, then put the conditioner on your hair. Rinse your hands, turn the water off, sit on the tub and think lovely thoughts for five minutes. With me so far?”

“Wash, shampoo, rinse, faucet, Nair, rinse, condition, rinse, water off. Meditate. Got it.”

“Not meditate,” she grinned. “Do like in Peter Pan. Think lovely thoughts, and you can fly. Okay. Hey, if you want, you can shout out when you turn the water off and I’ll start timing you. But if anything stings before the time’s up, don’t wait. Just rinse, okay? Otherwise I’ll tell you when it’s time and then you rinse off everything. Oh, and blot with the towel, don’t rub, and when you’re dry, use these.” She pointed to a powder spray deodorant, talc, and then a tube. “Run this on your legs, all over, from your panty line down to your feet. Might as well do that first when you’re dry. And that’s it.”

My brain was screaming, ‘Panty line?’ but I was casual. “That’s it? You don’t want me to redecorate the room or lay in a new floor?”

“It’d be nice if you got the time … Tuscan tile would be lovely. In the meantime, I’ve gotta look for something.”

Chapter 9: Getting Pretty

We walked to the mall, only two blocks from Taylor’s house. Just a couple of cute girls on their way to the mall … Taylor wore a black denim skirt, black flats, and a babydoll top, white with red cherry clusters. Cute little black purse. I was wearing everything we’d settled on, white strappy sandals and the purple-flowered skirt, lilac top and carried a purse over my shoulder. A hobo-bag, she’d called it. My nails–including my toes, Taylor’s orders–were a dark wine gloss, and it took me walking downstairs and most of a block, but I was getting used to the heels, and I loved my painted toenails in the sandals. She was right; it made me feel more feminine, and the sandals definitely altered my walk. It was nothing like a boy’s, not that it ever really was. I had light makeup on, done by Taylor, and she’d spritzed me with a lovely lavender scent. My hair was slightly damp but very full; she’d had me bend at the waist with the dryer to fluff it out, and it now was in the side part with a shiny purple barrette. I also wore a gold necklace, bracelet and rings.

But I wasn’t done. What Taylor had been looking for was a gift certificate she had to a new salon that read ‘Good for One Free Introductory Hairstyle (Color Extra)’. She assured me she wasn’t going to use it, preferring her current salon, and if they could do what we wanted, she thought it was important. So we went right to the salon and explained; she’d called for the reservation so it was all agreed. I would have a slight trim and general shaping.

The stylist played with my hair, with me sitting in the chair watching the girl in the mirror. Even though I didn’t have earrings, beyond any doubt I looked like a girl. The stylist tried a center part, the side on both sides, and tried it straight back and finally agreed that the side part worked best for my face. The only thing I told her I wanted was to be able to center-part it and pull it all back in a ponytail ‘for sports, or cleaning around the house’ and she understood. Then it was time for a quick wash–she complimented me on my shampoo and conditioner choices (Taylor’s!)–and then began snipping. Because I didn’t want any change in length, it didn’t take long, and after blow drying it out–a luxury I’d never experienced, with the roller brush and her gentle hands–my hair was gorgeous. I was noticing my hair seemed brighter and she nodded, saying she’d put some lightener in the rinse just for extra shine but my hair had loved it. The beauty was I could wear the barrette or let the hair flop down around my eyebrows. She said it could be sexy to boys to constantly push my hair aside.

Hmm …

I think the most amazing thing was that at no point did she give me a hint that she thought I was anything other than a girl! I gave her a ten-dollar bill as a tip, which she wasn’t expecting with the gift certificate. After she’d put the tip away, she surprised me.

“I’m not saying this to butter you up because you’ve already tipped me,” she grinned. “But you’re really a very pretty girl. Come back when you can, and ask for me because I’ve got some great ideas on a shorter cut for you when it gets hot.”

Wow … she was convinced. Now, if I could convince Mom …

Taylor had been absent while I was in the chair and came back with a Cheshire Cat grin, which turned into a genuine smile when she saw me. After raving about how great I looked, she said we were off to Macy’s, and she plopped me down in an Estee Lauder chair.

To the white-smocked saleswoman, she said, “Here’s the girl I told you about. What do you think?”

The woman eyed my face critically. “Hmm … yes, you’re right, she is pretty. I’m Anna, by the way.”

“Allison,” I said, unsure whether to shake her hand or not. I’ll have to ask Taylor later, I thought.

She wasn’t bothered by a handshake; she frowned and looked at me with a strange bluish-white lamp. Then she nodded. “Allison, you have wonderful skin; do you have some Scandinavian blood, perhaps? Yes, I thought so; that accounts for your lovely cheek bones. Alright, your friend has explained the situation.”

“Um … Anna? I love Taylor, but she can be a prankster. Just to be safe, what situation did she explain?”

She glanced at Taylor and then winked at me. “Very wise! But I think she’s on the level this time. She explained that neither you nor she have the money for a major purchase, which as you know is usually expected, but that she absolutely promised–” She grinned at Taylor, “–to come back with her mother and get an assortment.”

“If it’s too much trouble for you, we can pass,” I said. “Yeah, that’s what she told me she would do and she’s good for her word, but I’d understand if you didn’t trust us. You must get girls tell you something like that all the time.”

“Yes, I do, but I’ll take a chance on you two,” she smiled. “She also said something about meeting your new step-mother?”

I looked over at Taylor–who was doing her best to look innocent!–and keeping her eyes on mine, Taylor said to Anna, “I’m not fooling around, but maybe I said too much …” To me, she said, “Allie, she needs to know how it should look, so I told her what you’re doing later.” To Anna, she said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass her. It’s just …”

I read that the situation called for improvisation, if by that I meant an out-and-out lie, but I didn’t want to leave Taylor hanging in the wind.

“Um, Anna? I’m just surprised she told you so much. Yeah, I’m going to meet my supposedly-new step-mother in two hours.”

“If your dad goes through with it,” Taylor said with her finger in the air.

“Yeah, if …and, I guess, if I hit it off with her …”

Anna nodded. “I completely understand. I had the same thing only opposite; my dad left us and my mother remarried. But first there was that awful introduction … you haven’t met her before?”

Completely winging it, I said, “No, she lives on the East Coast, he met her through work … Anyway, I was going to dress up at first but then I thought, no, she needs to see me as I am. Sorry for the soap opera.”

“No, no; I completely understand,” Anna smiled warmly. ”And your friend–Taylor?–is right; now that I know what your makeup is for, I can better match your needs. And you will be coming back to purchase, right, Taylor?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Taylor nodded solemnly.

“And I will, too. I mean, I don’t have a credit card, but I can get the money …”

“Never mind,” Anna smiled. “Now, what would you say your level of expertise is with your makeup?”

“That’s easy. Rank beginner. Mom never wanted me to wear any …” I trailed off, worried about furthering my soap opera.

“I understand,” she said again. “And that’s probably why your ears aren’t pierced?”

“No kidding!” Taylor said. “I’ve been bugging her forever but now we’ve gotta convince dear old dad.”

“I truly hope you and your new step-mother–or maybe step-mother–will hit it off, Allison, and that she’ll persuade your dad to let your ears get pierced and … you’re just such a pretty girl!” Anna said as she went to work.

And what work she did! Brushing and dabbing and wiping and all the time telling me what she was up to. A couple of times I asked why such and such a thing was done, and she patiently explained. In a short time we were done and she showed me an absolutely dazzling girl in the mirror–me!

“It’s fantastic!” I said, “But will I be able to do it? To recreate it?”

“If you follow the steps we talked about, and if you’d like, I’ll give you a refresher course when you come in to purchase.”

“Deal!” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever looked so pretty!”

Taylor nodded, half-staring. “You’re a babe, babe.”

Anna chuckled. “That’s actually not where I was going with it; it’s a mature teen girl, understated, but you have such large eyes, wonderful cheekbones, and that clear skin, that you were born to wear makeup.”

“Hear that, Allie?” Taylor kidded, wiggling her eyebrows.

I shot her a glance and got out of the chair, asked for a card, and thanked Anna profusely. Then we left, and I couldn’t help but check myself out in every mirror in the store. Not overtly, not too much … but still …

Taylor said, “Head for the chairs over there,” motioning to a little rest area. There was an old couple on a bench and a mother dealing with a fussy baby in a stroller. Once we sat, Taylor said, “Got you these. Check ‘em out!”

She handed me a small bag and inside were two sets of gold earrings, hoops and some squiggles like tapering waves. “I couldn’t find ‘em at Claire’s or Icing but the purse place by Bath and Body Works had them.”

“They’re beautiful, Taylor, and thanks, but I can’t wear them; my ears aren’t pierced,” I said, looking at her strangely because she knew that.

She waved her hand as she shook her head. “Not pierced. Rare earth magnets, or heavy something-or-other. The magnet part, see the bigger thing? Goes behind your ear and the earring has a … see, turn it over,” she pointed to the top of the squiggle, “and it has the metal for the magnet to stick. Or cling. Or whatever magnets do.”

“Attract,” I murmured, as I experimentally put the earrings near the flat round backing piece and I could feel the strength of the magnet. “Wow. So, how do I …?”

“Here, let me,” Taylor said. “Hoops first? Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

She used two hands, holding the magnetic back behind my ear and then moving the hoop to the front, and amazingly enough, the magnet had enough force to hold the earring in place, even through a quarter of an inch of my ear! I did wince slightly, earning a muttered ‘Big baby!’ from Taylor, and then she did the other side, leaned back, eyes darting to each of my ears, and finally grinned.

“Can’t tell. Look like you’re pierced. And they don’t pinch too much; you’ll get used to it pretty quick. I gotta admit, I tried them before I bought ‘em and I know what it feels like. You’ll be more aware of them than pierced ears–which you don’t feel, usually. But they’re way better than old lady clip-ons.”

“God, Taylor, do you have a mirror? And how much were they? I want to pay you back.”

“Naw, my treat. And before you go protesting, look, they were the only treat, a whopping eight bucks. The salon was a coupon I’d never use, so it’s like free. So you’re only into me for two lattes, okay?”

“Okay,” I grinned. “I love you, Taylor.”

“And I love you, too, Allie. I just hope …”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing that she meant she just hoped that things would work out with me and my mother. It was a little after three; we had to go to the food court and check the place out, to see how we wanted to work this–assuming I didn’t freak out and cancel!

Chapter 10: Names

The food court was vast, and best of all, it had a main area where almost everybody sat, but there were side areas with tables and chairs and the occasional sofa. There was a kiddies’ play area in one of the side areas, but the area opposite was best for us; two stores had closed and the place was pretty empty. Plus, there was a door to the parking garage at the end.

Taylor and I had discussed it over and over. I figured that I’d direct Mom to a table and Taylor and I would suddenly appear. I’d have to make a decision in the first few minutes whether to tell her the truth or pretend it was a joke, which I really didn’t want to do. And, finally, if she totally freaked and screamed and made a scene, Taylor and I would run out to the garage.

It wasn’t a great plan, but I was running on adrenaline and hope.

I was going to call Mom, but I’d had to take a moment to think of how Mark sounded, because Taylor stopped me before I called and said, “Babe, you don’t sound like her son. You’ve been hanging out with me too much. Better practice.”

After a few trial sentences and Taylor’s coaching, I recalled Mark’s dull, flat voice, so unlike the way I’d been speaking with Taylor for the past 24 hours, full of happiness and melody. I called Mom and she was on her way, pretty close, while Taylor grabbed the spot we wanted, a glass-topped table with four chairs at the end of the area. I could see that in the late afternoon the sun would blast that table, which is probably why it was vacant.

“You want to meet at the book store or something?” Mom asked.

“Well, there’s a spot that’s good.” I told her the location. “Mom, this is going to sound kind of like something out of a spy movie, but it really isn’t. It’s just an easy way to rendezvous.”

She chuckled. “I understand. Do you want to have any passwords?”

“Passwords?”

“You know, secret words that only we spies know?”

“Sure, Mom.”

She laughed again. “I suggest ‘albatross’.”

“Oh, that’ll be easy to work into a sentence. Um … text me when you’re parked and we’ll start walking to the table.”

Another laugh. “See you in ten minutes, honey.”

I told Taylor and she reached out and took my hand and squeezed. “You’re sure about this, babe?”

“Yes. I might still get cold feet, but it’s gotta happen sometime, and … well, I’ve got to go for it.”

“It’s not too late to back out,” she said seriously. “I could cover for you and say that you suddenly had to run to the bathroom–the Boys’ bathroom–and you run to my house and get changed and washed and–”

“No, Tay. I love you for it, but no. I’ve got to do it.”

“And you want me there? I’ll be there for you, come hell or high water, but if you want me gone, look at me and do that head tilt thing you do and pull on your ear.”

“This is getting to be more and more like a spy movie. Thanks, but … we’ll see.”

We were in the main area by the directory kiosk, obscured by people and planted palms, but could see the door. Mom entered and I was surprised to see that she was wearing a dress, a pinkish wrap-style and I noticed she had her black purse, which meant she was up for serious shopping. Or a serious meeting …

I gulped and realized that I wanted to do this, which eased the lump in my throat and my twisted tummy. Under her breath, Taylor crooned the Elvis Presley tune, ‘It’s now or never … ’ I gave her a nod and we began walking.

There are those scenes in old prison movies where the condemned prisoner takes The Long Walk to be executed. This felt similar. I kept my eyes on Mom the whole time and tried to walk ‘normally’–normally, that is, for a girl–not a boy in heeled sandals and a skirt going to face his mother. Mom’s movements were light and casual; she set her purse on the table and fluffed her hair with one hand, looking around the area, and then her eyes saw the two girls walking to her and she froze.

The next few seconds would determine my life …

She un-froze, straightened in her chair slightly, and crossed her hands on the tabletop. She watched us come, without any expression, and her head tilted just slightly. At least she didn’t scream and run away, I thought.

Quietly, Taylor said, “She’d doing that head-tilt thing you do; like mother, like daughter?”

It was such a simple thing to say, but kept me focused on my hoped-for future. I glanced at her and smiled. “Thanks, Tay.”

And we were there. Taylor sat first and immediately distracted Mom, who was looking at me. “Hi, Mrs. Chambers. Remember me, Taylor? I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

I sat, properly with my hand sweeping my skirt under me, knees together, took my purse off my shoulder and put it on the table as my mother had done. I folded my hands in my lap and we looked at each other.

Still looking at me, Mom said, “Of course I remember you, Taylor; I’ve known you for years. This young lady, though, I don’t know …”

What do I do? What do I do? My brain locked.

Mom smiled, “…but I have the feeling I’ve met her somewhere …”

“Albatross,” I said.

“What?!” Taylor nearly screamed, sure I’d lost my mind. I’d forgotten to tell her Mom’s little password joke.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, using my Allison voice.

“Hello, honey,” she said, and smiled.

She smiled! She actually smiled! Maybe I’d survive today!

Taylor was trying to help. “Um … Mrs. Chambers, I want to explain–”

“Tay?” I said. “I think my mother has some questions.”

Taylor nodded and sat back, ready to watch and step in to rescue me if need be. She and I had been over and over what I’d try to say to Mom, and other than one little lie, I planned on the whole truth. The little lie was actually pretty big, but I knew if Mom thought this had happened in less than 24 hours, she’d dismiss it as a temporary thing, a lark. I needed to get her to think it had been going on all along. The lie was also designed to protect Taylor–so I justified it to myself.

I figured Mom’s first question would be ‘How long has this been going on?’, and that was what the lie was designed for. I wasn’t prepared for Mom’s first question.

“Are those your clothes or Taylor’s?”

I was so ready to go into the lie that I was taken aback for a moment. “Um … Taylor’s. I don’t have anything of my own …”

“Please don’t be mad,” Taylor jumped in.

“Oh, I’m not, Taylor,” Mom said. She frowned slightly and looked at her purse with a small sigh. “I’ve been … expecting something like this. But first, honey, tell me what you want.”

“What I …” I swallowed. Everything froze, everything tilted … I swallowed again and dove in. “Mom, what I want–in the best of all possible worlds–what I want is to be a girl. No, scratch that. I am a girl.” I noticed no change in her expression, and was emboldened. “I’ve always felt like a girl, and never felt like a boy … like Mark. What I want is to live the rest of my life as a girl. Openly. With you and Dad and Jake and at school and the whole world. I want to be the girl I am.”

There. It was done. Band-aid ripped, wound exposed.

Mom nodded slowly. “I see. And how long … well, I know the answer to that.”

I glanced at Taylor, who gave me a small, confused frown.

Mom said, “I’ve said I’ve always been expecting this. Oh, maybe that you were gay, but that didn’t quite feel right … it wasn’t the feeling I got from you. All these years, it’s become obvious to me that you aren’t ever going to be the manly guy Jake is, and that’s fine; nothing and nobody says you have to. But all the times I wished …” She looked off into the distance, into the mall.

Taylor said quietly, “All the times you wished you had a daughter?”

Mom turned and focused on Taylor. “Yes, that’s right. All the times I wished I had a daughter, and I guess I made you into one …”

“No, you didn’t, Mom,” I said with some force. “You didn’t make me this way. I was born this way. This is the way I am. I am your daughter; only the world treated me like a boy and you had to call me Mark. But inside, I am your daughter. And on some level, you knew that, and responded to it. You didn’t make me this way; I made you treat me like the girl I am.”

“Thank you, honey. I … Thank you; you make me feel much better, hearing that.”

“Mom, for as long as I’ve been aware of boys and girls, and a difference between them, I knew which one I was–I was a girl. I just didn’t fit being a boy.”

“I know, dear. It’s been hard on your father.”

I slumped in my chair. “God, Dad’s never going to understand. He’s going to kill me”

Mom actually chuckled! “Don’t be so sure! He’s going to be a little weird about it at first, but maybe not as much as you think. You don’t know this … it’s not something parents routinely tell their children … but we wanted a girl.”

Taylor beat me to it. “What?”

“What?” I exclaimed. “You mean, all this time … I thought you wanted Jake, Junior. Dad wanted another jock.”

Mom gave a sad smile. “Actually, we’d hoped for one of each. Like the song, ‘a boy for you, a girl for me’ and all that …” There was a soft, sad chuckle. “But you weren’t either. You were in the middle. A sort-of boy and not-quite girl …”

“Didn’t I say something like that?” Taylor said to me.

I nodded, but before I could say anything else, Taylor gave me a pointed look and then turned to Mom. “Mrs. Chambers, you might think I’m all pushy and everything, but I really want to know … we really want to know … did you know if you were going to have a boy or a girl? Did you have a name picked out for your daughter?”

“Taylor!” I said.

She was unruffled. “Well, why did you pick ‘Mark’, then?”

Before I could say anything to shut her up, Mom smiled. “No, no; she’s right. It’s a natural question. We chose Mark because in the early days of our marriage, we were especially close to a couple named Mark and Dawn. That’s D-A-W-N, the wife. Mark was one of our groomsmen, Dawn was one of my bridesmaids, and we thought that Mark was a good strong name for a boy.” Mom smiled again, but there was sadness to it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh,” she paused and sighed. “You think life is going to go one way and it goes another. Was it John Lennon who said, ‘Life is what happens while you’re busy making plans?’ Such a loss.” She shrugged. “We were so close, but a few years later they got divorced. We had our hands full; Jake was a toddler and I was pregnant, and we weren’t as close as we’d been. Nothing we could have done about it. And despite the best intentions, you drift apart. We haven’t heard from Mark for years; I think he remarried in Florida. Dawn sends a Christmas card and that’s about it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I truly was, to have brought up the subject that made her sad–even if it had been Taylor that did the asking.

Mom’s mood passed. “Ancient history. As to Taylor, here, I’m guessing the reason for her first question … well, we’ll see if I’m right. To answer it, no, we didn’t know if we were going to have a boy or a girl. So Mark if a boy, and yes we had a girl’s name. Three names, actually.”

“Do you …” I had to swallow. “Do you remember them?”

“Of course I do, honey! It’s part of … it’s part of my life. The three names were Vanessa, Allison Marie, and, well … Dawn.” She grinned, kind of lopsided.

I stared at her and then at Taylor, who glanced at me and quickly said to Mom, “Why those names?”

“Well, I thought Vanessa was pretty. Didn’t know any Vanessas, and there don’t seem to be a lot of them running around, like Heathers.”

“There’s one in our class, I think,” Taylor said, “and a lot of Heathers!”

I nodded.

Mom sighed. “Allison Marie was a family name, for my sister-in-law.”

“Aunt Cindy?” I asked, confused.

“No, honey; Allison was your father’s oldest sister, Cindy is the youngest. Allison was killed by a drunk driver shortly before you were born; it devastated him. That’s why he never speaks of her. And Marie was my mother’s name. And as for Dawn, well, you know that story already.”

“What about that, huh?” Taylor said to me.

I was still too stunned to say anything, just staring at her.

Mom chuckled, out of nowhere. “Oh, right; we also considered Jennifer–not too many of those!–and, believe it or not, Taylor.”

“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed.

“That would be too weird,” Taylor said.

“Mom, Taylor came up with a name for me–”

Taylor interrupted quickly. “Wait, wait; you’ve got to make that phone call. It’s past 4:30.”

“What phone call?” Mom asked.

“Mom, the reason I’ve … shown myself to you … like this …is because last night Ashley found out about me.”

“Jake’s Ashley?”

“Uh-huh. It was a fluke. We were out with Taylor’s sister Monica, getting ice cream, and ran into Jake and Ashley.”

“Did Jake …”

Taylor said, “No, my sister’s boyfriend Brad and Jake just sat around doing jock-talk. Ashley came over to talk with us and discovered … her.” She nodded to me.

“Does your sister know?” Mom asked.

“No; in fact it’s because of her that … well, that I started finally dressing the way I felt.”

“Monica breezed in and out of my room once and said something like ‘you girls have a good time’ and it was the first time I ever looked at Mark and realized that he was a girl. Or that she was hiding under Mark. Or whatever.”

Thank goodness she hadn’t said that it had occurred last night; the way she’d told it, it could have been months or even years ago.

Mom asked, “And she still doesn’t know?”

Taylor shook her head. “Nope. And much as I’d love to slag my sister, she’s not dumb. She just looked at her–” Taylor turned to face me, “–and saw a girl. I was so used to seeing a ‘Mark person’ that it’s what jarred me into really looking.”

Mom looked at me. “I must say, there’s something to what you’re saying about being jarred into really looking. And seeing a girl.”

I blushed as I reached in my purse and got out my cell phone–conscious the whole time of Mom watching me with the purse. And my nails … I took a deep breath and said, “So, Mom, I talked with Ashley last night. I know you like her, and I do, too, and she’s got a really good head on her shoulders. So let me call her,” I dialed, “and you can get another opinion.”

It rang and Ashley answered right away and probably had read my number on her phone. “Allie?”

“Yeah, hi, Ashley, it’s me. Listen, I’m sitting here with Mom and everything seems to be going okay, but I still think you should talk with her. Tell her … well, whatever you want to tell her. And please, answer any of her questions as truthfully and fully as you can, okay?”

I heard her chuckle. “She’s there with you, right? And you’re saying that for her benefit, aren’t you?”

“Yes. So can you talk now?”

“Yeah, but hold on a second.” Her voice slightly muffled, but I could still hear her talking to my brother. “Babe? This is that call I told you about … yeah, girl problems. Well, no; boy problems … nobody you know. I’m gonna walk on the beach and give you some peace, okay?”

There was a funny sound and I realized she’d kissed him, and then movement sounds and her voice came over stronger. “Okay, I’m heading down to the beach; still got cell coverage. So while I’m walking, what are you wearing right now?”

“What am I …?” I turned to Mom and Taylor with a confused look. “She wants to know what I’m wearing.” Back to Ashley, I said, “Lilac camisole, tiered mini, black with purple flowers, white strappy sandals.”

She asked, “Makeup? Nail polish? Jewelry?”

“Um … yeah, nice makeup. Estée Lauder. Taylor took me for a makeover. Dark wine polish, uh … Revlon, I think; don’t know the name. And gold jewelry.”

Ashley said, “You might try silver jewelry with your coloring and the lilac and purple. Okay, that was just to keep you talking while I got away from Jake and tested the range of the phone. I’m sitting on the dock now.”

I marveled again at how smart she was. She’d not only done that, but my mother had heard me describing my clothing in girlish terms. I could learn a lot from Ashley!

“I’m going to hand the phone over to Mom; please, Ashley, tell her everything.”

End of Part 4