The Ranch, by Karin Bishop

Part 4

Chapter 10 — Life in the Big City

We all got up early for the trip into the city. There was a small town near to us; that’s where Carl usually got supplies, but we were going to see Mom in the hospital in the city, then on to shopping. Before I got dressed, Jackie took a measuring tape and noted down all my measurements. Oh my God, I thought; I now have ‘hips-waist-bust’ numbers! Since Carl seemed okay about my transition and I was going to show Mom how I looked now, Jackie said I should dress femininely; I put on a light blue top that had tiny appliquéd clusters of blueberries, with capped sleeves and pretty pearl buttons. I really liked the short sand-colored denim skirt she handed me; it had a white braided belt and fit snugly on my hips. My toes still had the iridescent nail polish and looked great with the strappy sandals. I brushed my hair out and Jackie gave me two clips that pinned the sides back. I swished my head; my hair looked full and feminine. She gave me a short white jacket if I needed it; I tried it on and with the collar up and sleeves pushed up, it was really cute. I sensed that Jackie made another mental note. I took the jacket off for the long drive, though.

It was a long drive, and we stopped for gas and soft drinks. It was strange to think that the cars we passed looked at us and saw a girl in the back seat. Strange, but at the same time it made me feel good. Finally we got to the hospital, and this time I walked proudly down the corridors, thinking ‘I’m a daughter going to see her mother.’ Nobody questioned that I was a girl, but I did realize that guys were checking me out. It felt creepy and good at the same time.

There were two big changes with Mom, both for the good. First of all, one eye was open and clear. The other one was still bandaged; the docs said they’d open it very soon. The second was that Mom had a writing gadget clipped to the bed, like a cross between an iPad and an Etch-a-Sketch; sort of like those things you sign for your credit card in department stores. Her left hand and arm had all the tubes running into her, but her right hand was free although the arm was still held rigid by bandages. The gadget had a stylus on a cord, and she’d write something; I realized that a monitor over her bed was the screen for viewing what she wrote, so you didn’t have to read her actual pad. You could read her comments, talk to her, and she could write a response that showed on the overhead screen. She also had places to tap on the screen for a quick Yes or No and to clear the screen. We could talk to each other!

I approached her, with my hands clasped behind my back. “Hi, Mom!”

She wrote, “Oh, my darling daughter!!”

Tears burst freely. I ran to her, but had to pull up short because I knew I couldn’t touch her. I told her I loved her so much; I hoped she wasn’t mad at me; I hoped she liked me.

She wrote, “I love you, silly!” and then underlined ‘love’ three times.

I told her about what Jackie and I had been doing, and what we had planned, and hoped it was okay with her.

She wrote several short sentences, because the screen couldn’t hold too much; putting them all together, they said, “You are so beautiful–I knew you would be! Be the girl I know you can be (she underlined ‘can’)–don’t hold back. It’s the only way you’ll find out who you truly are.” And she underlined ‘truly’.

I swallowed and said I would try my best. Mom made me cry again when she said that she wished she could be with me through all of this, and then she said that she wanted to just walk, to get up and just go some place. Since she couldn’t, I would have to do her walking and seeing and just be her stand-in as a girl in the world. I knew what she meant; I told her I loved her again.

She asked how things were with Jackie and Carl and me, and I told her they were great and getting better. She wrote that she would need to talk some business with Jackie in a moment. But first she said she had five things she wanted me to do; would I promise to do them? Jackie would explain fully. I said I would as much as I could; what were they?

This is what she wrote: “1) Wear lipstick. 2) Try pigtails. 3) Get a bikini. 4) Dance in your room. 5) Think about boys.”

The last one made me gulp, but I nodded and told her I’d try to do all five; joking, I asked did she want me to do them all at the same time?

I shouldn’t have said that; she tried to laugh and I could tell it hurt her. She quickly wrote, “Why not? I love you!! Send Jackie pls.”

I told her I loved her and went to get Jackie. I walked back in with her and called goodbye to Mom; just before the door closed I saw Jackie bend and read the gadget and say, “Yes, she’s real pretty.” That gave me a warm glow as I went to sit with Carl.

He was quiet and moody. I told him about Mom and the gadget and he looked up at the ceiling. I realized there were tears in his eyes.

He slowly said, “I can’t …handle the thought of what happened to her. She’s too good a person to have that happen to her. I think about what if it had been Jackie and I …”

All I could say was ‘yeah.’

“Listen …I need a coffee; can I get you anything?” Carl nodded to an espresso stand down the hall. I told him I was okay and he got up slowly and walked to the stand.

I realized that he might have been using the offer of coffee to establish communication–or a distraction. Either way, I should have taken him up on his offer out of politeness. I stood and followed him to the stand.

The barista had his back turned, foaming Carl’s order, and I smiled at Carl. “You know, on second thought, you’re right. Coffee would be pretty good right now.”

Carl tilted his head. “You drink coffee? Aren’t you a little young? I mean, I guess it’s not my business …”

“No; it’s okay. A lot of kids my age are drinking coffee now. The thing is to not drink too much or too strong, but a short latte would be fine. Mom and I …” I paused as the happy memory threatened my composure. “Mom and I used to share a cup together some mornings, usually Sundays.”

“Yeah, there’s something special about Sunday morning coffee.”

We were both making small talk. We didn’t really need to talk about coffee.

It was a good moment for us.

The barista turned and was a young guy with dark curly hair. He kind of looked like the genius guy on that old TV show Numbers. David something. He seemed to freeze for a second and then smiled.

“What can I get you?” His voice was nice. Pleasant, I mean.

“Um …a short latte, please,” I asked, and realized for some reason that I felt warm.

Carl looked at me over the rim of his cup, saying nothing, as the barista steamed my order. I felt strange, like I was under a microscope or something. To say something, I said, “Thank you for the coffee, Uncle Carl,” but he just nodded.

The barista handed me my coffee and said, “Thank you; please stop by again.” I know it was probably what he said to everybody, but it kind of felt like he was talking right to me. I felt a blush coming on and turned to walk back to our seats. I couldn’t help but think of Mom’s Number 5: ‘Think about boys.’

Too weird. Too …too weird.

We sat and got comfy, sipping in silence. I said, “Mm, good,” like a silly commercial. Carl nodded and was quiet for a while, studying his cup. Then he said, “You know, I’m still having a little trouble with all this.”

He didn’t mean the hospital. He didn’t mean the coffee. He meant me. All I said was, ‘yeah’ again.

He looked at me. “Don’t get me wrong, I understand what’s happening to you, or with you, or whatever the right phrasing is …but I don’t understand it at the same time.”

“Kind of where I’m at, too.”

“The main thing is …I knew some gay guys over the years, and I can see this isn’t a gay thing, so that’s not the issue. It’s …well, I don’t see how any male would want to be female, the whole …frilly thing and makeup and dolls and all …”

I knew what he meant and I saw a great opportunity. “Uncle Carl, I agree with you.”

That startled him. “You do? But …”

I had to put it in terms he could deal with. “Look, it doesn’t matter if a guy is gay or straight, you’re right–the thought of actually being female is the farthest thing from their minds.”

He turned to look at me, frowning. “I never thought of it that way. Regular guys, sure, but gay guys?” He paused. “Yeah, you’re right. They like being guys.” He nodded to himself in confirmation, but kept looking at me sideways. “So?”

I grinned. “So …doesn’t that prove to you that I’m not male? How could I want to be pretty, play with dolls, wear makeup, all that …unless I really truly was already female?”

It slowly dawned on him and I let him mull it over. “Yeah …” He held up a hand, kind of moving it a bit in the air, trying out the ideas he was grappling with. “It’s not a gay thing–hell, it’s not even a guy thing. Jackie was going on about double Xs and things, but it didn’t really …register …” He snapped back up and gave me the strangest look–like he was actually seeing me for the first time. “You’re a girl!”

I laughed. “Yes! Hel-lo!”

He was thinking about it with a kind of goofy grin and I knew something special had been achieved; he’d understood intellectually what Jackie had told him about me, but in his gut he hadn’t accepted it; he couldn’t quite grasp the concept. Now, his mind and his gut both grasped and accepted it. From this point on, I was a girl to him, plain and simple.

We’d both finished our coffee; Carl demonstrated our new relationship when he stood and reached for my cup, throwing both of them in the trash bin down the hall. There was something about the way he’d done it that kind of reminded me of chivalry–of how a gentleman treats a lady. I remembered Jackie’s description of what he was like when she first met him. I hid my smile by tidying the hem of my skirt as he sat back down.

Jackie came out right then and called him in to see Mom. I waited, thinking about the five things Mom had made me promise. I think I understood, but I would still talk with Jackie about them.

They came out about five minutes later and Jackie said ‘Let’s go to the Ladies’ room before we leave for the mall.’ Jackie told me that she and Mom had discussed insurance and things like that, and for me not to worry about what things cost when we were at the mall; it was worked out. I knew that Jackie wanted to playfully torture Uncle Carl by dragging him along as we were ‘girl’ shopping, and asked if we could cut him loose early to not prolong his suffering. She grinned wickedly and said, ‘Maybe!’ She said that when they were talking with my mother, Mom had asked Carl about his feelings about me, and Carl said, “I told her that she’s a really pretty girl and a hard worker and we’re glad to have her!”

I was so glad that Carl and I had talked before he saw Mom, and that he’d had his ‘breakthrough.’ Mom is pretty sharp and would have known instantly if he was still unsure of how to deal with me. Now I knew she’d rest easy, which was most important for her recovery.

When I told Jackie about the ‘breakthrough’, she smiled and nodded, looking happy but with a touch of sadness. I realized she was also thinking of Bethany. She and Carl will feel Bethany’s loss forever.

At the mall, Jackie directed us to Claire’s and shot me her wicked grin. I had to smile; I knew Carl would squirm in there. In the store, full of earrings, rings, necklaces, accessories, and milling, squealing teenaged girls, Jackie immediately spoke with the manager and after two painful click-pops, I had two gold stud earrings and surprised myself by how delighted I was! I kept turning my head this way and that in the mirrors, and Jackie had to drag me to get two pair of earrings, small hoops and tiny dangly things, as part of the package deal.

Carl had gone a little white when the earring gun was used, and was trying to keep out of the way of the teen girls zooming through the place. His mouth did show a trace of a smile when I was admiring my earrings and saying, “Oh, Aunt Jackie–I love them!” because it confirmed what we’d talked about for his ‘breakthrough’–because to Carl’s mind, only a girl would be gushing so delightedly over earrings. Jackie leaned over and whispered that I could tell Carl ‘it was sweet of him, but he didn’t have to stay.’ I did that, and his face lit up with relief. Jackie added that we should rendezvous at five at the fountain, and Carl took off gratefully.

Jackie said we had to hurry; I followed her as she blazed her way across the mall to a beauty salon. She’d made an appointment while I was in with Mom, and I was due for a new hairstyle! I guess the stylist knew about me, or Jackie had told her some story to explain how my hair was so obviously unstyled. I changed into a gown and got shampooed and then cut and blow-dried and I was dazzled by how little had been removed, but how femininely it had been styled. I had just enough bangs, and I guess there were layers on the side because it framed my face. The stylist had frozen my eyebrows before plucking and then went to work, and they now had a graceful arch and some definition, opening up my eyes and softening my face. They definitely weren’t boy’s eyebrows anymore!

While the stylist worked, an older woman rolled up a little cart and began working on my nails; Jackie had ordered the whole package. When she was done, my fingers and toes had a sculptured, rounded look with a soft pink glaze that also had some slight iridescence and looked wet long after it dried in her light gadget. The nails were still short enough to not get in the way when I was working, but I knew I’d wear gloves more often to protect them because I loved them so much.

They spun me around and there was Jackie, beaming, wiping a tear. I thanked her and thanked her and she said to not make a scene; it would look like I’d never been in a beauty salon before! I burst out laughing as I changed, she paid (and we bought some of the nail polish), and we left.

She said she had two stores more for me, and not to argue. The first was at the opposite end of the mall, and as we walked, I asked her about Mom’s list of five things I promised to do.

Jackie said, “Well, they all mean two things at least. First, wear lipstick. Wear it every day; but more than that, wear makeup and get used to putting it on every day. Have fun with different looks; it’s one of the joys of girlhood. Second, try pigtails. Even with your new hairstyle, you can do it. They’re just so darned cute, and will give you a hint of the fun little girl inside you, and that you never got to experience in real life. Even if you never wear ‘em in public, you’ll have that feeling to hold onto. Third, get a bikini. That’s obvious, but also I think she means get used to your body being seen as a girl’s body, and the sexiness that comes with that. And the freedom and the power. Fourth, dance in your room. Crank up the CD player–when Carl’s away, though!–and dance. Remember the song Girls Just Wanna Have Fun? That’s a good one to start with. Get used to moving your body around; girls dance a lot and never more than when they’re teenagers. Fifth …well.”

She stopped for a moment, slightly winded from walking and talking, and nodded to a group of boys coming out of an electronics store. “They’re not you, nor you them, not anymore–not ever, really. Boys are the opposite sex, with everything that the word means. If you think about them that way, it’ll be so much easier to think of yourself as a girl and not have any last hang-ups that there’s anything gay or weird or that you’re a boy trying to be a girl. And …it’s fun to think about cute boys! Put up posters of hotties, have a crush; it’s alright with her. And me. Okay?”

I said okay and as we walked, I thought about how Mom was crafty and loving at the same time. I knew the salon had been part of my crossing over, and the next stop was even more so …

I got a bra.

More than that …we went to Victoria’s Secret! Jackie said we were going to get my first bra, and maybe one or two other things, and she knew what was needed for me. We went into the changing room together and I had to keep from freaking out. I removed my top and stood there, my little mounds exposed and was surprised and delighted that my nipples visibly hardened. Jackie had grabbed some bras and had me try two on, then the third and that was the one–it was a teen Wonderbra and it actually made me look like I had more than I really did! We both knew immediately that it was the one, and when I put my top on, Jackie stopped me from buttoning it where I had it. I looked down and could see the start of cleavage. We looked at each other, grinned, and I hugged her.

In the hug, she whispered in my ear. “I got you something else you may or may not want. Got it while you were in the salon. It’s called a dance belt or gaff. I’m not sure how you have everything ‘down there’, but this might help while you try things on.”

She handed me a package with a thin, flesh-colored thong. I did turn from her when I took off my skirt and panties, and was amazed at how snug everything was when I pulled the thing on. She didn’t know that I was already tucked back and my testicles up inside me; with the gaff I was absolutely flat. I pulled my panties back up and had only the perfect smooth mound. I turned around and showed her and she smiled warmly and nodded. I pulled my skirt up and we left the booth.

We looked around and Jackie got a nightgown for herself and an ivory, shimmery camisole-tap pant combo for me. When I tried them on, the gaff prevented anything from dangling. After paying, we headed for an upscale department store.

First stop, makeup. Jackie led me to a Clinique display; on the way she whispered, “Maybe not as trendy as the more expensive stuff but much better for your skin in the long run and you can get it anywhere.” She told the older lady in the white smock that I’d been a tomboy and was only now ‘blossoming’ into a young lady. I didn’t have to fake a tomboy’s blush! The lady looked at me with a rather fond smile and said her own daughter had only recently ‘moved past her tomboy phase.’ I had a makeover, which struck me as funny because it implied that I had been made up before. I thought I looked too made up, but Jackie said it was great and we bought some items, mostly moisturizer and face prep stuff. As we passed a younger, hipper counter, Jackie said to choose a lipstick and after several tests, we settled on a pink to match my nails. I was dazzled by the choices, but Jackie said we had to move on or the makeup could suck up an hour or more.

Next stop, lingerie for basics, bras and panties, some camisoles and two nightgowns. Then to the Juniors for some more tops and skirts; we decided I had enough shorts but got some jeans and capris. And last, a wonderful sundress in yellow with red flowers, and a pretty embroidered peasant top as well. We were getting loaded with bags, but Jackie said, “Just one more stop, and it’ll be light and easy to carry.”

Swimsuits. More to the point–bikinis.

I resisted at first and had to be reminded of my promise to Number Three of ‘Mom’s Five Things.’ I also was reminded of how well Jackie had planned, because it was easy trying on suits with the gaff in place. We settled on a black one-piece that was cut low in the back, and two bikinis; one yellow and the other a blue floral print. She was right, of course; the suits weighed next to nothing, so we were able to carry everything to the car, which was right outside the doors–I was completely lost, but Jackie had known where we were at all times. We off-loaded the bags and had twenty minutes to meet Carl, so we window-shopped as we walked to the fountain. Carl was standing there with two bags, one from Eddie Bauer and one from Brookstone. He said he couldn’t believe that he’d done more shopping than we had, and we burst out laughing–wait until he got to the car!

Carl then froze, and he was staring at me. I was proud and embarrassed at the same time, and he said, “My God, you’re a knockout, Laurie! Great work, Jackie!”

Jackie said she had nothing to do with it except steer me to the places that would bring ‘me’ out. But yes, she smiled and nodded to me proudly, I was a knockout.

So it was official–I was a knockout. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, actually.

We settled on a restaurant that was attached to the mall, with black and white tile floors, and lots of wood and plants. I had a salad and chicken breast, and iced tea. I really didn’t have a problem eating like this; I hadn’t really been a cheeseburger-and-fries eater. Jackie told Carl about our shopping, glossing over it so he didn’t get bothered by the items or the expense, and he told us too much about some tools he’d seen. We had talked about maybe going to a movie, but we were tired and still had the drive back. Jackie suggested we swing by a video store and get a DVD or two, and that’s what we did after dinner. Carl got The Great Escape–‘I always wanted to own it’, he said. Jackie and I settled on The Princess Diaries. I’d seen it; she hadn’t but trusted me that she’d like it. As we drove home, I realized that since the last time I’d seen the film, my life had taken on some similarities to the girl in the movie.

Chapter 11 — Moving Forward

It was overcast the next morning. We were all in sleepy mode, still in bathrobes, at breakfast. Carl laid out some chores for me with the horses, and I told him I wanted to start dumping chemicals in the pool for the pH, after vacuuming the chlorine shock. We also talked about the lake; there was an herbicide that could remove a lot of the algae and weeds; we’d have to clear out the dead and dying weeds but it was important to get started so the lake would be as clear as possible when the season started. Carl also reminded me to start wearing the cell phone/walkie-talkie from Miranda’s room from now on.

After breakfast, Jackie suggested I get used to wearing a bra every day–“It is your everyday life now, you know,” she said–and a scoop-necked top. She said I also had to get used to dressing ‘cute.’ Fine with me! So I wore a bra and the top she recommended, and some jeans for working with horses.

Carl drove us to the barn and I did the chores he’d listed; I was pretty fast and was able to get down to the pool before lunch. I tested the water and then hooked up the vacuum and long pole just as Carl came and honked for lunch.

While we were eating, the sun broke through the clouds, so I grabbed the blue floral bikini, a towel and some sun block, threw them in a backpack and Carl drove me to the pool. I didn’t hesitate; I went into the Ladies’ section and stripped, lathered up with sun block and put on the bikini. I wasn’t wearing the gaff, but the bottom was tight enough and I was small enough that I looked fine and felt secure.

It was weird walking out onto the pool deck in the bikini, even though nobody was there to see me. Nevertheless, I felt a bit exposed and self-conscious at first, so I decided to face it head-on. I knew Carl was gone, but I looked around and confirmed I was alone. So I walked. Sounds simple, but it’s hard to ‘just walk’, because you start to pay too much attention to parts of your body. I walked around the pool deck several times, trying different things with my hips and foot placement, to get the feeling of having a bikini on. I knew that when summer guests arrive, I will have to seem like I’ve worn bikinis all my life. I even tried ‘sashaying’, as Mom used to call it, by exaggerating things as ‘girly’ as possible. I cracked myself up and settled down and finally was able to walk as if wearing a bikini was no big deal.

I soon realized I’d need some sunglasses since the glare off the pool water was blinding. There was also now the matter of hair …I never had much body hair, and what I had was thin and sparse but there was enough that glistened in the sunlight when I looked at my legs. So I was going to have to shave my legs, and probably should do under my arms, too. For some reason there was a little buzz of anticipation thinking about shaving my legs.

I started the pump, picked up the pole and began to clean the bottom of the pool. I’ve always liked vacuuming a pool; you can’t move the vacuum head quickly because you’ll just stir things up. You want to vacuum up what had settled on the bottom. I sometimes got in a relaxed, trance-like state because it’s a slow, repetitive process. I completely forgot that I was now Laurie, a girl wearing a bikini, or having to shave my legs, or–especially–that my Mom was in horrible pain in the burn ward. I just got into the flow of the vacuum–and it was a big pool.

I stowed everything and checked the pH again and added the necessary chemicals, being careful to not get any on my exposed skin. And I had a lot of exposed skin! Then I checked all the filters and pumps; everything was working fine. Then I got the idea to check our parts inventory and discovered we’d need some spare gaskets and filters. I wrote down the part number information and then checked in with Jackie, who told me to sit tight for Carl. When I called Carl he said he’d be along in twenty minutes. I said I’d have to change and he told me not to bother if I still had a suit on, because we’d be checking the lake and I might be in for some swimming. I realized that keeping a paperback in my backpack might be a good idea.

I felt, well, kind of naked when Carl pulled up and I came out in the bikini. I had my towel over my shoulders, but he handled it very well–seeing me like this. We went down to the lake and got a skiff out of a small boathouse hidden under some trees. There was a mask and snorkel and some fins which we threw into the skiff. Carl fired up the tiny outboard, explaining things to me as he went along, and we cruised the perimeter of the lake, noting where the weeds were thickest. In the middle, I went over the side into the cool water and held onto the boat, then plunged down into the colder layers, exploring things. I came up for air two or three times, then hung on to the side while Carl moved the boat. It was fun, being dragged through the water; then he’d park and I’d go down some more and report back. We did this several times.

Basically the lake was clear, but there was one area out of the sun where weeds were thickest. When I came up the last time, I tossed the fins and gear into the boat and Carl helped me over the side. It was awkward, partly because I was acutely aware of wearing a bikini–I only wore it today because I thought I’d be alone, vacuuming the pool. I strained the water out of my hair and leaned back on my shoulders, enjoying the sun as Carl motored back.

We talked about plans for the lake. Carl was thinking of adding some small powered boats, but I pointed out the cost of fuel, gas fumes, danger of explosion, and the sheer cussedness of trying to keep them all working. I told him, “It’s my thought that if you don’t offer something, folks don’t miss it, but if you offer it and it isn’t available, or doesn’t work right, they get pissed.”

Carl said that was an excellent operating principle and we’d apply it to each area of the ranch. I asked about paddle boats, for the moms and kiddies, and he thought that would be great, also rowboats and a few canoes–nothing electric, combustible, or mechanical. I mentioned we’d have to have a supply of lifejackets as well as another Red Cross-certified lifeguard, and he complimented me on the thoroughness of my thinking. I think we’re going to have a great season if even half the plans come off.

Carl took me back to the pool house, where I showered, dried, and changed, then back to the house. On the way I said if we had a roped-off swimming area in the lake, we’d need to sink in some water lines for showers to get the lake organisms off. Carl nodded, thoughtful.

We had a spaghetti dinner; Jackie had told us not to get dressed up because we’d just get sauce all over ourselves. It felt weird, but I began to feel like I was actually a family member. I didn’t like the idea if it meant Mom wasn’t a part of it, but I held on to the idea that she’d join us when she was able. After all, she couldn’t go right back to work, and where could we live? Besides, I was growing to love the ranch.

We didn’t get too messy, but I got giggly because Carl let me have some red wine. He said I’d earned it for the diving and for the great ideas. I’d had wine before with Mom, but it was only a little bit of white. Carl gave me a good hefty glassful, and it was fantastic with the spaghetti and garlic bread. Watching TV, I got a little sleepy, too, and laid my head on Jackie’s shoulder until she gently told me to go to bed.

I washed up, including swabbing my ears–I’d been rotating the studs during the day–and curled up in my nightie after calling out goodnight. Zoned out fast, too.

The next day was a school day. Carl took off and Jackie and I had some quality time together before Miz B got there. I told her how weird it had been, wearing the bikini. She told me to get used to it, because I might live in it during the summer. She said I’d be the center of all boys’ attention, and it would be unavoidable. First, because I was like royalty, the ‘ranch girl’, like I owned the place even if it wasn’t the truth. It would make me cooler than the other girl campers. Second, because I was ‘so awfully pretty’ and I blushed. She nodded and said that boys would be something to deal with, paused and then asked how did I feel about that? I said that I hadn’t thought about it yet; I’d only been given my mom’s orders two days ago. She grinned, winked, and said I had to make up for lost time!

Miz B complimented me on how I looked–my hair, earrings, and the top and skirt I wore–and then we got down to business. I’d done the homework right, so we moved forward in several subjects. I noticed that the next batch of homework was getting tougher, but I’d do my best. Miz B left at lunchtime, and Carl came up and we talked about lake plans some more. He came close to raving about me to Jackie, about how creative and efficient my ideas had been, all along, from leather key rings to a shower for the lake swimmers. I blushed and studied my food but felt immensely grateful that I was being accepted by him.

After lunch, I worked on the computer with Jackie, and began sketching out some ideas for a logo for the t-shirts we’d sell at the pool. She let me off early, saying that I hadn’t had a moment to myself for some time …and if I felt like dancing, now would be a good time.

I knew what she meant; ‘Mom’s Five Things’ was in my mind all the time now. I sat on the porch and read some of my homework, then went to my room and cleaned things up, moving some clothes around since the shopping spree, and settling in. There was a small CD player all-in-one unit, but the CDs with it were all little girl stuff. I did find the soundtrack to the Disney movie Snow Day, so I put it on while I worked. By the third or fourth song, I was bopping a little in time, then bobbing my head and moving my hips, and was really moving by the end of the CD. I started it again right away and sang along with ‘Another Dumb Blonde’ and I caught sight of myself in the mirror. Rather than stop, I kept right on singing to the girl in the mirror, shaking my head and swinging my hips, like she was my BFF and we were having a sleepover and suddenly I knew why Mom had told me to dance. I felt free and girly and cute and all sorts of adjectives like that. It was the most …delicious feeling, happy and joyful. I felt like a girl, as simple as that.

Jackie gave me a knowing look when I came out to help with dinner, and said maybe we could pick up some CDs in town next time. I hugged her; she and Mom are almost magical in how they know about things. Well, they’re sisters, right?

We had a quiet dinner with a wonderful salad that Jackie had taught me to make. Cleaned up and watched TV and to bed around ten.

I’m a happy girl.

End of Part 4