Orphaned at age 14, Angelo is a delicate boy who may be the lovely daughter that his new foster mother always wanted. Their mother-daughter relationship runs into obstacles that challenges him becoming the girl he really is.

The Foster Mom’s New Daughter — Part One

By Katherine Day
(Copyright 2007 by Katherine Anne Day)
(Dedicated to and inspired by Angelo, of Rome, Italy)

Chapter One: A New Home

Mary Elizabeth Dayton was surprised to see her foster home placement worker on Monday afternoon.

“You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, Anna. What’s up?”

“Oh, Mrs. Dayton, this isn’t a home inspection visit. We’ve completed that and your home is immaculate. We’re pleased to have you on board with us.”

Mary breathed a sigh of relief; she had indeed felt she had passed the inspection with flying colors, but with state bureaucracies you never knew. While her worker, Anna Simms, an eager, young African-American with a round face, and sparkling smile, had been encouraging, the home inspector who studied her ranch home in the urban working class neighborhood had been dour and grumpy.

“Oh that’s fine. Come in.” Mary said, opening the door, still puzzled for the visit.

Anna declined the invitation for coffee, and said: “I’ve got bad news, and good news. At least, I hope you’ll find it’s good news.”

Mary was shocked, wondering what was happening.

“I know you were ready to accept Julia into your home tomorrow,” Anna began. “But something has happened that’ll make that impossible.”

“Oh?” Mary asked, puzzled, and saddened, since she had prepared a lovely girl’s room for her new foster child, a 15 year old girl named Julia. The two had met, and Mary had found Julia to be a delightful, but terribly shy young girl, one who would benefit from the kind of nurturing that Mary had practiced with her three boys, now grown, gone, married and successes in the world.

“Julia’s mom has successfully completed her rehab, and now wants her child back,” Anna continued.

“Is she going back to her mom now, immediately?”

“No. We can’t risk that now,” Anna explained. “But we felt it wouldn’t be fair to Julia to move her again, if she could only stay here for a few months and then be returned to her mom. She’ll be better off staying where she is while we check out to see if Julia’s mom can take her.”

Mary sighed. “I guess that’s for the best. But I had my heart set on Julia. She was so sweet.”

“I know, Mrs. Dayton, but I have no other teen girls ready for care now.”

“Oh. I’m so ready for a child,” Mary said.

“I do have a boy, also 15, who needs your kind of care, Mrs. Dayton.”

“A boy. I’m not set up for a boy. The room is designed for a girl.”

“I know you wanted a girl, Mary,” Anna said, switching to calling the prospective foster mom by her first name. “This is a very special boy. His name is Angelo, and he’s the sweetest, shyest little boy. I’m sure you’ll take to him.”

Mary’s interest was peaked, as Anna explained Angelo was orphaned a year ago and was placed with an aunt where his boy cousins constantly harassed and beat up on him. “He needs a nurturing loving household, Mary, and I know you could provide that.”

“Oh, boys can be so rough and tumble. I raised three of them, you know?” Mary said.

“Oh not this boy. Angelo is a very smart boy, but he’s small for his age, so he has trouble with other boys. He likes to read a lot, and he seems to like to do the quiet things.”

Mary was interested, but really wasn’t sure. She really wanted a girl, but she agreed that Anna could bring Angelo for a visit the next day so the two could get acquainted.

Of all the child welfare workers that had handled his case, Angelo found Anna Simms to be the kindest and most concerned. She was young, just out of college, and she took her cases seriously; in truth, she was not sure of herself yet, and often wondered how she could even be trusted with the job of trying to save children.

Angelo thought Anna was very pretty, and always liked how she dressed. Anna, of course, being a self-conscious young woman, thought she was too fat, her face too round and her hips too big. She was careful to dress in simple styles, usually flowing skirts, flats and loose blouses of single colors.

At her third visit with Angelo, Anna wore a floral, taffeta skirt of a mixture of violets, greens and browns and a plain violet peasant blouse. The boy smiled broadly at her, saying, “You’re dressed pretty today, Miss Simms.”

“Why, thank you, Angelo. It’s nice of you to notice. But this is just a plain outfit.”

“It’s such a bright, cheerful skirt and you look nice in it.”

“It’s so nice you notice things like that. You’ll find your girl friends will enjoy compliments like.”

Angelo blushed. He, of course, had no girl friends, but he did enjoy the company of girls. While at the current foster home, he befriended a neighbor girl his own age, and the two of them usually did things together, going to the movies, taking trips to the mall and watching her shop for clothes. He never liked doing things with boys; he felt awkward with boys, feeling unable to compete.

On the day of the visit, Anna was dressed in a brown plain pencil skirt, a pink camisole under a gold jacket and short heels. Angelo, of course, complimented her as he usually did, as the two walked to her car for the trip to Mrs. Dayton’s home.

“Are there going to be other boys at her house?” Angelo asked during the drive.

“No, honey, you’ll be the only child there. She’s a widow and had three sons, all of whom live elsewhere. She’s very nice.”

Angelo was silent, looking at the small houses that lined the street, all with lawns neatly mowed. He had never before lived in any kind of an orderly household, having been raised by a mentally unstable single mother, so that by the age of eight he often had assumed the household chores like cooking, washing clothes and keeping house clean.

“Oh, if she’s used to boys, she won’t want me,” he said to Anna.

“Why do you say that?” She was stopped at a red light, and looked over to see this diminutive boy. He looked so tiny and scared. She couldn’t help thinking he looked very much like a young teen girl, with his slender arms, narrow shoulders and long dark hair that flowed to his neckline.

Angelo reddened. “Well I’m not big or strong. I bet her boys were. She’ll hate me for being so weak.”

“Oh no, honey, Mrs. Dayton is very kind. You’ll like her.”

Angelo hung back as they rang the doorbell at Mrs. Dayton’s home; in what seemed just an flick of a second, the door opened and Mrs. Dayton stood there, tall, commanding and seemingly filling the whole door.

“Come on in you two. I’m so anxious to see you Angelo,” she said with a pleasing lilt to her rather husky voice.

Anna introduced Angelo who held out his slender hand, finding it lost in the grip of the older woman’s hand.

“Anna has told me so much about you, Angelo. I can see why she wants you to be in a good home. You look like such a sweet boy.”

“Thank you,” Angelo said, knowing he wasn’t always “sweet,” and had shown his times of temper or stubbornness, particularly with people who didn’t treat him nicely. In times of frustration, he was known to cry, often loudly. “Quit crying like a girl,” his uncle had told him roughly.

Mrs. Dayton had prepared punch and cookies for the visit, which they enjoyed at her kitchen table, a modest room, but sparklingly clean. Angelo was impressed when he saw no unwashed dishes in the sink; at his current foster home, the floor was sticky with spilled Kool-Aid or table scraps and dishes were piled high in the kitchen.

Mrs. Dayton had a warm smile and a pleasant laugh, coupled with her husky voice. As Angelo feared, her boys were big and strong; framed pictures displayed all three of them in football uniforms from their days in high school.

Anna said Angelo would be free to move in within a week, if Mrs. Dayton was ready for him.

“Well, that may be a problem,” the older woman replied. “The room I planned for a foster child is set up for a girl. I thought I was getting a girl.”

Angelo felt crushed. He liked this lady, and could see she’d be a marvelous foster parent, perhaps the kindest he’d ever lived with.

“How soon could you get it changed over?” Anna asked.

“I’m not sure. I had it painted all pink and white, with some pretty flower designs; even the bedspreads and curtains and other furniture are for a girl. I can’t afford now to change it.”

Angelo felt tears well up, as he considered the possibility that he wouldn’t be staying in this house.

“Anna, Mrs. Dayton,” he said, tentatively. “I won’t care how it’s painted. I like it here.”

“Let’s look at it,” Anna suggested.

Angelo had to admit when he saw the room; it was clearly set up for a girl. There was a canopy bed, with pink, yellow and blue lace trimming the top, with matching bedspread. There was a vanity draped with similar cloth and lovely drapes. There was a fluffy stuffed rabbit in the middle of the bed and two white stuffed cats sitting in the reading chair, also with cushions and back rests of the same design. The room even had a sweet perfumed smell.

“Well, now you know what I meant,” Mrs. Dayton said.

Angelo entered the room, walking in front of the two women, and ran his hands over the cover of the bed. It was obviously a brand new bed, and he was pleased that he would be its first occupant.

Anna said. “Yes, it’s too bad. This is really for a girl.”

Angelo felt a pang of fear: Were they not going to let him stay in this house, just because of the way the room was decorated?

“Can’t I stay with Mrs. Dayton?” Angelo asked. “This house is so nice.”

“Well, it’s up to her,” Anna said. “She wanted a girl.”

Angelo couldn’t help it now; he started to cry, just a soft sniffle, but definitely he was crying. In his own mind, he was telling himself: “I can be a girl for her.”

Anna quickly came to him, hugging him, and brushing his face with a tissue. Mrs. Dayton came over to him as well, holding his hand.

“You’re such a darling,” Mrs. Dayton said. “If he doesn’t mind the room, I’d be glad to have him.”

“Oh Mrs. Dayton,” Angelo said, looking up with his tear-stained face. “I like the room. I can stay here, then?”

“Oh yes, you can, once we get all the details taken care of,” Anna said. “Would it be OK, Mary, if we let Angelo stay in here to get acquainted, while we talk in the kitchen?”

“Yes, Angelo, make yourself at home here. Don’t worry about all the girl clothes in the closet and dresser. We’ll take those out before you return.”

“Oh I don’t have much. You can keep them in there if you want,” Angelo said.

He’d never slept in a room by himself before. This would be heaven. The room felt comfortable to him, even though it was fitted for a girl. He pictured himself sleeping in the bed, his hair flowing prettily on the pillow, looking very much like a girl.

Yes, he felt now, this room would be perfect for him. As he sat in the chair, holding both fluffy stuffed cats, he felt so much at home. When Anna and Mrs. Dayton returned, Angelo had curled himself up in the chair, his legs tucked under him, gently petting the stuffed animals. The two stopped at the door, momentarily looking at this very pretty boy so at peace in this room meant for a girl. Mary Elizabeth Dayton now realized she had found just exactly the sweet child she had been looking for. He looked so fragile and delicate and, she realized, so much like a girl.

Chapter Two: The Dress

It was all arranged: Anna Simms would bring Angelo over Friday morning to begin his stay with Mary Elizabeth Dayton. His prospective foster mother had already instructed Angelo to call her “mother” or “mummy” from now on.

“I finally have a daughter,” Mary mused to herself as she and the social worker had found Angelo cuddling the stuffed animals, looking so much like a girl.

“So you’ve got a foster child now, Mrs. Dayton?” Anna Simms said. “He looks so happy to be here, I can see.”

The boy had been day-dreaming when the two entered the room, realizing how comfortable it would be with Mrs. Dayton. In truth, he felt he’d be so happy not to be facing those nasty boys in his current home-setting; now, he would be able to follow his own inclinations, which often led to reading, writing poetry, doing rough drawings of women’s fashions, and fantasizing about being a girl. Angelo also loved to paint flowers and floral settings, prompting his 9th grade art teacher to praise him for his sense of color. “You’re pictures have an airy, sweetness to them,” she had told him.

When he woke to the realization that the two women were watching him, and heard them say “it’s all arranged,” he leaped from the chair, still holding the fluffy stuffed cats, and skipped across he room.

“Really? Really? I can live here. This is just the best room I could ever have.”

“Oh you like it this way?” Mrs. Dayton said.

“Oh yes,” Angelo said excitedly. Suddenly he stopped himself, realizing he told the two women he liked the room as it was, all frilly and girly. “Oh, it’s nice, but I suppose it’s not too much like a boy’s room. But, I don’t mind. I don’t want to put you to any trouble, Mrs. Dayton . . . I mean, mother.”

Mrs. Dayton drew him tightly to her body, hugging him firmly, but gently. “I think you and I’ll do just fine together.”

After they were gone, Mary Elizabeth Dayton was truly excited. Her disappointment at not having been given a girl to raise as a foster child was quickly overcome by watching Angelo during the visit. This pretty child would easily become the daughter she always wanted, she was sure. The best part of it, too, was that she felt certain he would love being her “daughter” just as if he’d been born a girl.

Ten minutes later, Mary Elizabeth Dayton was on the phone to Sharon Caldwell, her dearest friend.

“Well, I met my new foster child. She’s a 15-year-old sweetheart. I think I’ll love her so much.”

“Oh Mary, that’s so nice. What’s her name?”

“Angelo. She’s got light brown hair and is cute as a button.”

“Angelo?” Her friend asked. “That’s a boy’s name, isn’t it?”

“Oh my, yes. Actually, he is a boy, but he’s so pretty and he looks so fragile. Not at all like a boy.”

“Mary. Watch out. You don’t want to be calling him a girl to his face.”

“Sharon. I think he likes it. I think he’s a girl at heart. I’ll bet you I’ll have him in dresses in a week.”

Her friend didn’t reply right away.

“Sharon, Angelo could be a nice friend for your Tanya.”

“I suppose, Mary. But do be careful. Child welfare won’t want you monkeying around with his gender.”

“Really, Sharon. You and Tanya should come visit us next weekend. You can see for yourself how pretty my little child is.”

Mary Elizabeth hung up the phone, now busy plotting as to how to turn lovely Angelo into a girl. She was smiling, thinking of how the child would look in the pink baby doll she purchased for Julia, the girl she was originally expecting.

****
Angelo had returned to his aunt’s house, retreating to the tiny bedroom in which he shared a bunk bed with Tony, his 13-year-old cousin. Angelo had grown to despise the younger boy, who was already taller than Angelo’s five-foot three-inches, and demonstrably stronger with a developing muscular frame. The younger boy seemed to take great pride in grabbing Angelo by his skinny, weak arm, and doubling it back. Much as he tried to resist crying, Angelo eventually would cry, “Stop It,” with tears coming down his face.

“Say pretty please, little girl,” he loved to taunt Angelo.

It was obvious Tony had seen the girliness in his cousin’s mannerisms, the way he flicked his hair and tucked his feet under his butt while studying or drawing pictures. Angelo tried to hide his gentle nature while in this family, which thrived on meanness and macho activity. Even Maria, Tony’s sister, had pinned Angelo down in a wrestling match in the living room.

Angelo felt shame at his weakness, at being unable to defend himself physically, even against girls. Instead, he took great comfort in those moments he could picture himself as a girl, retreating into a girl’s world of beauty, gentleness and love.

He laid in his upper bunk, wishing tomorrow would be Friday and he could leave this nasty house and move in with his new mummy where she was ready to treat him with gentleness and love. He found himself, for the first time in his life, looking ahead to when he could be as girlish as he wanted; perhaps, he even wondered, he could be a girl. He dosed off finally, nurturing the thought, believing it possible since he was so feminine in nature.

The next morning he awoke with even greater anticipation. His new mummy wanted a girl, he knew. Perhaps, he felt, I can be that girl. In the privacy of the bathroom, he posed in front of the mirror, his body naked. “Oh yes,” he mused. “I can be a girl.” He posed coquettishly, flicking his hair with a limp hand and now admiring his slender, pretty body. It was a smooth body, unmarked with muscular bulges; narrow shoulders and thin arms added to the illusion. Yes, he felt, he could be a sweet girl.

*****

It was a beautiful, warm summer day when Anna Simms picked Angelo in the early afternoon Friday; there were no tearful good-byes from his aunt or Tony and Maria, although Maria did whisper into Angelo’s ear that she would miss him. “I’ll miss you too, Maria,” he said. “We had some fun playing.”

Maria laughed: “I remember how you and I used to run to the park and play hide and seek. Remember when you couldn’t find me and got scared and went home for Tony.”

Angelo reddened. When he couldn’t find her, he got afraid. He thought maybe somebody had kidnapped her, and had run excitedly in the park, his arms flailing about like a girl, getting the whole family looking for Maria, who was perched in the crotch of a tree all the time, hidden by leaves.

Yet, he liked Maria, though she was only 12 and he about 15. Their fun was innocent and easy going, with Angelo seemingly fitting into the world of 12-year-old girls.

Anna Simms was quiet in the trip over, saying only: “I hope this works for you, Angelo. If you’re not comfortable, I want to know right away, OK?”

“Oh Miss Anna, I think this will be OK. Mrs. Dayton seems to want me, even though I’m not the girl she wanted. And, I think I’ll like her.”

Anna placed her right hand gently on Angelo’s arm as she drove on, saying: “Well, you’re really a nice boy. I want you to be happy there.”

Angelo smiled. He was convinced he’d be happy there, particularly in the girlish atmosphere of his new room.

“You can take you’re stuff right to the bedroom, Angelo,” Mary Elizabeth Dayton said after Anna Simms had completed the details of the placement and left.

“Ok, Mummy,” he said, picking up his one suitcase and a plastic bag of his few art materials and books.

“I’m afraid I haven’t cleaned out all the girl stuff yet.”

“Oh that’s OK. The room is fine.”

“We can take down all the frilly decorations and put up a few soccer posters or something that’s better for a boy once you settle in.”

‘Oh, mummy,” Angelo said, stopping in his walk to the room. “That’s fine. I like the room the way it is.”

Mary Elizabeth smiled to herself. She was going to have no trouble making him into a lovely girl.

“Mummy,” Angelo yelled from the room. “Come here please.”

“Yes, honey,” she said, hurrying into the room, knowing full well what was causing Angelo’s yell.

“You have a pink dress laid out on the bed. Should I put it back in the closet?”

“No honey, I thought you might like to wear it later for me.”

“Me? Why? I’m a boy.”

“Well, I think you’d look lovely in it.”

‘Oh but mummy? Do I have to?”

“Only if you want to. I won’t force you, but when you here the other day I noticed you had taken it out of the closet. You held it up to yourself in front of the mirror. I saw you from the kitchen in the mirror reflection. You looked so pretty in it.”

“Oh but mummy. Is that right for me to wear girl’s stuff? What if somebody sees me?”

“There’s no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ in that,” Mary Elizabeth said. “If you like wearing girl’s clothes, do it. We’ll just do it here in the house. No one else will know.”

“Mummy. I might like to try it one time. Just for you. I want you to be happy you’re letting me live with you.”

“Honey, I’m happy having you however you dress.”

She gave Angelo a tender hug, and the boy responded by hugging her back even more firmly. She felt his delicate, dainty body within her sturdy hug, suddenly realizing how ill-prepared this boy would ever fit into the tough, hard world of men.

Mary Elizabeth then went into the dresser, finding pink satin panties and a lacy matching bra, both still in their packaging.

“I bought these expecting another girl, named Julia, but she’s going back to her mother, so I’m pleased for her.”

“Were all these clothes for her then?”

“Yes, and I can take them back, but they look pretty much to be your size. If you like them, we’ll keep them.”

Angelo blushed. He liked the clothes very much; he’d examined them the other day and day-dreamed about wearing them.

“I’ve never seen so many nice clothes for a girl,” Angelo said. “Most of the girls in school all dress so ratty these days.”

Mary Elizabeth began opening the bra and panty package, explaining: “I want you to totally undress and then put on the panties.”

Angelo hesitated. “Now?”

“Yes, silly, now. You’re so cute. I raised three boys so I know what your plumbing looks like,” she laughed.

Nonetheless, Angelo turned his back to Mary Elizabeth, totally disrobing, leaving his pants, shirt and underwear in a clump on the floor, and quickly stepping into the panty.

“Now, my darling,” Mary Elizabeth said firmly. “Girls keep their rooms neat and don’t drop their clothes any place on the floor. Pick those clothes up, and fold them neatly on the chair.”

“I’m sorry mummy,” he said, now stooping over to do as ordered.

The new foster mother smiled to herself, as she saw this 15-year-old boy, wearing only panties before her. He was so tender-looking; his narrow shoulders, slender arms, smooth back and cute behind made him look completely girlish. She knew he’d soon love being the girl she always wanted; in fact, he’d be perhaps sweeter than any other girl in the foster care system.

She helped him on with the bra, stuffing some tissues into the cups, realizing that she’d have to get breast forms soon.

Mary Elizabeth took a new pair of knee-highs out of a package, and ordered Angelo to sit in the chair, sticking out one leg at a time while she slowly put on each stocking. She marveled at Angelo’s slender feet and ankles and soft thighs. This child was too beautiful, too feminine to waste in boy clothes, she mused.

“Watch me how I do this,” she demanded. “Soon you’ll have to do this on your own.”

“Yes, mummy,” he answered, slowly beginning to realize that his new mummy was aiming at making him into a girl. His brain told him he should tell her to stop, but his mouth said nothing.

She placed the feet into the stocking she had rolled up, filling out the feet, then ankles, calves and finally the thighs. She smooth out the coffee-colored sheer hose as she did it.

“Could you do this on your own?”

“Yes, mummy. I watched my own mother do that.”

They put the baby doll dress on over his head, and tied the cloth belt that created a high waist, with the flowing skirt ending in mid thigh. The dress had a square bodice, and fluffy lace trim. His skinny arms poked out of puffed-up short sleeves, and the dress flowed generously below the waist, accentuating the breadth of his hips.

Sadly the shoes, black patent leather pumps, without a heel, were tight on his feet, but still wearable.

“We’ll have to return these tomorrow and get you some that fit,” she told the boy.

“Let me see how I look,” he said.

But, she held him back. “No. Let’s finish you up first.”

She brushed his hair, a fine light brown hair. It went to his neck and could be fashioned either as a boy or girl style. She brushed it back, letting it flow naturally, then wrapping a pink ribbon over the back.

She then applied lipstick, a light pink color that brightened and made his full lips glow. She following with eyeliner and darkened his eyebrows a bit, trimming them slightly with a scissors.

“Now stand up, my dear,” she ordered. “And look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Oh mummy,” he squealed. “I’m pretty.”

Angelo saw only a teen girl staring back. He did a little twirl, daintily flicking his hand, posing as a model, although in an awkward manner.

“No darling, you’re beautiful,” she responded, hugging him tightly as the two looked in the mirror together.

“And mummy,” the boy said. “You’re beautiful, too. I love the dress you wore today.”

“Why thank you honey. I wore this just for you. Mummy doesn’t get much chance to dress up these days, and I thought I would. This is such a special occasion.”

Mary Elizabeth was a tall women, still slim, but with a little tummy developing. On this day, she wore a blue chiffon dress over a light blue slip. Even in her mid-fifties, she still had lovely, slender legs and a pretty neck. She let her hair flow freely, and had modest lipstick on.

“Mummy, I think we’re both beautiful,” Angelo said, adding after a hesitation. “Just like mother and daughter.”

Mary Elizabeth and Angelo smiled into the mirror. Yes, indeed, she thought, mother and daughter.

“But Angelo is no name for a girl,” she said. “What shall your name be?”

The boy thought for a minute. “Why not Angela?”

“Why not?” she said. And they both hugged again.