What if Cinderella was right about dreams?

I dreamed of Pete asking me to go to a party. “It’s me, Pete, Audie,” I said, thinking he hadn’t recognized me dressed as a cowgirl.

“I know who you are, Audrey,” he said. I laughed at him, but he didn’t think it was funny at all. “Do you want to dance?” he asked.

Looking at my feet, first wearing boots and then the shoes we had bought to go with my milkshake dress, I said, “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Neither do I,” Pete admitted. “But I bet we both could learn.”

He reached for me, but I ran away because I didn’t want to dance before we learned how. Outside, a buffalo moon made the mountain all silver and black.

What does it mean to want to dance and not know why? I asked, but the buffalo had no answers.

*

My ears were sore when I woke up. I touched one and found the little jeweled stud there. “Oh,” I said, remembering. For a moment I resented having been persuaded to allow the earrings to be put in. But the only girl my age I knew who didn’t have pierced ears belonged to one of the odder religious groups.

And we did have some odd ones. That might have been the reason Rosa Morena Middle School had such a strict dress code. Dad had once mentioned that most of the local politicians were religious-types, and I guess that would include the school board.

I sat up and discovered someone had dressed me in my nightgown, Mom, probably. A good thing, I decided. I didn’t want my milkshake dress to get all wrinkled.

My dress. Sigh. I shivered. I loved that dress and how I looked wearing it, and I still couldn’t explain how I felt, even to myself.

I got up and checked the closet. And there hung the dress along with all the stuff we had bought, neat and put away. The wig was even on a stand on the hidden chest of drawers in the closet. And my dolls were all in a row on the shelves. I guessed Mom had had a wig stand somewhere, a thing like a blank-faced mannequin head on a stick.

My rayon dress was in a clear plastic bag as well as being hung up. The deep rose color looked even darker and richer hanging there, and I felt all sophisticated and grown-up to own and wear such a thing.

A lot of my boy clothes were gone, though. I checked. Well, not a lot but almost a third of them. Most of the ones missing didn’t fit well anymore or were worn-out, torn, or stained.

I rolled my eyes. I know I’m a sound sleeper, but how long was I out? I checked the clock, did some math, and realized it was less than an hour since Mom and I had gotten home from our expedition. Maybe Dad had done some of the sorting and culling while we were gone.

Mom would have saved everything for patching or rag-making at the least. Dad might have tossed the whole lot out. I sighed. But the only thing I really missed was my brown corduroy pants that made that neat whush-whush sound when I walked. But September was too warm for corduroy, and they were already almost too tight at the end of last winter.

I yawned widely, but I was awake now. I never have problems waking up in the morning, but if I take a nap in the daytime, I need an hour or two at least, or I’m going to wake up in a bad mood. I winced, remembering how I’d whined and fussed getting out of the car.

That’s what Daddy had meant when he told me to finish my nap as he carried me inside. I smiled a bit at that memory. I’d fallen asleep before we got to my room. It was so much like when I’d been small, and one of my parents had tucked me in. Getting dressed and undressed while asleep was sort of embarrassing but comforting too.

They hadn’t done that in a couple of years for Audie, but Audrey qualified for the “baby girl” treatment. I blushed. Daddy had called me that as he carried me. And he’d called me “Princess” when he saw me in my dress.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that yet. On the nigh hand I kinda, sorta loved being Daddy’s Princess. I guess like just about any other girl would. If you’re going to be a girl, being a princess is best. On the off hand, three days ago, I thought I was a boy.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess from sleeping while wearing the wig, and wearing the wig while I was sleeping in the car. I found my brush and comb and got to work. There was a little spray bottle of what I had called girl cooties to dampen my comb with, too, and the other spray bottle of hold. I’d have to shampoo all that stuff out later.

When I had my hair right, I put on the cheap bracelets we had got at Kmart and did my squinchy wink at my reflection. I was wearing the studs with the rose-colored gems because they had matched my dress better. “You are so not a boy,” I told the girl in the mirror, turning a little sideways to see how my bra pushed out my nightgown.

I tried a few cute poses like I had seen girls in movies or TV do, and ended up giggling at myself. It was possible, I decided, to overdo the cute. Then I realized I could hear my brothers laughing at something in the living room, Junior’s deep boom, and Moose’s baritone cackle. They were probably snacking in front of the TV unless Mom had decided to make a late dinner.

Thinking of that, I felt guilty. I should be helping her. The guys must have done the evening chores in the barns before we got home while I was out having fun shopping.

Wait.

Did I have fun shopping for girl clothes? I guess I did. I giggled and headed for the door to join my family, making a short detour to put on a pair of opera slippers. The nicer plum-colored ones. Then another longer detour because once in the hallway, I discovered I needed to go pee.

When I got to the living room, Morgan called out from his usual place on the floor, “There she is. Sleeping Beauty.” He grinned at me, and I stuck out my tongue.

Lee Junior on the couch, sat up and patted his thigh. “Come sit on my lap, chickadee. We’re watching a movie with Alex Karras. Mom’s making toasty cheese and homemade potato chips.”

One of my favorite things in the world! Open-faced cheese sandwiches toasted in the broiler with slices of tomato on top and thick potato chips made in the pressure fryer on the side. Oh! Someone needed to make the sour cream and onion dip! I started for the kitchen.

Junior reached a long arm out to snag me as I tried to go past. “I have to help Mom,” I protested.

He pulled me into his lap. I felt tiny; my big brother is huge. “Hut-uh,” he said. “Dad’s helping her, and they are having a talk.”

“They’re talking about you,” Moose put in.

Junior kicked him. “Shut up, moron.”

Moose looked offended and brushed imaginary dirt off his sleeve, but they were both wearing socks, not shoes. “They are talking about her,” he said. “Probably about how much money you spent today,” he grinned at me evilly.

Junior kicked Moose again, but this time Moose grabbed his foot and pretended to bite him on the ankle. “Why I oughtta,” said Junior.

Moose went, “Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk,” and rolled out of the way as Junior tried to stomp on his head.

This action almost threw me on the floor. “Guys, guys!” I squealed. “There’s an innocent little girl in the middle of your fighting!”

“You!?” they both said, looking at me, and we all dissolved into giggles and guffaws.

We watched the movie for a while. “Haven’t we seen this before?” I asked.

“Well, duh,” said Moose.

“It’s a tape,” said Junior. “It gets funnier every time I see it.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re the moron,” said Moose.

“Don’t start,” I told Junior who made as if to kick Morgan again. So instead, he reached a big paw out toward my head. “And don’t muss my hair!” I warned him.

“Ooo! Kitten shows her claws!” laughed Moose.

“Kitten,” Junior repeated, grinning. “That’s a good name for you. Prickly but cute.”

I hissed at him which got both of the big guys laughing. I had to turn away not to show my own grin, but I got an attack of the giggles when Junior poked me in the ribs then hugged me up to his chest.

“The thing with avoiding getting scratched by your kitten is to hold her tight,” he intoned. Moose grabbed my foot as if to worry it like a dog with a bone.

“You guys! Lemme go!” I whined. “Mom! Daddy! Help!” I pretended to struggle then really did try to get away when Junior rubbed my cheek against his neck stubble. “Ow! Lemme go, you cactus!” At seventeen, he had an impressive amount of beard.

Dad poked his head out of the kitchen, prepared to glare at us, but just as he did, my brothers both let go of me. I sat there on Junior’s lap, all three of us looking calmly back at Dad.

“Just like I thought,” said Dad with a mock scowl. “Guys, your sister is not a chew toy.”

“I told them that yesterday,” I said. I tried out one of the cute poses I had practiced, hands on my hips, nose in the air and lips pressed together, still sitting in Junior’s lap. Moose got the hiccups laughing at me.

Daddy went back to the kitchen, shaking his head.

“You might be too cute,” Junior commented, chucking me under the chin with a knuckle.

“I’m trying not to be,” I said. “But it’s really hard when you have as much talent as I do.”

* * *

Instead of onion, Dad had made sour cream garlic dip. It tasted amazing with the meal. I ate three of the cheesy toasts, as many chips as I could snag before they disappeared into the gullets of my brothers, a saucer of Jenny Fordyce’s home-canned bread-and-butter pickles, and I drank a pint of sun-tea, prepared by Moose of all people.

We chattered about our day —talking over one another— my brothers teasing me about being a spoiled princess brat, and me accusing them of animalistic deviance. They always thought it was funny when I used big words. We made monkey noises at each other until Mom had us stop because she had a stitch in her side from laughing.

The meal was a huge success, and we all ate as much as we wanted. Dad had forgotten to call for a prayer, so before we started the clean-up, we all joined hands and said, “Thanks be, amen.”

I dragged my stool over to the sink to do rinse-and-swipe, Junior packed the dishwasher and Moose ferried in the plates and bowls and wiped down the table.

Mom and Dad relaxed in front of the TV, restarting the tape.

“We’ve seen this before,” said Dad when they got to the scene around the campfire.

“Duh,” said Mom.

*

Later, no one could stay awake through another viewing of the movie. Moose was sound asleep on the floor, snoring, until Junior grabbed his leg and started towing him toward the back door.

“Gerroff!” complained Moose. Like me, Morgan tended to wake up grumpy if he hadn’t completed a full sleep cycle. He staggered to his feet and trudged off toward the utility room, Junior guiding him with touches on his shoulders.

Daddy kissed Mom and me, and we all shared hugs and happy sniffles before starting for bed.

Stopping in my bathroom for a quick shower and shampoo, I discovered that my breasts seemed to have reached a new stage. Not just pointy little cones, the base had filled out into plump cookies with the nipples sitting like caramel candies on top. They were incredibly sensitive, and I put my bra back on as soon as I was dried off.

How big were they going to get, I wondered? Mom’s chest was pretty big, and Aunt Nora even bigger. Beth Ann had more of an average size; though her waist was so tiny, she had plenty of curves. What was I hoping for?

Coffee-and would be in only about seven hours when I crawled into bed finally, a late night for the Jane clan. And tomorrow would be another stressful day since Mom, and I would be driving into Rosa Morena to register me for school. Well, I was already registered but to change things so I could attend as a girl.

Outside, a wind blew and somewhere, cattle were complaining about it. The moaning noise could be spooky if you didn’t know what made it. I drifted toward sleep, wondering if the wind meant the weather was about to change.

Maybe there had been too many changes already, I thought. Through a gap in the drapes, I glimpsed a single bright star shining over the mountains. I tried to make a wish but fell asleep before I could think of what to wish for.

*