1982
Northern California

Troy Patterson stood in the kitchen and watched as his mother's car pull out of the driveway that early August morning. His father was already gone off on a week long fishing trip with his friends. His older brother, and constant tormentor, Vance, was with his mother to go to hang out with friends for the weekend. In the background he could hear the beginnings of another cartoon. Yet, unlike most eleven year old, he wasn't paying attention to the TV anymore. He had been waiting patiently for the house to empty....well maybe not too patiently.

He was barely able to keep still as his mother and brother were getting ready to go. Now that she was gone, he waited that extra couple of seconds before he darted into his mothers room. His heart raced in anticipation as he opened up his mothers closet. There it was, a treasure trove of clothes. Skirts, dresses, blouses. He didn't know where to start, so he ran his fingers over the fabric, feeling tingles of excitement race down his spine.

He pulled out one that had become his favorite, an navy blue skirt. He grabbed for the matching blouse and then began to strip out of his shorts and shirt. He didn't change his underwear. He had no sisters to borrow from and he was smaller then his mother. Plus he knew his mother kept the drawers to her dresser in a way that she knew when anything was moved.

He pulled on the skirt but it hung around his hips, so as usual he cheated by using a belt to keep it on. As he drew the belt tight, his now free hand ran up the frilly blouse. He couldn't help doing this. Every chance he had he found himself in his mothers room and it always ended with him in her clothes. One he had pulled the blouse on, he ran his fingers through his short curly hair, fluffing it out. He looked at the makeup that his mother kept on her night stand. He knew it was foolish to even try. Once he had used the lipstick and somehow, just by where he left it, she knew. As he moved in front of the mirror, he kept fluffing his hair, taking stock of the boy, who which fluff of his hair, slowly became an eleven year old girl.

Troy wasn't the tallest kid in his class. In fact he was just about average all around. He was around four and a half feet tall, and almost ninety pounds, being slightly overweight. His father made sure that his hair was kept short, which was a blessing of sorts, as Tory's hair was naturally curly, so the more he teased it, the more it curled. When he was done he gave the mirror a shy smile and turned slightly to the side, looking at the profile of the cute girl he saw there.

He was so drawn into his own little world that he hadn't heard the door open. It was only when the TV shut off that he knew he was in trouble. The house his parents lived in was small, with just two bedrooms and a single bath. It had been a farmhouse built around the end of the first World War. The layout was a simple one, almost a square , with a wall in the center. From the main and only door, you stepped into the living room. To the right was the kitchen. A left turn from there took you to the hall that had the room that he shared with Vance. Past that was a bathroom. But straight from the front door to the house was his parent's room. His parents had no door to their room, just curtains that hung there. A door on one wall of the main bedroom led to the shared bathroom.

There was only one choice on who had come home. His mother hadn't been gone long enough and his father was gone, this left his Paternal Grandfather who lived next door with his grandmother. He was the one family member the young boy hated with a passion. The roots of his self esteem problems could be traced to the older man, who had often informed the boy he was only born to give free labor on the farm. He knew he would be caught if he stayed where he was, so in a fit of desperation he grabbed his clothes from the bed and ran into the bathroom. He knew if he could change before he was caught, he was home free.

As he pushed the door that led to the hall open he saw his grandmother, wearing a house coat, leaning on a cane and watching him. She raised an eyebrow and just watched him. She wasn't too old, just around sixty, but osteoporosis had made it hard for her to get around. She rarely left the house, other then to go see her doctors. But despite this weakness, she was the true voice of the family. If she spoke, it happened. No one, not even her own almost forty year old son would dare cross her. But she was also a typical grandmother and her love for her grandchildren showed often. He dropped his clothes and flung himself into his room and on his bed.

Troy curled up in a ball and began to sob into his pillow. It was all over, he knew it. She'd tell his mother, who would tell his father. Then Vance and his grandfather would hear. It was only a matter of time. He could hear the sounds of something being drug down the hall, then into his room. The sounds continued, muffled by the carpet, till it stopped by his bed. He didn't move, till a hand touched his shoulder and he flinched.

“It's okay, Troy. I'm not mad at you.” The older woman's voice was soothing. She rubbed his shoulder , trying to comfort him as best as she could. “Come on and sit up, I'd like to talk to you.”

He stay still, his heart pounding away in his chest. He knew it was pointless, but he still didn't want her to see him like this. He summoned up his courage, hoping he could discourage her and send her away. “No. I don't want to and you can't make me.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head, then let go of his shoulder and sat up. “Troy, Allen Patterson, I asked you kindly. Do not make me tell you. You know what happens when I get mad, please, don't push me.”

He had flinched from the use of all three names, but for her to threaten that she'd get mad. He had no choice. So he rolled over and sat up, but kept his eyes on the floor of his bedroom.”

“There, that's much better.” She said and flashed him that Grandmotherly smile that had always relaxed him. “I've had my suspicions for a while, you mom has too. That's why she sent me over here.”

He looked up, but only briefly. “Mom sent you? She knows about...” He trialed off and looked at the floor again. “About me wearing her clothes?”

“Yes, She's been noticing that each time she's left you home, her closet gets rearranged.” His grandmother replied. She leaned forward and wiped the tears out of his eyes. “But she's not mad, neither am I.”

“Are you going to tell Vance and Dad and Grandpa?” He asked.

“No child. I'm not that mean.” She gave a little laugh, the kind that all grandmothers had. “I just want to know a few things. We used to talk all the time, but lately, you hide away from the world. I'm scared for you. So can we talk?”

He thought about it for a while. She was right, they used to talk all the time when he'd visit for a couple hours each day, but that had changed a couple years back, when he had first put on a skirt. He missed his grandmothers talk, so he nodded and whispered. “Yes.”

“Well I guess my first question is do you want to be a girl?” She asked.

He shook his head and kept watching that one spot on the floor. “No. I like being a boy, I just....” He sighed and looked up. “Promise you're not mad and won't yell?”

His grandmother nodded. “I promise.”

He waited for a second, then continued. “I like being a boy, I just like wearing girls clothes too. It's...” He began to cry again, this time she was ready and offered him a tissue. His gaze fell back to the floor once more.

“Take your time.” She said, waiting for him to calm down.

Troy sighed again and shook his head. “It's...when I wear this, I pretend that I'm not Troy. I act like there''s no Vance, no Dad. No one yelling at me because I cry too much. No one yelling at me because I can't catch a baseball. No boy's beating me up.....” He began sobbing again.

From the living room the door opened up and his mothers voice called out. “Troy, Sweetie?”

“He's in his room, Maggie.” Troy's Grandma called out.

The little boy was still on the bed, bent over a bit more as his sobs increased. Maggie stopped at the door way for a moment. “Modine, is he okay?” Maggie asked.

“He could really use his mother right now.” Modine replied.

Maggie sat on the bed next to him and hugged the little boy tightly to her side, While Modine went over the conversation so far. When she was finished Maggie kissed Troy's forehead. “Sweetie, I am sorry about Vance, and God knows your father tries, he really does. He's just set in his ways.” She kissed him once more. “I'm afraid that you may get caught by your brother one of these times.”

Modine nodded. “Knowing Vance he's take total advance of it.” She leaned back in her seat, then smiled. “Troy, how often do you like wearing the girls clothes? About once a week?”

Troy nodded and looked at her. “Usually when Mom is shopping and Vance and Dad are gone.”

“I see.....” She began to rub her chin while she thought for a moment, then her smile showed as she leaned forward, looking at the child on the bed. “What if I let you come over to my place and dress up once a month. Your Grandfather takes a trip to Reno for gambling once a month. He's gone for most of the day, so you could stay there till he comes home if you want.”

Troy smiled. “I'd like that.” Then his smile faded. “Wait, just once a month?”

“For now. Maybe we can work out a new place to go after awhile. This way you can relax and Vance won't be allowed over.” Modine put a hand on his shoulder. “So what do you think?”

He smiled again. “I'd love to.”