Friday night, when I slept my dream relived my putting on the ballet slippers with Tonya’s help; I enjoyed them for a moment and just as quickly had them off. When Mom said, “I guess that takes you back to when Angie had dance lessons, and you said you wanted them. Sorry, but we didn’t take that request seriously.”

I woke up and I said to myself, “I think dad did, and that’s why it didn’t happen. I got many clues over the years that girl things weren’t for boys. Dad was proud enough that Angie could shoot a basketball or throw a baseball. I could too but that was expected of me.”

I heard an echo in my mind, “Your Dad was just trying to protect you from what others would say. It may not be fair that girls can do boy things, but that is the way it has been. But things are changing.”

Back to now, Rose soon mentioned that she needed to get home, especially if I’m to take them home.

Mom said, “Rose, you can leave them if Tonya and Russ don’t mind being my delivery girls. Russ knows how to do it.” Rose left and there were three deliveries we were to make; actually, four but two were to the hospital.

Mom gave Tonya and I tops for Short’s Floral, Gifts & More which we discretely put on. There are spots in the delivery van that hold various containers properly. The first task is to get them in securely and use the proper partitions to keep them safe. Next is mom’s lecture on how I’m to drive and a reminder to Tonya to remind me as needed.

We delivered a birthday bouquet and a balloon to one woman. That was enroute to the hospital.

We checked at the hospital desk to make sure we had the correct room numbers, which we did. But then we were told to leave them for their volunteer to deliver them. That stunk as one arrangement was more sensitive to delays and proper handling. The receptionist called to the floor that the arrangement was to be delivered to. The head nurse there saw no problem and knew the patient could use encouragement. We were then permitted to deliver both arrangements. Gertrude the recipient of the flower arrangement gave out a laugh as she recognized me.

“What has Master Russell looking like a younger Miss. Short,” she laughs. And she readily jumps to the conclusion, “This is the real you, isn’t it?”

I had not seen Gert in over a year and I had not recognized her full name. I know I blushed, as Tonya spoke up. “You don’t seem shaken by him as Shelby? …Sorry forgot my manners. How are you, Mrs. Hedden?”

Gert responded with a brighter smile, “I am better with something to cheer me up.” She opened the little card and learned her sister remembered her and was on her way. Tonya and I shortened my story as much as we could. Finally, I excused ourselves saying we needed to deliver the other arrangement of flowers.

The last arrangement was to the best area of biggest houses and finest properties in the community. Mrs. Biggs’ servant answered the door; she made us go in and take the bouquet to Mrs. Biggs in their sitting room. Where she was entertaining three quests.

“My did Ms. Short outdo herself sending two lovely people to deliver my flowers. Sorry Russell, but with your mom’s shirt, your slender frame, and some extra curl in your hair. Well, you know what I mean.”

I introduced, “Tonya Williams is helping me this afternoon.”

Mrs. Biggs made a fuss and required us to sit a moment and enjoy a cookie and some tea. She even fussed until I sat straight up like Tonya. Having a cookie on a napkin and a cup of tea balanced on my legs; is something I had thought about. Now it made me nervous, very nervous. I imitated Tonya and lived through the experience. I took Tonya home before I went back to the shop.

Mom and Maisy giggled when they heard of our experiences. There were two late calls for deliveries. Thus I got to take Tonya home, deliver the flowers and take the delivery van home for the night.

Now here I am worried about my world crashing in around me. My Dad was angry and had trouble coming to grips with his son possibly being a girl.

“Damn son, I was grieved enough that your build is wrong; you’re not the son I wanted. Now, I find out you don’t even want to be a man.”

“Daddy, I didn’t say that,” I said.

He said, “This isn’t the Waltons, a guy doesn’t say ‘Daddy’. I don’t want you killing yourself. I do love you but this is a lot to get my mind around. You’re going to need to give me some space… Does Grandma Short know about this; I hope it doesn’t kill her.”

Mom said, “No we haven’t told anyone yet?”

Dad raises his voice again, “The Andrews, they’re nobody. You said, Three girls know, they’re all nobody.” My Dad’s language and the whole conversation were colorful. It would have been funny if it was a sitcom.

Dad came over to me with his arms out wide. I was going to be hugged or thrown across the room. My father began to cry as he hugged me. “I’m sorry Honey, you look as pretty as a princess, but I was hoping you were going to be different… Your grandmother tried to tell me about this years ago.”

My Mom informed my Dad that I was one of her delivery girls yesterday afternoon. And that she had heard from Gertrude Hedden, who had been ailing and found herself brightened by the appearance of our daughter Shelby.

Mom said, “Everyone has not been talking and acknowledging this for so long; it is a relief to me that it’s out. I suspect someone will try to make this out to be worse than it is.”

Angie came to the kitchen, “Since I didn’t hear an explosion of some sort, I thought it would be safe to see if I have a brother or sister.”

Mom told her, “The Andrews coming over and helping to bring an understanding that what is happening is normal for Shelby. We’re going to take the weekend and then day by day…”

“Shelby, I haven’t told you yet, but I have a therapist friend, Dr. Marie who can see you bright and early Monday at 8:00 a.m. You will probably miss school then and decide who goes to school on Tuesday.”

The doorbell rang and I was encouraged to open the door. Maisy was personally delivering a bouquet and balloons. It was from my mom’s floral and gift shop and for me. There was a smaller gift, that would have been lost to most upon the first observance, but not by me. Tied halfway up the ribbon of one balloon was a pinkie ring. The flowers and balloons were girly enough, but they would fade or lose their air. The ring was there to be worn as long as I liked, and to enjoy I’m a girl.

I asked, “Mom, when do you think I should come out as Shelby and go to school as her?”

Dad spoke up quickly, “You said, you’re Shelby so no waiting. Either be her or don’t pretend she’s you!” I tried to speak up, “No!” Dad said, “You have my support, do you want to be her or not?”

“Hold on, Shelby just give your Dad time to get his head around this. Go upstairs and I’ll be up with you in a little way. Stay dressed as we should go shopping for the clothes, you need.”

I went upstairs to my room and heard my folks talking loudly. I heard Dad, “The past few days he looked more than comfortable being Shelby. You have no trouble buying a wardrobe for her… I bet by now the word is getting around anyway.”

Mom came upstairs and using the fillets measured by chest again, saying, “You’re going to be wearing a size B cup bra when you go to school, Shelby.”

Not that I disagreed, but we hadn’t decided anything that I remembered. “When did we decide that,” I asked?

“Being a more normal girl is going to be enough to handle, plus I already ordered the breast forms from the company you used. You selected the proper skin tone and all. I even asked them to expedite the order. They should be here tomorrow.”

I said, “Mom, I’m eighteen, I get to make my own decisions.”

Mom said, “But you already have limited funds, you’re living here, and if you don’t wear them, I’m the one out of the money.” She opens her arms for me to step to her and take a hug which I do.

It was 3:00 in the afternoon when Angie, Mom, and I went to a line of stores mostly for women. It was hard finding what was acceptable to my mother: Limited if any cleavage, above the knee, was okay but not more than two inches, and only one pair of designer jeans that wouldn’t ride down my rear. I too wasn’t wanting to be daring. Angie was the one who helped us to find the jeans, three skirts and one dress that we bought.

Andrea Dordt and Mrs. Hillier were the only two people who would have known about me if Ms. Hillier hadn’t already sent two photos of her discovering me. Mom’s friend Marie Arendt texts mom to say she’d stop over tonight. I was all but sure her daughters Kylene and Jaylene would be there as well.

Angie spoke up, “My friends Sara and Juli, text me. They’re wanting to come to see Shelby. They recognized that Russ isn’t the Shelby they were expecting. But they said that doesn’t matter, they’re coming to see her.”

Mom called home and had my father order some pizzas to be delivered around 7:30.

I didn’t want people to be commenting on my legs, so I wore a pair of silver opaque leggings with a blue knit dress that my sister coordinated with it. It was an interesting combination that others liked, thought was creative, came with many suggestions to accessorize with them.

While people were surprised, no one seemed overwhelmed by my coming out. Kylene even asked, “Was this why you had three new girlfriends this week?”

It was Kylene who reiterated something, that Tonya, had mentioned to my mom and me. “Will you want to go to the prom?”

I guess it was Kylene who text Tonya and Beth to come over to our house. They showed up a little before 8:00. Nine o’clock found me on my computer looking at prom dresses with seven others from my sister’s age to a year younger than me surrounding my computer screen.

Mom broke up the group and idea, “Let’s not get ahead of where she’s at. She would need to be at school at least two weeks before we’d even consider that.”

Angie spoke up, “The possibility of Shelby deciding is already late…”

Story to be continued…
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