This is a continued story of Lucas' life and his experiences as Laura. They are from different times in his life.
I did have another time as a flower girl after the one I wrote about. It confirmed my enjoyment in being with older girls, young women, and adults who gave me attention.

I have also enjoyed several Halloweens Trick or Treat nights as Laura. Usually, it is only once or twice times a year that I am used by my mother to wear a dress or outfit that she is making or in some cases alterations. I was thirteen and in the second half of seventh grade, when she was doing alterations so my classmate Tiffany Newcomb could have a nice dress.

I didn’t know Tiffany well, but I knew earlier in this year she was showing a remarkable change where her life was getting better. That was despite experiencing tough times in the life of her family. The previous two years, she had been having a hard time in school and showing signs of stress in her life. I hadn’t known about it as she and I were not close or in much together.

I heard she had become a loner, and that her grades had dropped though she was still passing her subjects. My mom now tells me her mother is battling cancer, and while her mother is getting better it has left her weak and unable to do all the things she’d like to do, especially with her daughters.

Mom said, Tiffany now had the help of a group in a program called G-Power. When I said that I never heard of it my mom giggled. “It is not likely you would have; it’s supported by a non-profit group of professional women for empowering girls. It often works behind the scenes to help potentially troubled girls.”

“She was to be going to a special girls’ weekend during spring break, but she might not be able to go because her mother could not fully participate without endangering her health, nor afford a nice dress.” Mom paused and was now staring at me, wondering if she should tell me more.

I spoke up, “You have an idea that might help her and her mom and it would involve me, haven’t you?” Mom had recently been doing alterations on a pretty dress that I had modeled as she made the changes. “It involves that special dress you’ve been working on, doesn't it? And last night you said it might have been for naught.” I paused, “Does your plan involve me wearing that dress?”

My mother smiled, “No, but you’re close. The dress would be for Tiffany. Your help would be as a friend on the weekend; so that her mother Barb Newcomb could take part in the special mother-daughter times.”

“But you said it’s for girls,” I said.

Mother said, “One of her close and trusted girlfriends could go and participate in some of the times while her mother rested to participate during other times. But her mother just called and told me none of her trusted girlfriends could do it.”

She said to me, “I didn’t want to ask you and I haven’t told the Newcomb’s about you, so you’re not under pressure where you can’t say ‘no’.”

“I’d have to pretend to be a girl from Friday evening to Sunday at noon,” I asked?

Mother said, “Something like that but you’d need to do it from Thursday evening through Sunday at 2:30 p.m. And you’d need to be Laura this weekend at their house so they were confident that it could work.”

I smiled, “You knew since I first tried on the dress that I wanted to do something as Laura, but that was on a smaller scale and more fun for me.” I asked, “What am I to do when Tiffany gets to dress up and does the fun things with her mother?”

Mother said, “You can read, play e-games, and rest from your other activities. They will have a suite with a pull-out bed for your privacy.”

I asked, “Can I go over to the Newcomb’s and talk to Tiffany? We are not exactly close friends and I’d need to be comfortable about it as well as she would?”

The next day at school, we were in our second-period class when I felt Tiffany staring at me. When it came time to move to the next class; Tiffany approached me, “Can we eat alone at lunch; I hear there is a way you could help me, but I can’t believe it?”

I had done something this morning that might help her to believe that I could pull it off.

We met as we went to get our food and sat at a table away from others. I said, “This isn’t something every seventh-grade boy is proud of, but helping my mom I’ve learned to enjoy it and pull it off well.”

Tiff said, “I don’t mean to offend you but talk is cheap.”

I asked, “Did you notice the difference between my left hand and right hand or my shoes?” I had manicured my left hand and use a clear pink polish on it. And I had worn a pair of girl hiking shoes.

She looked, noticed the differences, and smiled. I said, “I’m not bragging, but my mother is taking an outfit that I can change into over to your house after school.”

Tiff said, “I don’t mean to be ungrateful or hard to convince, but I’ll need that demonstration maybe more.”

She and I talked, and I was more and more certain that we could spend a weekend together as friends.

I was walking to my next class when Melanie another classmate came over to me. She said, “I didn’t know you and Tiffany were such good friends.”

I was going to say, ‘we weren’t’ then I caught myself. “I’m not as close as some, but we enjoy getting together now and then.”

Melanie said, “I’m glad she is handling things better again. She’s had so many challenges with her mom’s illness and her dad being such a louse. Can you confirm for me if she did suffer from depression?”

I said, “Even if it were true, I wouldn’t confirm something like that. I do agree with you she is handling things probably better than I could.” I asked Melanie, “How well do you know her?”

She said, “Tiffany and I were good friends last year, but I backed away after her father got angry and focused his anger on me. If she's making new friends, maybe I should get back as a friend.”

My friend Jeff comes along and jokes, “Lucas what’s up you ate lunch with Tiffany and are now talking to Melanie. I didn’t know the girls liked you this much.”

That was a joke in itself; Jeff was a basketball player and a better student than me. I replied, “I’m getting a little taste of being popular like you.” Jeff and I were friends, but I couldn’t say we were that close. Melanie and Jeff walked to one class as I went to a different class.

I was in social studies for my last class, when I realized for the first time Tiffany was in the same class. History and geography are two things I’m good at. Upon leaving the class, Tiffany walked up to me and said, “Maybe I can say you’re my tutor in social studies. The teacher knows I could use it.”

She asked, “Would you mind if my Aunt Jeanne gives us a ride to my house?”

I knew in my head, I might go to her house and transform to be Laura once again, but doing it was another thing. I was four and then six when I acted as a flower girl. This would be the first time I did it with a friend knowing who I was. I was excited to do it again, but I was even more nervous.

I met her at the south side of the school, where she was usually given a ride by someone. Her home was about a mile away in another direction from mine. Jeanne must be her mother’s sister as I could see the resemblance right off.

Aunt Jeanne was upfront, “It is nice to meet you Lucas, and I can see you have your mother’s fine features. I was even at one of the weddings where you were said to be the Flowergirl. But I will have to be made a believer that you could pass as a girl nowadays.”

I responded, “No one needs to believe me; you can take me to my home and no proof is needed.”

She lightly laughed, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor, and I confess my gratitude for you and your mother trying to help us. The Lord knows Tiffany could use a break going her way for a change.”

We’re soon to Tiffany’s home and her sister Michele was home from high school before us. She had already changed and excused herself abruptly as she walked out the door. I joked, “I guess she doesn’t believe I can do this either.”

Aunt Jeanne spoke up as Tiffany went up to her bedroom to change. “Michele doesn’t know yet what is happening. She’s just bent out of shape because she thinks her mom and Tiffany get all of the attention.”

It is after 3:30 when the doorbell rings and Jeanne answers the door. She and Tiffany were both walking to get to the door. The door opens and I first hear my mother’s voice. Then Tiffany responds to the dress mom has altered for her. That Tiffany is pleased, is an understatement.

The other clothes she brought with her were shrouded by plastic coverings. Tiffany asks, “Did you bring all the clothes and things that Lucas is going to need for his transformation?”

Mom answered Tiff’s question with a question, “How did you like him as Taylor Swift at last year’s Halloween Dance?”

Tiff asks, “You’re telling me that was Lucas?” Tiffany takes a double look at me and I know she’s trying to remember both Taylor Swift and last year’s Halloween dance. “That was a girl, I heard her and it was a girl.”

Aunt Jeanne asked Tiffany, “Do you want him to use your room or your mother’s room to change?”

Tiff replied, “Mom said, he’s to use my room because she will be home soon.” Tiff looked to my mother and said, “He won’t be using any of my underthings will he?”

My mother lifted what she had and assured Tiffany that she had everything, including a camisole for under the blouse.

I had been out of the conversation a little and walked quietly to Tiffany’s room. I said, “The fragrance of being around girls/women are coming back to me.”

Mother said to me, “Change clothes and I’ll do your makeup.” Regularly I would shower before changing, but not here at someone else’s house. I had showered at home when I got up and my mother agreed that I had no hair to shave from my legs or face. I enjoy the idea of dressing up as a girl, but I don’t yet know how to do makeup or more importantly a more feminine ponytail.

Mother joked, “You will probably learn more things about being a girl this weekend. But you and I will need to practice a lot more beforehand if Tiff agrees to you going with them.”

Mom said, “This isn’t like being a little Flowergirl with someone watching out for you.”

I shook my head wondering about what I was doing. My mother nudged me to focus on what I was doing. My privates were hidden away, and I could use the toilet like a girl if needed. My Mom had brought the shorter of two skirts, this one was a glistening blue skirt. Mom insisted I wear a white camisole under my multi-colored print blouse. A hint of the lace camisole showed at the top of the blouse. I tried to hide it, but I was stopped by my mother. “That little lace is an affirmation of you being a maturing girl.”

Mother had changed the style of my hair and was now finishing my makeup. My Mom said, “We’ve done enough it is now for you to show yourself to truly be Laura. If Tiff would want more she can do your nails, glitter you with jewelry, or add a fragrance of her choice.” Mom called downstairs, announcing we were coming down.

Jeanne called up, “There are Tiff’s shoes and two pairs of Michele’s shoes in her room.” Mom had brought a pair of shoes with her that I wore at Halloween. She and I both spotted two pairs of shoes with two or two-and-a-half-inch heels. The cute pair of heels that caught my eyes were pink with light blue detailing. I tried them on and they fit perfectly.

We heard another person enter the house as we made our way to the top of the stairs. Mrs. Newcomb stood there looking up and smiling that she made it in time to see me as Laura. Between a short skirt and heels, I was nervous as I gingerly stepped down the stairs while lightly touching the railing.

Tiffany’s expression was priceless, “O my he’s, he’ makes an attractive girl.” She turned to my mother, “O my, you swear that is your son?”

She turned to her mother, “If we’re going out to eat as you said, this outfit would be darling.”

I echoed her, but in a different tone, I was surprised and scared, “Go out to eat like this? No, no! I’m not ready for that.”

Tiffany turned to me, “But I agree with my mom that would help us to know if it could work or not.”

My mom said, “'In for a penny, in for a pound.' You might as well; you’ve practiced with your voice?”

Tiffany urged me to say what I said, with a girl’s voice. I relaxed as Laura, composed myself, and said, “No, no! I can’t do that I’m not ready.”

Tiff came over to me and spread out her arms to hug me. “I can’t believe this, but I’m tickled to death. I couldn’t find anybody to go, I was going to miss out on the special weekend and my mother/daughter time.”

We agreed to go to a familiar restaurant that was out of town but not too far away.

Mrs. Newcomb called her daughter Michele to come home and they quickly patched things with Michele. Michele returned home and was delighted to see me dressed as Laura.

My father was called to come with us, but my father declined.

Michele had asked if my sister Rachel had done some things like me helping my mom. Rachel is eight years older than me and is away at college. She’s three years older than Michele. Michele said, “You know if Lucas looked more like his father; he probably wouldn’t be in this predicament?”

Mom acknowledged, “That’s probably true, but then again he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t willing to help.” It was awkward to admit it, but it was something my mother and I agreed to, “I’d never be forced into this position.”

I said, “It is like playing an anime character to me, but this is pretending to be a girl for real. I’ve been to Anime events but this being three days and 24/7 will be different.

It was true that I wasn’t expecting to go out as Laura tonight, but as long as I was willing it was probably better this way.

We were at the restaurant and gave our orders to the waitress when I saw Michele give a wink to Tiffany. I knew they were planning something to test me. Tiffany got up and announced, “Michele and I are going to the women’s room and Laura should come with us.”

I looked around the table and asked, “Is this being suggested by everyone?” When my mother and Mrs. Newcomb indicated ‘no’. I said, “For Tiffany and Michele, I will do it.”

It was kind of cute as the three of us sort of giggle as a woman was coming out as we were ready to walk into the restroom…

The Seamstress’ Model to be continued…