This is an expanded version of a story I posted some weeks ago and I am lucky to have had comments and suggestions from two of the best authors on this site, Angela Rasch (Jill MI) and Emma Anne Tate.

Ali was curious about places on the Gold Coast so we stopped at Burleigh Heads on our way back to Brisbane.

Two reasons. One, we were hungry and it was lunchtime, and, two, I found out in conversation with my girl that her education in seafood was woeful.

I asked her if she liked seafood and she answered that she liked fish’n’chips. Well, so do I. Duh!

“I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

So we ended up at the best restaurant in Burleigh Heads overlooking the surf and the pines. Just the view makes it worthwhile and the food’s pretty good.

I

I ordered a plate of oysters natural and some prawns to start with and got her a smoked salmon starter which I thought would be pretty harmless for somebody who didn’t know anything about fish which wasn’t deep-fried.

She eyed off my oysters and prawns in fear. “You don’t want me to eat those, do you?”

I squeezed some lemon juice on an oyster and popped it in my mouth…. delicious. “Just try one. I’ll eat the others .”

Ins

She closed her eyes and grimaced as I delivered one to her open mouth.

“Let it rest on your tongue, don’t bite too hard, then swallow,” I instructed her.

She did as I told her. “Hey, that wasn’t too bad,” She smiled as it went down.

“I told you I wouldn’t poison you. They taste a lot better than they look.”

“Can I try another one?”

“Nope! They’re mine, all mine, mwahahahah.” I cackled. “Next time.”

She pouted, a pretty pout.

Next came the prawns. She didn’t have as much of a problem with those. They look less fearsome and a touch of lemon and pepper really gives them flavour.

Actually I don’t like them that much because I reckon Aussies overcook them. I like steamed prawns the way the Cantonese do them, but you can’t get those here and any prawn tastes OK.

She liked them and I wasn’t about to argue.

I had to show her how to eat the smoked salmon too, with lemon squeezed over it and some capers and onion pieces for garnish.

She really got into that. “That’s scrumptious, Gucci. Why didn’t my parents ever give me some of that?”

A question I couldn’t answer.

For our main course I ordered grilled Moreton Bay bugs. They look like giant cockroaches on the outside, but the meat is pure white, similar to lobster. Personally I like them better.

She watched me avidly while I took my first bite. Once satisfied when I didn’t fall over and die, she took a tentative bite of her own. “Mmmmm! Delish!” Her plate was clean before mine. “Is there more like this?”

“Ali, we haven’t even scratched the surface. I won’t rush you into it but we’ll teach you how good our seafood is. There are plenty of great restaurants in Brisbane and I’ll take you to some of my favourites. It’ll probably have to wait until after Christmas, but just be patient.”

Ali prattled on about these new tastes.

I shook my head as I wondered how her parents could have been so negligent. At least in my case we had been too poor to sample a lot of these delights when I was a kid and in those long-gone days ordinary folk didn’t eat a lot of this stuff. I still remember my mother-in-law sneering about Moreton Bay bugs as being unfit for human consumption. I had just purchased ten for a dollar, from a roadside pop-up stall in Tweed Heads, the first time I ever saw a bug. She told me I had wasted my money!

When we finished we continued our homeward journey, which took a little more than an hour, going back through Broadbeach and Surfers as we had a few days ago.

Ali asked me if we were going to do anything special over the next couple of days.

“I’ve not got anything planned,” I said. “Why?”

“OK. Can you be Joanne tomorrow?”

“Don’t you like me like this?” I teased her.

“Aargh! You know I do but I like Joanne better….and so do you, too! I’ll help you with your make-up again and maybe help you to do it yourself. If we’re going to stay together I want more Joanne. You know you like it.”

Of course we’re going to stay together. She was right and I didn’t need much urging. I’d have to deal with any fallout from my neighbours but that couldn’t be helped. I owned my apartment so there wasn’t much they could do to me other than disapprove as long as I paid my rates and the Body Corporate charges.

“OK. If the weather’s good maybe we can go for a walk-through along Southbank again. I admit I love to dress properly and it’s so nice having you with me. The only thing is that this close to Christmas I’ll have to be careful. It’s that time of the year when people drop in unexpectedly. Tomorrow and Thursday are probably all right, but I think I’ll have to be Mac after that. I’m thinking I should take our prezzies over to the kids’ place on Friday to avoid the rush over the weekend.”

There was silence from the passenger seat and then the sound of sobbing.

“What’s wrong, Ali?”

“I haven’t got you anything!” she wailed. “I’m such a dipstick. You’ve done so much for me and I haven’t got you anything for Christmas.”

We were nearly home so I let her cry for a couple of minutes while we parked the car. I had to manhandle her into the lift and when we got upstairs she fled into her bedroom, still sobbing.

I followed her in and sat with her on the bed, an arm around her while she cried into my shirt.

“I’m so stupid. After all you’ve done for me I’ve got you nothing. I feel so selfish. No wonder my parents hate me.”

She had no idea how much she had given me from the moment I found a weeping bedraggled girl in that mall only a week or so ago. I had been sleepwalking through my life…. existing, not living. She had woken me from a melancholy dream. What she had given me was something no amount of money could buy, much rarer than gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I had come to life again and I had someone to love, whose happiness made me happy. Who could ask for more?

“Don’t be silly, Ali,” I consoled her. “First, your parents are confused, but I’m sure they don’t hate you. Less important, when I found you, you didn’t have any money, so you couldn’t buy me anything. I didn’t care.”

“But then you gave me all that money and I didn’t even think of getting you anything.” Her grimace spoke of the intense pain she felt.

“Well, we have been a little bit busy and tied up, to say the least. Don’t worry about it.”

I could have told her how I felt but that Aussie…. or was it a remnant of maleness?. reticence silenced me. All I could do was hug her. I promised myself I would tell her later. Not too much later.

Then I had a bright idea. “Listen, if you really want to get me something, have you seen the movie ‘Dune’? I’ve been promising myself I’ll go and see it but I haven’t got around to it yet. You can get me the DVD and we’ll watch it together, OK? We’ll go to Indooroopilly and you can buy it for me.”

Her tears dried to a snivel. “Will that be enough? It doesn’t seem like much.”

“Hey, it’s the thought that counts, innit?” I knew she didn’t have that much money and as it was a new release it would probably cost fifty bucks or so. We’d be able to get it at JB-HiFi in Indooroopilly. I would take her tomorrow. That would satisfy her anguish at not buying me anything, even though I knew it wasn’t necessary.

While I was on a roll I asked if she was a fantasy fan.

“It depends, I guess.”

“Have you seen ‘Game Of Thrones’? I’ve got the whole series.”

“No, my parents wouldn’t let me watch it. They reckoned it was too dirty.” She shook her head at such nonsense.

“Well, we can watch it together, starting tonight. It’s the best TV series ever. I know you’ll love it. My favourite character is Tyrion Lannister.”

“Who’s he?”

“You’ll find out, although I suspect you’ll be a Daenerys Targaryen fan. She’s a young girl who’s ‘The Mother Of Dragons.’

“Sounds awesome.”

“It is.”

I had another brainwave. I had bought her a computer and a phone, but somehow they didn’t seem very intimate, more utilitarian. All kids needed those these days. I would get her that teddy bear when we went back to the mall. There was a great toyshop next door to JBs.

I had talked her out of her earlier funk and she was back to being my darling girl.

“Don’t forget to moisturize tonight,” she cautioned me, “And shave really close in the morning. I’ll work on you just like Arpi would. With a few more practises you’ll be able to do your own make-up. Do you know what you want to wear?”

“I thought the black-and-white jersey dress. I don’t think it’s too dressy for a walk through the Parklands, as long as it’s not too hot.”

“Yes, should be all right, but just in case, that white silk blouse with the floaty navy-blue skirt with the red lilies would be OK too.”

We just had sandwiches for tea since we’d had the seafood lunch and she had a cup of tea while I had my chardonnay.

We watched the first couple of episodes of “Game Of Thrones”. I could watch it over and over. The casting for the series was superb. Arya is another of my favourite characters and poor Sean Bean (Ned Stark) was slated for another early demise. He can’t catch a break!

My girl loved it. The first couple of episodes in Series One are just warming up to the real action but they set the scene so well. Arya has already shown her mettle, Daenerys is about to be sold off to the barbarians and Tyrion has shown his strength of character. Peter Dinklage was made for that part and I don’t mean just because he’s a dwarf.

I did as she told me before going to bed, and perhaps because of the teary interlude in the afternoon our good-night embrace seemed more intimate than usual.

One effect she has on me is that I sleep better since she has been with me, and I didn’t let her into my bed tonight. She pouted a little but accepted my edict that she couldn’t make a habit of sleeping with me and kind of slunk off to her own bed with only a little bad grace.

Next morning was another fine day in the paradise of Queensland, maximum expected temperature 29C with a low humidity and not a cloud to be seen.

Breakfast this morning was poached eggs on toast together with the usual orange juice, coffee, and pills for me. We sat out on the balcony again and enjoyed the view while we ate and drank.

Then it was prep time for me. First the shave. How I hate shaving. If only I’d been born a woman I wouldn’t have to do it, at least to my face. I did try to get my beard lasered off, but it evidently doesn’t work on grey hair so that was an epic fail. The alternative of electrolysis was too time-consuming for the limited opportunities I could enjoy en femme. So I grimaced and bore it.

I put on fresh undies, bra and forms, donned a dressing-gown and went out onto the balcony, where she was waiting for me with our magic cosmetics. She went to work on my face and it seemed to me that she was more confident this time and didn’t take so long.

When she had finished she said, “OK, Joanne, go and check my work and see if you’re happy with it.”

Off I trotted to my bathroom, and I swear she had done as good a job on me as Arpi would have done. I decided to go with the skirt and blouse as less formal and attention-getting than the dress. On with a pair of dark thigh-highs to disguise my varicose veins and some near-flat sandals before fitting and fixing my wig. I was ready to go pending approval from Ali.

I twirled into the lounge. “How do I look?”

She smiled. “You scrub up quite well for an old lady.”

“A bit of respect, please, or you’ll earn a spanking. You’re not too big to put across my knee.”

She stuck out her tongue.

“Let’s do the mall first and have our walk later, OK.” I wanted to get her angst over a present for me out of the way and I wanted to have teddy ready for her tonight.

We drove to the mall, still missing the neighbours. It was quite early so if there was the start of a Christmas rush we missed it. I sent her into JB-HiFi to get the video and I went into the toyshop and soon selected a teddy bear about the size of a large puppy who I thought would make a suitable sleeping partner for her. I got the staff to wrap it as anonymously as possible and put it in a bag .

I finished before her and waited outside.

She came out with a few DVDs and CDs. “I hope you don’t mind. I bought some music too.”

It’s such a good store, with a vast selection of everything from computer geekery to giant TVs. No, I didn’t mind.

“What have you got?” She was eyeing my goodie bag.

“None of your business.”

“Come on, let me see.”

“Nope!”

“Aww, spoilsport.”

“Maybe later,” I said, relenting slightly. “Just wait.”

Back to the car and back home. Parked and up to our home. She really wanted to know what I had bought, with that relentless curiosity of the young.

“Don’t you dare peek. It’s not for you,” I lied.

I love it when she pouts.

“Are we going for that walk or what?” I distracted her.

“Oh, all right then, be like that!”

She does an enchanting flounce too.

We exited to the lift and my other neighbour, Kiki, came out from her apartment at the same time. She smiled at Ali and gave me a really quizzical stare. She is a widow whose husband passed away a year ago or so, so I suppose we have a certain empathy.

“Mac? Is that you?”

No point in pretending. “Yes, Kiki, it’s me.”

“You look really nice. Are we going to see more of you like this?”

“I think it’s quite likely, more than likely, probably.”

“Is this young lady responsible?”

“Only indirectly.” I sighed. “I’ve always been this way but I’ve hidden it. This is Ali, by the way, Ali, Kiki.”

“Kiki, you’ll have to call me “Joanne” when I’m dressed like this.”

“Hallo, Joanne. Just so you know, ’Joanne,’ I don’t have a problem with it. If you need to talk some time you know where I live. You never know, I may come and see you!” She smiled as she left the lift at the third floor, where her carpark was.

First hurdle done, only a dozen more to go. Drip, drip, drip.

“She seems nice,” Ali said.

“She is nice. I hope all the others are too.”

We went on our walk without any further incident. It was a lovely day and we lunched at an Italian restaurant in Little Stanley Street. Spaghetti Bolognese didn’t give Ali any conniptions. I’d forgotten how I was dressed. It just felt so normal, my skirt flapping around my knees in a fairly gentle breeze. All those lost years.

That evening I couldn’t keep her curiosity in check and I eventually had to produce her teddy bear.

“This is your sleeping partner from now on, not me.”

She squealed with delight and hugged the bear half to death. “Thank you, but nobody, woman or bear, can replace you. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know if he’s a boy bear or a girl bear. That’s up to you.”

“He’s a boy bear and his name is Mac, MacBear. When he’s naughty I’ll punish him and when he’s good I’ll give him lots of kisses.”

A kid can reduce you to tears sometimes, even if they’re tears of joy.

That night she went off to her own bed without a qualm and when I looked in on her half an hour later she was fast asleep cuddling MacBear. How can a child look so angelic? I was jealous of the bear, but it was necessary to prevent the world from perceiving an unsavoury bond being formed between us.

Next day was rinse and repeat except that we didn’t go to the mall. Joanne was front and centre and we had a relaxing day strolling up to The Ship Inn and then sitting at the pool. Well, I sat and she changed into her cozzie and was in and out of the water. I forbade her from splashing me and she mostly obeyed, with just the occasional drip.

Our Building Managers inquired as to who was the elderly lady sitting by the pool and I confessed to my identity. After the initial shock wore off both Michael and Maree sat and chatted with me for a while.

I answered the inevitable questions and told them I had always been this way but circumstances had prevented me from expressing the real me. They didn’t have a problem with Joanne per se. Their only concern was that I wouldn’t stir up any trouble with the other residents.

I assured them that I had no intention of stirring up trouble and, as long as the others accepted me everything would be fine. I didn’t need any problems.

They asked about Ali and I confirmed that she would reside with me for the foreseeable future. It was none of their business in a way. It was my flat and who resided in it was my business. I saw no reason to share Ali’s transgender status with them.

The next day I went back to being Mac. Word had spread that I had been seen as a woman, or a transvestite or a whatever. You can’t keep a secret in a block of units. I had decided that I didn’t give a shit, as long as nothing spilled over onto Ali.

I only got one hostile reaction, from a guy who I had been reasonably friendly with. I was by the pool and he accused me of being a pedophile.

In a way, I wasn’t surprised. He had always been a bit aggressive.

“Why would you say that, Dave? I’ve never made a move on your family.”

“Don’t you go anywhere near my daughter, OK, or I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.”

Honestly, I wouldn’t know his daughter if I fell over her.

“Fucking tranny cunt!”

That was his parting shot. He’d evidently decided he didn’t like me. Oh well, there’s always one.

“Why do they hate us?” asked Ali.

“Most don’t. You’ve seen some of the good, like the cops, our lawyer and Dr. Gower. Most don’t care; they’re not interested and just see who they want to see. Kiki doesn’t mind and Craig is oblivious. You just get the odd one like Dave who somehow feel threatened and fear us. All you can do is tread carefully around them.”

“What about YOUR family?”

“That’s MY fear getting in the way. I guess I can be as irrational as anyone else. One of these days I’ll pluck up the courage to tell them.”

Friday I packed my car with all the Yuletide gifts, champagne and wine and ferried them over to Paddington where my kids lived and delivered them so that we wouldn’t have to struggle with them later in the holiday.

That meant that Ali and I could travel in comfort in an Uber and I wouldn’t have to worry about drinking on the way home.

I had deliberately left Christmas Eve free. It’s usually a zoo with everybody doing that last-minute dash for the things they’ve forgotten.
Traffic is a nightmare.

So Ali and I did bugger-all that day. We watched a few more episodes of “Game of Thrones” which she was starting to love, and she cooked a nice simple lunch of sauteed sausages with tomatoes and onions.

We spent a bit of time down at the pool in the afternoon. She told me what a good boy her teddy MacBear had been last night! I was happy for them.

The big day came and we ordered an Uber at about 11.30 to take us over. It’s only a ten minute ride and traffic on Christmas Day is always light so we were ensconced at their place in plenty of time for the festivities, such as they were. Joy had stayed overnight and the rest of them lived there anyway.

Drinks were in order and were duly shared around. They had oysters and Ali eagerly consumed a few. My granddaughter Dixie was as suspicious of them as Ali had been the other day. All the more for me!

Presents were distributed and opened with the usual oohs and aahs and then we got down to the meal. It was traditional turkey, ham and roast vegetables. My son did the carving and we all had more than enough to fill our plates and our stomachs. On to the Christmas pudding and custard. Kylie is a good cook and Joy is as well, so we were all kind of mellow and replete by the time we finished eating.

Nobody had really quizzed Ali during the meal because everybody was busy eating but now that we had finished the interrogation started. I should have been paying more attention. It was all fairly innocent at first and I saw no problem in her telling them that her parents had thrown her out, but then it got on to the fact that she was trans and I should have seen red flags waving.

What I didn’t take into account was that she had consumed a couple or maybe more glasses of the champagne that I had brought over. Someone had been filling her glass. When you’re a seasoned drinker like me it is very easy to forget the effect that alcohol can have on someone who is teetotal.

There was no condemnation of her transgenderism, basically only sympathy, although my grandkids were rapt in her story.

I should have seen it coming but I didn’t. The story got to where I had rescued her in the shopping mall and she said how ‘Joanne’ had saved her.

“Who’s Joanne?” Kylie asked.

Ali pointed at me, then realised what she had done and face-palmed.