Kerry A Transgender Tale Short Novelette By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 7,900 Image from Adobe Stock: FILE #: 323876419

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Yeah, my name is Kerry. A weird name for a boy, just ask the bullies. But, apparently I was named after my dad’s favorite pitcher on his favorite team. Kerry Wood, of the apparently loveable Chicago Cubs. Yep, Kerry Ryne Miller. My middle name came from dad’s other favorite player, Ryne Sandberg; another weird name - thanks dad. Apparently, they were big deals when my dad was a kid in the 80’s.

Anyways, my dad comes home from work and says, “guess what kiddo? I won a raffle and you get to be bat-boy for a day for the Cubs, isn’t that cool?” I just raised an eyebrow.

“What the heck is a bat boy?” I wondered out loud.

“Sorry, I misspoke, you’d actually be a ball-boy on the first base line. Well, I guess it would be termed ball-person these days. Doesn’t have the same ring to it though, does it?” He smiled.

“O-kaay. So what’s a ball-person, then?” I asked, while plopping down on the sofa in front of the TV. I guess the Cubs would be playing shortly and there were some before-the-game chatterboxes droning on in the background.

“You’ve seen them. They sit on a chair just the other side of the dugout and chase down foul balls down the line.” He mansplained. I just rolled my eyes. I don’t really pay attention when we go to those things.

“Why would I want to do that? Daddy, you know I only go to those games to do something with you.” My parents are divorced and I get visits with my dad every other weekend. “I don’t want to spend the day chasing a stupid ball and getting all sweaty. God, I don’t even like baseball.”

He looked hurt, like in severe pain even. “Still? Not even just a little bit?

“Honestly, the only part I like about it is being with you, eating nachos and hot dogs, and wearing those cute pin-striped pajama outfit thingies.” I explained, while he was wincing.

He got down on his knees and looked me in my eyes. Yeah, I’m 14 and barely five foot, and he’s like 6’4” or something. “Please? It’ll be fun, I promise, and I’ll take you to Geno’s pizza after.” Omigosh, he was really begging, bringing out the big guns. He knows I can’t resist Geno’s.

So I just rolled my eyes. “Fine!” I said and he smiled and I giggled. “I would only do this for you. I love you, Daddy!” I leaned in and gave him a hug.

“That’s so great, honey!” He enthused . He kissed the top of my head then stood back up. He then pointed toward the TV. “The game’s almost on.” My eye-rolling was getting a work-out today.

“Fine I’ll go put it on.” He insists I wear a real Cub’s home jersey when we watch a game together. I refused to wear a hat though. He always wears one, though, so we have that part covered and I didn’t have to look like a dork.

The jerseys always looked like jammies to me, but they’re kinda cute - white with blue pinstripes and a little bearcub inside a big red ‘C’ on the chest. I don’t know where he ever found a pair that fit me, but he did, probably in the kid’s section of some sports shop place. I’m only five-foot and 90 pounds, so that had to be tricky. Well, maybe not; they have jerseys for dogs for pete’s sake. Just ask Missy here. I gave our Yorkie a hug. My mom put her foot down and told him he couldn’t get a dumb pit bull or he’d never see me again. Well, she didn’t use the word ‘dumb,’ but that’s the gist.

He hated when I wore a matching ribbon in my ponytail, so I didn’t do that very often, even though I thought it looked really pretty. But I was feeling fairly girly tonight, so I put it in when I put the jammies on.

“God, Kerry, do you have to wear that tonight? I thought we could run and get Chinese takeout before the game starts.”

“You didn’t say. Anyway, what difference does it make? I’d be going out in pajamas anyway.” I whined (after I rolled my eyes of course).

“Everyone already thinks you’re a girl.” He tried some kind of weird logic on me.

“Well. then, it won’t matter, will it?” It was his turn to roll his eyes and huff.

“Fine!” He gave in with a bit of a role reversal going on. I giggled to myself. “Go get in the car.”

He immediately tuned the car radio to the baseball station. I turned to him and whined, “Can’t we listen to music? The game hasn’t even started yet.”

He seemed to growl a little. “Fine. Pick what you want.”

“Cool! Thanks Daddy!” I clicked on my favorite preset. “Oooh, Taylor Swift!” I think I now know who I inherited my penchant for eye rolling from. I giggled. I started singing. “You need to calm down!” You tell him Taylor!

On the way into the restaurant I asked, “So, this ball-person thingy. Is it at an afternoon show or evening show?”

“Kerry, they’re called games, for god’s sake, and yours is during a saturday afternoon GAME.” He emphasized. “Why?”

“Well. I need to know how to dress and whether I need sunscreen, and…”

“Okay, I get it. You’ll wear your uniform with the shorts and no undersleeves. They’ll give you a cap, I think.” He said. Oh god, a stupid cap.

“I don’t wanna wear a stupid cap!” I whined.

He stayed silent on the matter as we reached the restaurant. He opened the door for me, then made a bee-line for the bar. Stupid bars. That’s why my parents got divorced in the first place. “Daddy, you’re not supposed to take me to bars.”

“This is a restaurant. I can’t help it they have a bar. Besides, this is where the TV is and where I order our takeout. Just don’t tell your mother okay?” He glared at me.

I held my hands up, “Okay! Jeez! But you know she’ll ask and you know I don’t lie.”

“Oh, for pete’s sake!” He growled while slamming a five dollar bill on the bar. The bar guy was already bringing him a beer. I guess dad comes here a lot.

The bar guy looked down at me and addressed my father. “Your daughter is really cute!” Then he asked me, “What’s your name sweetie?” Gosh, he was so nice!

“Kerry,” I blushed.

“And what does a pretty girl like to drink?” He asked.

“Um, can I get a cherry coke, Daddy?” My dad’s head was on the bar, then he lifted it and looked off the other way.

“Yeah, get her a cherry coke,” he hoarsely whispered. Why was he so red?

#

He downed his beer all in one go then ordered our food. I looked up at him. “Daddy, can we just eat here, over in a booth? It’s so pretty in here. Isn’t it just so cool?” The restaurant was really pretty and exotic with all kinds of Chinese paintings and sculptures and stuff; pretty hanging lamps; and there was even Chinese music playing softly in the background. As I said, cool! I mean, the carpeting was even red, can you beat that?

“I don’t think so, hon. The game starts in a half hour.” He seemed stern on this one.

But I tried again. “You really can’t miss the first act? You can prolly sit so you can see the TV; would that be alright?” I begged. I really wanted to stay and take in the exotic atmosphere.

He sighed. “I suppose so. And they’re called innings. What I don’t do for you, eh kiddo?”

“Thanks Daddy.” I hugged him around his waist. He was still on his stupid barstool after all. So we found a booth where he could see the TV. He’d rather watch some stupid game than talk to me anyway, I guess. I should be used to it by now. One time he had three tickets to a Cub’s show and he sat with his friend next to him and me in the row behind. Can you believe the nerve? Men! But, I guess the guy he was with was pretty nice, and kinda cute, too! He had a silly voice, though, kinda like Kermit the Frog. Funny, right?

The meal was so great; I got some noodle thing with shrimp and a soup called egg drop. I had to try it just cos of the name. It had these stringy things in it that Daddy said were the egg part. Weird, but yummy! The egg roll was really good, too. When we were done, dad gave me both fortune cookies. I slid one back to him. “You can’t give me your fortune! The gods would get confused!” I giggled and he actually grinned at me.

“Okay tiger, let’s go.” It’s weird when he calls me tiger. They’re pretty cute, I guess, but they’re also pretty mean and ferocious. I’m more of a kitty cat.

“Okay, Daddy. But, you know, I’m really more of a kitty cat.” I told him.

He sighed, then whispered, “Okay, kitten, let’s hit the road.” Ooh, now Kitten I like. That is like really cute.

I grabbed his hand on the way out. He tried to shake me off, but I wouldn’t let go. He’s really not touchy feely, is he? But, at least he opens the heavy doors for me.

So we got home and I put our leftovers in the fridge. He grabbed a beer and plopped down in front of the TV. I grabbed a Snapple and snuggled in next to him with my phone and earbuds. I could play games or listen to music or text my friends. I have two whole friends, both girls. My most ever, by two. Boys don’t seem to like me (hate me, more like, always pulling on my ponytail or something mean). But these two girls were in my algebra class and were always gasping at my A+ papers, so they wanted to study with me. We actually became good friends and do stuff together. Their parents won’t let us do sleepovers for some reason, but I guess that’s not the end of the world.

Algebra is really hard, but I told my guidance counselor I wanted to be a weather person and they said I need a lot of math for that. So I’m trying really hard and I ask a lot of questions. Everybody probably thinks I’m a real dummy, well, except for my two girlfriends, that is.

So, I texted Jen real quick
Kerry - hi J, Im @ my dad’s, how r u?
Jennifer - Hi K. tht’s cool, but I bet hes watching Cubs?
Kerry - lol, how’d u know?
Jennifer - my dad’s watching rite now 2! Lol
Kerry - So, whatcha doin?
Jennifer - texting u, duh!
Kerry - omg, u r so bad!

So we went on like that for about ten minutes. Then she realized we couldn’t study this weekend for our final test in algebra. She was freaking out.

Kerry - let’s get together Mon nite, wanna grp text Debs?
Jennifer - jeez, u know, we shd just start on grp text, u know? duh!
Kerry - rofl, I know!

So we settled that. The test wasn’t till next Friday anyways. So, I got Daddy another beer and snuggled back down to play a game, Farmville if you must know! It’s so fun!

Turns out there’s a ball game like every flipping day! So Saturday and Sunday, I would lose Daddy for a couple-three hours again. Oh well, I can still snuggle! But, first thing in the morning on the weekends he likes to go to the bakery for hard rolls and coffee and pick up a newspaper. Did you know they still make those? I know! He’s so old school. I do like the comics and the style sections, though - ooh, and the ads. And it’s fun to sit and flip pages and sigh and mutter and nosh and sip caffeine drinks. Really fun!

#

So I got up early so I could take a quick shower and do my hair before he just falls out of bed and is ready to go. Brat! I know I’m a boy, but jeez, I saw this one boy with such pretty, long, black eyelashes, so I thought I could do that too, with a little help! So, vive mascara et voila! I touch up my eyebrows, too, cos everything is just so blonde otherwise! Then I use some cherry chapstick (yes, it’s tinted) and I’m good to go. I like a high ponytail, otherwise my neck gets so hot and sweaty! I don’t mind my neck getting a little warm when my hair is all down and pretty and down to the middle of my back - it’s worth it!

So, I’m usually at the kitchen counter eating Cap’n Crunch or something, with a glass of orange juice when he comes crawling and growling out of his bear lair. Giggle. Five minutes later and we’re off. I like going for rides in his big Cadillac SUV. He has to help me up into it, but, whatever. He’s pretty rich. He owns a big construction company, so, yeah, money’s cool! Anyway, sometimes we talk, sometimes music (the stereo system is killer!). Either way is cool. And we always seem to stop off for food, and being Chicago, that’s always a delicious proposition!

I was wearing just a teal t-shirt and white cuffed shorts with pleats today, oh, and teal sandals. So, pretty unisex, really. I just think most boys dress so boring, or totally weird. So, I had my feet up on the dashboard and Daddy looks over and asks, “so, hon, do you have any sneakers?” Well, duh, I have multi ones and black and gold ones, and white with a pink puma on them!

“No plain white, huh? Or blue?” He asks. Nope. How boring! So he asks me if I want to go to Walmart and I love shopping so that was a no brainer! I went with the blue ones, duh. And they had a white puma on, so that was totally cool.

He took me over to the sporty clothing area, you know with team names and stuff. They had all the different kinds in the same area, but I happened to gravitate to the girl ones. I don’t know if he knew they were girl ones, but they just fit better and aren't so ugly baggy and stuff. So I picked out a red Indiana Fever, Caitlin Clark top. It was so cute! I think he actually did recognize her name and I thought his red face was gonna explode! Well, he’s the one who took me shopping. Not my fault!

I asked if I could go to the jewelry section - I knew he would not, could not let me go to the girls’ clothing section (Isn’t that a Dr. Seuss one?). Been there, tried that, didn’t buy the t-shirt! He seemed okay with jewelry, though.

“When the hell did your mother let you get your ears pierced!” He yell-whispered. Yikes.

I looked at him still holding up a pair to my ear. I said matter-of-factly, “On my last birthday, silly. It’s been like four months. You don’t notice anything, Daddy.”

“Oh, believe me, I do, and I don’t like it. You look like a girl.”

“So?” I said simply.

“So you’re a boy!” He reminded me.

“Daddy, what’s your point?” I swear, I wasn’t just yanking his chain; I really didn’t get the point. My mom’s a girl; my best friends are girls. They seem pretty cool to me.

He just growled, “let’s go!” and he grabbed my hand, but I kept hold of the cute earrings I had in my other hand. “You’re mother’s gonna get an earful!” Like I have - tee hee!

Apparently the blue tennies are for when I do the ball-girl, er - person thingy. I gotta watch that around Daddy - yikes! I looked wistfully at all the cute clothes as we walked by on our way to check-out. But it was Walmart, so no biggie. Jen and Debs and I troll the mall and go to real stores, so I’m good. Anyways, dad and I went to the self-checkout. I bet I can guess why; he gets embarrassed over the dumbest things. Boys can be so silly. So can Daddys.

There was a McDonald’s in the parking lot, so, on our way to the car I asked dad if I could get a sausage McGriddle. “We’re going to the bakery for hard rolls.” He says.

“But McGriddles are sooo good! Have you ever had ‘em?” I implored.

I may make him crazy, but I still have him wrapped around my middle finger - oops, little finger - freudian slip. Giggle. We went through the drive-thru and I got my yummy breakfast. He didn’t get anything, not even a hash browns, and their McGriddles are to die for, too! Oh, dur, he did get a coffee, I forgot. Doesn’t really count, though, does it?

When we got home, I immediately put on my Caitlin Clark top and changed to jeans shorts. Put on my red sandals, too. I have to say, I was looking pretty girly, especially with my new earrings. But, we weren’t going anywhere else today, I don’t think, so he doesn’t need to freak out.

I went down to the condo swimming pool after lunch, which was an italian beef sandwich, yum! They wouldn’t let me swim unless I put on a swimsuit! I don’t have one! So, how dumb is their stupid rule? My parents won’t let me wear a girls’ one and I surely won’t wear an ugly boy’s one, so I was at an impasse. Oh, I just realized I could get one of those speedo things and wear my rash guard top. Wow, perfect solution. But, we’ll have to go shopping again. At least it’ll be in the boys section this time, so Daddy won’t have to have a conniption.

Turns out the store had full-body speedo suits, kinda like they have in the olympics. Daddy never thought of that - nor did I, for that matter. I couldn’t wait to hit the pool after dinner. On our way back from buying my Speedo, we went to Popeye’s chicken. I got a spicy breast and a red beans and rice. OMG, I love their stuff. Dad said, “whaddya wanna go to a chain for? This is Chicago!”

I told him, “I’m a kid, whaddya want from me?” Giggle.

After dinner I put my suit on and covered up with my white shorts. I grabbed a towel and skipped out to dad, who was playing a video game in the living room. “Okay, Daddy, I’m ready!” I didn’t need my rash guard this late in the day, but I did need my Daddy to escort me, so…

“Just a sec hon. Lemme get to the next level, then we can go.” He never lifted his eyes, while I rolled mine for the tenth time today.

So, I just sat on the edge of the couch and bided my time, glancing at the screen now and then, looking at my phone, while he was killing stuff. When he was done, he finally looked at me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you look like a girl! What the hell?”

“I can’t help it! Jeez, why do you hate me so bad?” I began crying.

He pulled me in for a hug. “Shhhh, I don’t hate you, kitten. It’s just…you really look like a girl; I mean, for real, it’s crazy like.”

I responded kinda meanly, “wait’ll you see when I take my shorts off.” I couldn’t help but giggle.

He just lifted both his hands and ran them through his hair. He practically choked. “Okay, you got your towel?”

“Right here. Aren’t you gonna swim?”

All he could say was, “Ummmm.”

“Do you know how to braid hair, Daddy?” Still not yanking his chain, I swear. “It keeps my hair nicer that way.” He just shook his head. “I’ll ask someone at the pool, I guess.”

He gently grabbed the back of my head and led me to the door. “C’mon, let’s get you to the pool.” He said, still shaking his head.

It was cool, cos there was another girl there (oops, I did it again, dad’s gonna kill me), her name is Mikhaela, so we could braid each other’s hair. She was pretty fun. We goofed around for an hour and Daddy chatted to a woman the whole time. What a bad boy! Sometimes they would both look over at us and dad would be blushing and nodding and stuff. What’s up with that?

#

Anyways, that was super fun and we went back up to our condo. It’s like on the tenth floor, so I have to get myself really dry before getting in the elevator. I hopped in the shower to get rid of the chlorine and pee (eeew!) and washed and conditioned my hair again. I thought I’d goof around so I curled my hair and put my little bit of makeup back on again. Daddy’s gonna flip, but, at the mall last week I got some super cute Hello Kitty jammies - pink top, teal bottoms - a girl’s gotta do…giggle. I had enough of cowboys, spacemen and sports goofs when I was little - god, I hated those pajamas!

So I come skipping out with those cute jammies on and sing-song, “Daddy, will you play Mario Kart with me? Or maybe even a board game (horrors! So, I like board games)?”
He’s back playing his shoot-em-up again and just glances up, pauses the game and drops the controller. Then he fell back onto the sofa. I think I may have actually killed him this time. So, I run up to him, screaming, “Daddy, are you okay? Daddy?” I jump on the sofa and grab onto him, crying. But his face was placid. Weird. He just leans over and starts tickling me until my tears stop and I’m giggling and out of breath.

“Yes, we can play Mario Kart, Kitten.”

“Yay!” I guess I was pretty happy with that outcome. But that was pretty mean of him to play dead.

We played four games and each won two. I like to stop when things are even, I don’t like anybody to be sad. Then I had to ask, “Daddy, I know it’s hot out, but can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have ice cream?” He retorts.

I had to think on that one. “Why can’t I have both?”

“Hmmm… Ok-aay, let’s both have both!” and I had to skip into the kitchen singing ‘both-a-both, both-a-both! Yes, I’m weird, and act like a five-year-old sometimes, but I’m also getting ice cream and hot chocolate, so there!

So, anyways, as fun as that was, I had to go back home to my mom and be bored out of my skull, until Jen and Debs came over with like ten magazines. They were all pretty girly. Did they think I was a girl? I thought they knew. Not that I’m complaining. It’s way better than dad’s sports and car magazines. I mean, waaay better! But they were talking about the cute boys and I don’t even know. I just know boys are gross and girls get to do all the cool stuff. So, I’m trying to adjust my mind to find the attraction, but that’s hard to do, when the feelings don’t just come. I can appreciate a pretty girl, mainly because I’m jealous I think. I’d like to be able to look that way without getting flak from dad all the time. Mom doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, as long as I get good grades and stay out of trouble, I’m golden.

Since I do like to dress girly and wear at least a little makeup, I really liked a lot about those magazines, well, pretty much everything except the parts about boys. I mean, I’m only fourteen, so why do I have to be thinking about that stuff already? I don’t want Jen and Debs to think I’m weird though, so I’m gonna try my best to see something good in those boys. I mean, like at school, a lot of boys are just gross, but there are some that are nice and dress nice and wear their hair cute - cute for a boy that is. so, maybe this won’t be too hard.

So, anyways, we all aced our algebra tests and got straight A’s, so that was cool, and now school is out for the summer. In the summer, I get to spend two whole weeks at my dad’s house and I think he’s got like a camping trip in mind, or some such nonsense. Gotta nix that one in a hurry. But first is a weekend with him where I have to be the ball-girl, er… person at that ball game thingy. When you’re fairly girly, that’s really not the kind of ball you want to be invited to.

So Daddy picked me up at mom’s house for the weekend and we went to a Mexican restaurant that had a bar, of course. He’ll never learn. “What are you wearing? You’re killing me here.”

“Daddy, it’s just shorts and a top, what’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“It’s the wrong colors, that’s what’s wrong with it.” He averred.

“How can colors be wrong? What the heck does that even mean?” I asked him. “Does this have to do with your baseball stuff?”

“Of course not, it’s just that… well, boys don’t wear, I don’t even know what that one color is.” He paused. I told him it’s teal and I’ve seen sports teams with that color. “Well, not with tiny sleeves that look so dainty, and teamed with pink! You look like a Barbie.” What’s wrong with Barbie - now he’s treading on thin ice! “And those sandals, for god’s sake.” Now what’s wrong with my sandals? They’re teal, too, with pretty gems on them. I think they’re cute.

“Okay, Daddy, Are you gonna be all over me about my clothes and my colors all summer? So I like different colors than you do, I really don’t know why you don’t just give it up, I’m not all of a sudden gonna go all black and gray and boring. I suppose you would like me to go all goth or something.” I temporized.

“Well, that would be an improvement, except for all the piercings and tattoos those whack jobs have.” He went on, being pretty jerky, truth be told.

“You’re being mean! I know a couple goths and they’re very nice. They even let me sit with them at lunch, before Debbie and Jennifer came into my life, that is. I kinda feel bad for abandoning them the first opportunity I got, but I’m not a goth, so… and they probably don’t even care. Anyway…” I lost my train of thought. “What were we talking about again? Just, could you give me a break? I’m gonna be chasing a ball around for you tomorrow, after all; you could be nice, just this once.”

Dad growled and ran his hands through his hair. He’s gonna go bald at this rate. Why can’t he just chill out? He said, “C’mon, let’s just go get a table.” Finally, I can get away from the stupid bar. If he has to drink, why can’t he just do it at home? Misery loves company, or something?

#

“Daddy, are you miserable?” I asked, really wanting an answer to that question.

“What? No. why would you ask that?” He asked with his eyes all squinchy.

“Because you’re always in a bar. Doesn’t seem like that’s where happy people would gather together.” I pointed out.

“Oh, um, no, I think it’s probably just the only way I know how to be sociable. Never really learned another way from my father.” He tried.

“I didn’t learn from you. I hate bars.”

“Well, you’re not exactly a normal son, are you?” He blurted. Ouch. Though it’s true enough, I suppose.

“Fair point,” I offered. I smiled at a cute boy as we got to our booth. Ooh, I guess my practice is paying off. We sat down. “Um, daddy, I know this is gonna sound weird, but why don’t you just pretend I’m you’re daughter and we’ll see how that goes? Maybe a change in perspective will help and you wouldn’t get so crazy mad all the time.”

He gave a grimace, then he said, “You really don’t want to do that ball… person thing, do you?”

I said, “Well, no, but I’ll totally do it for you. I mean, I couldn’t even catch a cold if I tried, but I’m willing to give it a go. It could be fun.” I grinned, smoothing a lock of hair behind my ear. He does a lot for me, it’s the least I could do. Plus, at least he pays me some attention; mom barely even notices I’m around.

I glanced over at that boy and he was totally looking at me; he turned away very quickly, though, and I thought I could see his face flush a little. How cute. Daddy then said, “Dammit, there’s no hot sauce on the table.”

Kerry to the rescue, I said, “don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll get you some.” I got up and made my way to the table with the cute boy. I looked him in the eye and asked, “are you using your hot sauce? My Daddy’s having a conniption.” I grinned at him and he smiled back. God, even his smile is cute. I’ve been hanging around with Jen and Debs too much! I tucked another plait of hair behind my ear - must be a nervous tick; what else could it be?

The boy’s eyes went wide and he said, “um, yeah, no, we’re not using it.” He looked at his parents and I followed his eyes and they nodded that it was okay. “Here, we have two different kinds even; you can have them both.” He reached them out to me and I grabbed them, brushing his hand. A jolt of electricity went through me and his eyes went even wider and his face even redder.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, um…” He paused.

“Kerry,” I offered in return.

“You’re welcome Kerri. I’m Steven, um, Steve.” He was looking a bit flustered and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, thanks again, Steven,” I smiled.

Back at the table, I crowed, “Here’s your hot sauce Daddy.”

“Since when do you flirt with boys?” Dad asked.

“Daddy, I’m fourteen. And I wasn’t flirting!” Was I?

“I saw you!” He whisper-growled.

“Oh my god, what’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m going to marry him. Yet!” I grinned.

“But, you’re a…” He choked. “You’re my…” He choked again and put his hand over his eyes.

“Daddy, we agreed!” I whined.

“Yes, yes, I know, just… give me a break, huh? It’s gonna take a minute to get used to this, alright?” He tried, and he really was trying. I could tell it was an effort with him, but he brought himself up short a couple times in the last thirty seconds. That was pretty cool.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I said. And dinner was so good. I got a chile relleno - a bit spicy, but totally yummy - and a taco. Didn’t need any of that hot sauce, that’s for sure. I glanced at the boy again and he quickly glanced away again. Is he into me, or what? What’s wrong with him?

Dad finished his beer and asked, “You ready to go Ker?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so.” I glanced at the boy again. “Yeah, let’s do it!” As we began to walk out I said to the boy, “Bye, Steven!” And gave him a little finger wave.

I thought he would swallow his tongue, but he managed to eke out, “Um, bye Kerri! See ya ‘round.” Then he coughed up his Coke. I couldn’t help but giggle again. He was so funny, and cute! I need to give Jen and Debs a piece of my mind. What have they done to me?

#

I thought I’d test dad when we got home. I had brought a nightie with, just in case I got the chance to wear it, and now I was taking that chance. It was in my favorite color - teal, and had pretty, large coral flowers all over it. No mistaking that for boys’ pajamas. I loved nighties. They’re so comfortable, and usually adorable. I entered the living room where dad was playing one of his games. “Hey Daddy, whatcha playin’?” I asked and plopped down next to him.

He startled, then paused his game, looking me over. “Um, Assassin’s Creed,” he offered. “Valhalla.” As if I know what that means.

“What’s ‘Valhalla?’” I asked.

“It’s like heaven, in Norse mythology.” He answered.

“Oh. Is it fun? Can I try?” It really looked pretty cool.

“Um, sure, here.” He handed me his controller. “It’s only for one player, but you can try it if you want.”

“Oh. No, that’s alright. I really wanted to play something with you, the both of us. Do you have anything other than MarioKart that’s for two players?” I asked.

He said, “Well, I do actually have Fortnite. You might like it. Just let me get past this level real quick. You wanna go make a snack while I finish up?”

He had cold cuts and cheese so I made us some finger sandwiches and chopped up some lettuce for on them - easier to eat that way. Plus, that’s the way Subway does it, and they’re really good, so… I placed the plate of sandwiches on the coffee table and leaned back, waiting for dad to finish his game. He paused it and looked at me.

“Wow, that’s a great looking plate! You’re going to make someone a great wife some day!” He enthused.

“Wife?” I spluttered.

“Well, yeah, you told me to treat you like a girl, so, that’s what I would say, yeah.” He tried.

I said, “Oh, no, you just scared me, like, I’m only fourteen - you freaked me out! That’s really cool of you to say that, though. Thanks. So, yeah, on the roast beef I used a little horseradish sauce and on the ham I used some Dijon mustard. Try one.” I smiled expectantly.

He bit into a roast beef and his eyes went wide. “Wow, that’s really delicious. I woulda just put meat and cheese on a slice of bread and called it good.”

“Yes, I know. You’re such a barbarian.” I teased. “By the way, we should get you some storage containers, cos your stuff is gonna go bad leaving it in the bags.” He just nodded and took another bite, letting his eyes flutter with the flavor of bliss.

So, we played Fortnite for a couple hours, and it was actually pretty fun. Then we hit the sack. The next day, I would have to chase a ball around Wrigley Field. So looking forward to that - not!

In the morning, I took a shower and washed and conditioned my hair. If I was going to be on display in front of 40,000 people, I wanted to look good. I blew my hair dry, nice and fluffy and pretty, even though I’d probably have to wear a dumb hat. I put it up in a high ponytail and tied it with a wide blue ribbon to match the baseball jammies I would have to wear. I put on the shorts version of the outfit and then my new blue shoes. A little mascara and some lip gloss and I was ready to go.

When I entered the kitchen, dad said, “Wow, you look really cute!”

“Thanks Daddy!” I smiled and reveled in his new attitude. He seemed a lot happier not harping on me all the time. I was super happy about that, too.

“Okay, kitten, let’s run and get the rolls and a paper. Do you need McDonald’s again?”

“No, Daddy, the rolls are fine, but maybe an apple fritter too?” I asked.

“Sure. Anything else, your highness?” He teased. At least, I hoped he was teasing.

I put on my best British accent, “Perhaps some lox and bagels as well, my dear father.”

He squinched his face. “Do you even like lox?” He asked.

“Of course not, I was just being silly. Cream cheese will be fine.” I giggled. “What are lox anyway?” He told me they were salmon and I about gagged. Why would anybody do that to a perfectly good bagel? Eeew!

So we did our weekend morning ritual and I really did get a bagel. Thank goodness his toaster has a bagel setting or I would have been really messed up. I did the crossword puzzle and the jumble while Daddy read his beloved sports pages. They were pretty hard, being a Saturday, so I then read the comics to untwist my brain. ‘The Far Side’ was pretty funny today.

Dad put down his paper and took one last swig of his coffee before looking over at me and asking, “You wanna play a game before we go? Or, is there something else you had in mind?” Gah, the ball-girl thingy!

“I’d like to play a game, I think, but maybe you can roll me some balls so I can practice before I make a fool out of myself in front of a million people?” I asked with a little trepidation.

“Sure, I’ve got your glove in the closet here.” He said with a grin.

“I have a glove? A baseball glove?” I’m not a total baseball idiot. I know they use gloves. That ball would really hurt, otherwise.

“Yeah, I got it several years ago when hope was springing that you’d get into sports, but that obviously didn’t happen.” He lamented

“I’m sorry Daddy.” I sighed and hugged his belly.

“Oh, don’t be sorry, kitten, you’re your own person and you like different things, and that’s okay.” It is? “Of course it is. It took some adjusting, but I’m finally starting to get the hang of it.” He grinned and I squeezed him some more.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I whispered.

He said, “Hey, let’s go toss that ball and we’ll take off early. They have great restaurants near the ball park.”

The glove still was a little big on me, I don’t know how a younger me could ever have managed it - I still can’t squeeze it shut. But, first thing dad does is toss me a ball underhanded. I thought we were gonna roll it! As it got close, I cringed and shied away and it went bouncing on by. “Why’d you throw it at me?” I whined.

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t think.” He admitted. Then he started rolling them faster and faster until I got semi-okay at stopping them. One rolled up my arm and almost hit me in the face and I was not well pleased.

“Daddy, maybe this is a bad idea. Do you think I can really do this?” I whined some more.

So he said, “You’ll be fine. If a ball is in the air, just stay away from it, and if it’s rolling super fast, just let it go on by - the right-fielder will get it, okay?”

“If you say so.” I conceded and ‘threw’ the ball back to him - bounced it, more like. “Maybe we should just go and get this over with.”

#

So we went. There was a Mexican restaurant catty-corner from the ballpark and that’s where we went. Omigod, they used strips of steak and they just heated up tortillas on this giant griddle thingy. Also, instead of regular taco sauce, they used pico de gallo. Oh my frickin’ dear lord, those tacos were the best things ever! No more Taco Bell for me! Okay, I still love Taco Bell, they’re just different, so that’s cool.

As we made our way back across the street, I began to shake. I really didn’t want to do this, but I did look really cute in my Cubs pajamas and blue shoes. I used a little Cubs string bag for a pseudo-purse and made my way to the restroom to check myself in the mirror and have a pee. Guys kept looking at me funny and one said, “You’ve got the wrong toilets, sweetie.” I just said ‘oh,’ turned red, and scurried out.

I went and whined to my dad. “That guy said I was in the wrong bathroom, Daddy. What should I do?”

He looked around and furrowed his brow in thought. “I guess you just use the ladies. I mean, you look like a girl anyway, you should be completely fine there. Just don’t dawdle, okay? I’ll wait for you right here.”

I did my business and checked my face and outfit in the mirror. Then I finally made my way back out to the concourse. There was Daddy, watching the door for me. I had to whine again. “Oh my god, that line was so long, I thought I was gonna pee my pants. Why are lines to the ladies’ room always longer?”

“Did you have any trouble in there?” He asked.

“No, they were really nice and told me how cute I look.” I said.

“Well, that’s true enough. You do look adorable. So, let’s find somebody in charge so we can get you down on the field. I have a box seat right behind where you’ll be, in case you have any questions or you need anything, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks Daddy.”

So, dad found this woman that led us to a man that got me all set up at the end of the Cubs dugout. There’s a screen/fence thingy at the end, so I don’t have to worry about a ‘screaming liner,’ as the guy said. That still made me nervous cos that really sounded scary. He said that when I get a ball, I just roll it toward the dugout steps, so that didn’t sound too hard. Oh! And I don’t have to wear a stupid hat! They had a cute visor. Yay me!

So I got my sunscreen out of my string bag and applied it, cos it was really sunny, then grabbed my sunglasses. I touched up my lip gloss and I was ready to go. Daddy came to the wall and chatted with me for a few minutes. He said, “The wind’s blowing out, so this should be a hell of a game.”

“Mmkay.” Whatever.

Just before the game started, the loud speaker guy says, “...and let’s hear it for our ball-girl today, Miss Kerry Miller!” I blushed as the crowd gave a smattering of cheers. I looked into the stands and I think Daddy was blushing, too. But, then I heard him say, “That’s my girl!” With a big smile. That made me all warm and fuzzy.

I got my first chance in the first inning. A ball was tapped in my direction, not too hard, and I kinda knocked it down. I then tried to get it to the front of the dugout by throwing it overhand for some reason. The ball flipped out of my hand right into the dugout! A really cute Cubs guy caught the ball and said to me, “You may want to roll them underhand, sweetie.”

I blushed and said, “Yes sir, sorry!” So I was really careful after that and then it became kinda fun. The players would talk to me and they were so nice! In the seventh inning, one of those ‘screaming liners’ came my direction and I screamed. Now I know why they call them that. You wouldn’t believe, though. Daddy caught that ball! I know! He came to the wall and told me to have the players sign it. So I asked the one guy who talked to me the most, and he passed it around. It came back to me in the eighth inning with writing all over it. So that was cool. I handed it to Daddy for safe-keeping - he said he was going to put it on the mantel. Whatever a mantel is, sounds good to me. In memory of a scream! And of my day on the field at Wrigley. I guess that’s kinda cool.

When the game was over, a security guy lifted me over the wall so I could leave with my dad. On our way out, dad told me how proud he was of me. That’s the first time he’s ever said that! It felt really good, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to do anything like that again, even if it did make him proud. Maybe there’s something else I could do to make him proud of me? I’ll have to think on that.

#

So, he took me to Geno’s as promised and we got a deep dish pizza that was sooo amazing! Daddy only got one beer, so I guess he was okay to drive. He makes me nervous sometimes. I got to thinking about having to go to the ladies’ room and then the announcer telling the crowd I was a girl. All the players and other people being so nice to me and Daddy being proud and saying I was cute and all that stuff. So, I asked him, “Daddy? Do you think I’m a girl?”

“Yes.” He said immediately with a mouth full of yummy pizza. I couldn’t help but giggle.

I said, “But what about those boy bits down below, you know what I mean?”

He swallowed, then answered me, “Yes, I know what you mean. But, apparently, that’s not what decides what you are. Who you are. You’ve taught me that over the years and I’ve finally come to terms with it. You know, I’ve talked to your mother?” I shook my head and he went on. “Yeah, and she says you’ve been seeing a psychologist? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I was embarrassed, I guess. I started going because of the divorce. You know, I was really sad about it. I get it now, but something came up in the sessions that I wasn’t expecting. She thinks I’m a girl, too.” He nodded.

“Yes, and there’s things we’re suppose to do to support you and if you want to transition, you know what that means?” I nodded with a mouthful of pizza. “Do you want to transition?”

“Yes, Daddy. I mean, it’s like I’m already a girl, but I don’t want to get all big and hairy with a deep voice, you know, like you? I really don’t want that, so…” I tried to explain.

“Yeah, I get it, I think, your mother explained it to me. And apparently my insurance will cover all that stuff, all the transition medications and therapy and all that. So, you’re good to get going on that?” He asked, looking only slightly uncomfortable.

“Yes please, Daddy.”

He said, “I think it’s great, that you can so unapologetically just be who you are and reach for the brass ring.” Whatever that means, it’s probably a good thing, because he looks happy. “Just keep on being you and I’ll be behind you 100%.”

“Thanks Daddy.”

“I’m proud of you,” He said, and I couldn’t stop the tears.

The End