A Boy Called Brook: Summer 5 by Clara Copyright© 2022, 2024 Clara Schuman   Brook moves forward to heal his family and establish his new life.

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Author's Note: This is the last installment of THIS PART of Brook's story, but as soon as he tells me more of his tale, I will share it with you. It won't be too long.

Thank you to everyone who has commented so far! Thank you so much Sephrena for your assistance with the html and to all of my reviewers for their kind reviews and support of my work.
I would love for you to let me know what you think about my story.
Please! Leave a review, it can be good or bad (not too harsh please!)
I am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
 
Summer 5
 

They wouldn't let me cook them dinner that night. In fact, Brooke insisted on taking me out to dinner - just the two of us. She and Elena picked out a nice dress for me to wear. It was a soft yellow cotton, but kind of looked like it was crocheted, if you know what I mean. Like, there were a lot of lacy patterns that let skin show through. It had flesh colored material strategically placed beneath the outer material to hide my bra and panties, though. It was a really pretty dress and I felt really pretty wearing it. Brooke did my makeup a little more nicely than usual and I really felt special. She also bought me a pretty pair of three inched heeled, white, strappy shoes that made me feel even more pretty - and taller, which I liked a lot, too.

She took me to a place a few towns away that had a pretty good reputation. It wasn't a crazy-expensive place, but I'd heard that their food was excellent, and they didn't disappoint. I had the braised short ribs served over gnocchis tossed in walnuts, shiitake mushrooms and arugula with a Gorgonzola cream sauce that was breath taking.

Brooke had a bacon cheese burger with fries that she loved.

To each their own.

I liked the fact that the waiter kept referring to us as 'ladies' and that one person at a nearby table who came over to talk to me about my meal even referred to me as Brooke's little sister. Honest to God, I'd never once in my life ever gone out into a public situation and felt attractive before, let alone 'pretty.' It was a whole new experience for me and I really, really enjoyed it.

When we left the restaurant, the maitre'd was very kind to us and went to great lengths to invite us back again. Both of us giggled as we got outside because everyone had treated us like princesses the whole time we were in there. I was wonderful!

Instead of going straight home, Brooke took 'the scenic' route home which invoked a road that ran around a big, man made reservoir where a town center had once stood, but now only an old, beautiful stone church remained. There was still plenty of daylight, so we took off our heels and walked around the area near The Old Stone Church enjoying the cooler evening air, the smells of the pine trees, the feel of the grass on our bare feet and the intimacy of just holding each other's hands and being young and in love. It was a wonderful, beautiful evening.

We got back into Brooke's Jeep and she drove up a side road that ran along a river that fed into the reservoir and she pulled off into a side area that was well worn down by many tire tracks and was obviously a place where people pulled in for some 'alone time' with some frequency.

"Let's get in the backseat," Brooke said when the car was stopped. We both climbed out and climbed back into the vehicle in the seats behind where we'd been seated, then we sat close together with me in Brooke's arms.

"You've had a hard day, huh?" she whispered.

"I've had better," I shrugged, "but my dad said some nice things and I had a delicious meal with the most beautiful woman I've ever known, so it got better."

That made Brooke smile. She ran a finger along my bare arm and kissed my neck incredibly softly. Soon, her finger was traveling along the skirt of my dress, and then down my bare leg - and then back up my bare leg again and under my dress. Then, she was toying with the soft elastic leg openings of my panties.

"Do you like wearing dresses?" she asked playfully.

"I do," I smiled at her as she got playful under my skirt. "Do you like me in dresses?"

"I do," she smiled. "I like your hair done nicely. I like you with makeup done nicely. I like you smelling all flowery and and nice, too." She kissed me. "I love the taste of your lipstick when I kiss you. But more than anything... I love you in pretty dresses."

Her hand moved to the area between my legs where my penis was tucked.

"I bet more boys would wear dresses if they considered how nice it feels when girls reach under their skirts and do this," Brooke smiled and teased.

I shivered and grinned, enjoying each sensation. "Maybe we should just keep that to ourselves. Most boys wouldn't consider wearing a dress."

"Really? What if they knew how nice they feel," she smiled that Cheshire Cat grin of hers. "And how nice these soft panties feel when someone touches their wee wee like this."

I laughed. "Their wee wee?"

She touched my shaft more sensuously. "That's right. But you know what? If girls thought about it and they realized that they had such easy access to boys' wee-wee's, I bet they'd be buying their boyfriends cute little frocks all the time."

I sighed and tried not to spoil the mood. "Brooke... there's probably aren't any other girls who'd be interested in a boy like me. They want men who have hard muscles and hairy bodies. Not little wimps like me."

"Oh, don't say that," she cooed, licking my ear. "You're not a wimp. You're my beautiful little boyfriend and that's what I want you to be."

"Good," I smiled, "because that's what I want to be and that's all I'll ever be."

Brooke took me fully in her hand, caressing my entire organ through the soft material of my panties and I cuddled closer, enjoying the intimacy of her breasts next to my face.

Brooke being Brooke, she took the time to stop, raised the skirt of my dress and lowered my panties, exposing my tool. Then she took some tissues from a box between the front seats and put them on my belly before returning her attention to my pleasure zone.

She began stroking again and smiling down at me. "Does that feel nice?"

I just smiled up at her. Of course it felt nice. She knew that.

"So, you're always going to be a girl now?" She giggled.

"No. I'm always going to be a pretty boy in a dress. I want to be pretty and feminine, but I always want to be a boy."

She kissed my cheek. "I'm so glad. So soft and pretty." She increased her speed. "But maybe getting a little harder down here," she teased as she stroked me. "Uh oh... uh oh... uh oh... here it comes," she said, as if I was a child with a toy, but it was an exciting tease under the circumstances and it was enough to bring me to the edge.

"I'm going to come," I gasped.

"That's ok, baby. You go right ahead," she giggled.

So I did. I gushed out onto her hand and onto the tissues she'd prepared to catch my mess. It was so powerful that I could barely breath.

"Wow," she laughed. "You had some pent up energy there, didn't you?"

I got control of my breathing. "More like pent up frustration," I laughed.

Brooke cleaned me up using the tissues, then grabbed a pack of hand wipes and wiped me down with those as well. "There." She said as she pulled my panties back into place. "All cleaned up." She gave me a soft, loving kiss. "Feel better?"

"I do," I smiled back up at her.

"That's good," she kissed me. "Come on. We should get going." She kissed me again. "Mom will get mad if we're out too late."

We climbed out of the back seats and back into the front, then headed back to the Kerr's house.

"Tomorrow," Brooke said, "I think we should go get our nails done."

I looked at my short, unpolished nails. "That might be fun, but I can't get long nails. They would interfere with my cooking."

"Ok. Maybe you can just have them shaped and colored. And maybe have your toes done. How does that sound?"

I smiled at the idea of trying something new. "That sounds fun."

When we got back to Brooke's house, Mrs Kerr was watching TV in the living room. "Did you two have a nice time?" she asked.

"We did," Brooke answered. "I had a great burger and Brook ate something complicated that looked disgusting, but I admit, tasted pretty amazing."

She smiled and shook her head. "You went to a world class restaurant and had a hamburger? How classy." She looked at me. "Honestly, she gets that from her father, I swear."

I just smiled.

"Listen," she went on, "the girls and I went out and did a little shopping this evening and I got you a few things of your own. Nothing fancy, mind you, but there are some things you needed to have." She reached down and picked up a bag from Target. "Here. There are a couple of packages of panties in there, three padded bras and two nighties. Like I said, nothing fancy, but they'll get through the next week or so. Then, if we have to, we'll figure out what happens from there."

"Ok," I said, as I took the bag. "Thank you, Mrs Kerr. This is... very generous of you."

"Don't be silly," she said, as she patted my hair. "I'm happy to help... any way that I can."

She seemed to almost muse over me for a good long moment before she forced a smile and said, "Well... you two should get ready for bed. I'll see you in the morning." She surprised me by giving me a kiss on the cheek, then she did the same to Brooke. "Love you both," she said, but I think she said it out of maternal habit.

"Love you, too, mom," Brooke said, but I just mumbled something unintelligible, a bit surprised by the situation.

Brooke looked at me and said, "Why don't you get changed down here? I'll get changed upstairs, then meet you there and I'll help you take off your makeup and tie up your hair for bed." Then she went upstairs and I picked up the bag and headed into the downstairs half-bath to change.

I took off the heels and sighed at the feeling of relief in my arches and calves. They hadn't actually bothered me while I was wearing them, but they sure felt good to take off. Then I took off the dress and the bra before I opened the bag and pulled out the new nightie that Mrs Kerr had bought me.

I had to blink a few times when I looked at it, but I pulled it on, anyway. It was an oddly childish garment. Pure white except for a tiny pink bow just below where my bust would be, if I had one. A scoop neck, a little elastic high-waist-line on the same line as the bow and an A line skirt falling from there to just above my knees. Very thin and very light - but the most infantile attribute on the nightie was the rather oversized, puffy balls that formed the sleeves at the tops of my arms. I looked like an illustration of a child from a Victorian children's book.

I took my shoes and my dress and headed up to Brooke's room. Just before I made it to her door, though, Melissa stepped out of her own bedroom, into the hallway, where she stopped and stared at me. Eventually, she shook her head and smirked a bit. "I told my mom that that thing looked like a little girl's nightgown when it was on the hanger, but... wow... now that I see you wearing it..." she broke out into giggles... "wow..."

I nodded. "I know, but I'm sure she meant well, and beggars can't be choosers, right?"

She shook her head a little more. "Wow." She repeated several more times. "Has Brooke seen you in that?"

I shook my head.

Melissa took my hand. "I have to see her face!"

She pulled me the last ten steps or so and knocked on Brooke's door. "Come on in," Brooke called from inside.

"Hey, Brooke," Melissa said, dragging me in behind her, "I found this child wandering around looking for her babysitter. Can you help?"

Brooke looked up from a bureau drawer and saw me and a huge smile broke out on her face, which she tried to hide with a hand. "Oh, my goodness," she laughed. "I'm so sorry, Brook. Mom does this to Elena all the time, too."

"Does what?" Elena asked, entering the room, too, but then she saw me and her question was answered. She didn't laugh, though. "Oh, for crying out loud," she said, shaking her head. "Come on. I'll give you something else to wear."

"No, that's ok," I said, a bit surprised to hear Brooke also telling Elena not to get anything else. "Your mom was nice enough to get this for me. I'll wear this. It's fine."

"Fine?" Brooke giggled. "It's adorable."

I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Sorry," she giggled, "but it is... and you are. Come on... let me take off your makeup and get you ready for bed."

I sat at Brooke's vanity and she went about her business of getting me ready for bed, while her two younger sisters sat on the bed and asked some questions about our evening out. I was a little surprised by how much Brooke shared with them. She certainly didn't share the fact that she had given me a hand-job in the back of her Jeep, but she did tell them that we took a long walk around the reservoir and sat by the river and looked at the water in the twilight.

When she got to putting my hair up, she began brushing and arranging my hair in such a way that I realized that she was going to braid my hair, which was fine, if a bit odd, since lately I'd worn a bun to bed every night. I didn't mind, though. I enjoyed the way the it felt being braided and I enjoyed the attention.

She took longer than usual, though, which was fine with me, but as she finished up, I could tell by the looks on the faces of her sisters that something was up. I glanced behind me and I saw that Brooke was holding up a large hand mirror so that the girls could see the back of my head.

"What did you do?" I asked.

Brooke smiled and had me look into her vanity mirror, then held up the mirror behind my head to show me the large, pink bow she'd tied into the crown of my head, then lowered the mirror along my braid to reveal the pink ribbons she'd intertwined into my braid, and then the smaller bow she'd tied at the base of my braid.

"What's all that?" I asked, a bit amused, but a bit surprised, too.

"It goes with your nightie," Brooke smiled.

"It really does," Melissa agreed.

Even Elena shrugged a bit. "It's cute, but if you don't like it, Brooke will take it out."

"It's adorable," Brooke said. "Why would I take it out?"

"Because it might make Brook uncomfortable," Elena said with a bit of authority.

I tried to keep the mood light, though, and laughed. "Well, it's nice to know that you all see me as a nine year old girl."

"Oh, stop it," Brooke said with a laugh. "I was just having some fun. Do you want me to take it out?"

"No," I sighed, very dramatically, "it's fine."

"Good," Brooke smiled, "cause I think it's sexy."

"Then you're sick," Elena said.

We hung out in Brooke's room longer than I would have expected, since it was already past ten when we got home, and it was well past midnight before I went downstairs and went to sleep on the coach.

Now, as I've told you, I always woke up early to make my dad breakfast and even pack his lunch when I lived at home. That didn't happen at the Kerr's house. Mrs Kerr only worked two or three days a week and she didn't eat breakfast before she left. She just put her travel mug into the Keurig coffee maker, pressed the 'brew' button and grabbed it on the way out the door.

So, sleeping-in was the norm at the Kerr's.

On that particular morning, Mrs Kerr had left for whatever kind of job she did at around eight thirty. I heard her come down the stairs and she whispered an apology for waking me. When she'd left, I went back to sleep.

Just before ten, someone knocked on the front door and woke me up from a deep sleep. By the impatient sound of the knocking, I guessed that the person had probably been knocking for quite sometime, because the knock was rather forceful and loud.

"Coming," I shouted, as I threw back the light blanket I'd slept under and hurried to the door. I pulled it open to find a man in a suit and a uniformed police officer standing on the Kerr's front stoop. "Yes?" I asked, sleep still in my eyes. "Can I help you?"

The man in the suit looked at the officer, then cleared his throat. "Oh, umm... I'm sorry if I woke you, honey... umm... is your mommy here?"

I rubbed my eyes and tried to see better and asked, "My mommy?"

"Yes, honey. I need to speak with your mommy."

It was at that point that I realized how I was dressed. Now, I'm a little guy, but I was only kidding when I said I looked like a nine year old. I had to look at least as old as Elena. Well... maybe the combination of the overly feminine nightie and the ribbons in my hair made me a look a bit younger, but... this guy was talking to me like I was in elementary school.

"You're looking for Mrs Kerr? She's not here. She's at work," I said, deciding that challenging his perception of me would not help the situation.

"Oh, I see," he nodded. He looked at some paperwork in his hand. "Well... is there a Mr Brook Chapin here?"

Now, I ask you - How would you have answered that question under those circumstances? You're standing there in a childish nightie with your hair in braids and ribbons and this guy thinks you're a young girl. Would you just say, 'Oh, I'm Brook Chapin?' No, of course you wouldn't. And neither did I.

"Umm... he's not here, either. I think he went with Mrs Kerr."

"I see. I see," the man nodded and looked at the officer.

The officer was growing impatient and asked, "Are there any adults in this house, honey? Anyone eighteen or over?"

"Well, yes, there's Brooke..." I said, half to myself.

"I thought you said that Brook wasn't here," the man in the suit said.

"Not Brook Chapin - Brooke Kerr," I said. "She lives here. I'll go get her."

"Thank you," the man in the suit said.

I left the door ajar and ran, barefoot, up the stairs to Brooke's room, shaking her. "Brooke, wake up. There's a policeman and a man in a suit at the front door and they're looking for me."

"What?" she asked, becoming conscious. "Why are they looking for you?"

'I don't know, but I answered the door dressed like this and they think I'm a kid, so they want to talk to an adult. That's you."

"Oh... ok," she muttered as she pulled back the covers and sat up. She was wearing really short sleep shorts and a lacy, spaghetti strap top that offered only a little modesty. She stood and took my hand, leading me back down the hallway. I'm not really sure how awake she was, but she was moving.

"What's going on?" both Melissa and Elena asked as they exited their rooms, apparently awakened by my sprint up the stairs.

"I don't know," Brooke, said. "Don't come downstairs, though."

"What?" Melissa asked.

"Why?" Elena asked.

"Just stay up here," Brooke commanded as she and I headed down the stairs. Elena and Melissa obeyed, but they did run to the railing that overlooked the front door foyer to watch.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the two men had taken advantage of me leaving the door open to step into the foyer and wait inside.

"May I help you?" Brooke asked, rather tersely.

"And you are?" the man in the suit asked.

Brooke shocked me by being completely unintimidated by either the suit or the uniform. "Who am I!? I beg your pardon? Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house? Did you invite them in?" The last question was leveled at me. I just shook my head.

"Well, if no one invited you into my house, then why are you standing INSIDE my foyer asking me who I am!? Let me see some identification right now, or I'm calling the police."

The uniformed officer stepped forward. "Ok, now, calm down, miss. Obviously, I am a police officer..."

"Do you have an ID that proves that?" Brooke cut him off.

The officer pulled out a laminated ID card and showed it to Brooke. "Yes, I do. See? Now, please. Calm down."

"How about you?" Brooke snapped at the man in the suit.

He seemed very flummoxed by Brooke's aggressiveness, but he reached into his jacket's breast pocket and pulled out an ID card with a lanyard hanging from it which indicated that he was from the District Attorney's office.

"Alright," Brooke nodded, then, finally, released my hand and folded her arms across her belly, "now that I know who you are, can you explain why you are INSIDE my house?"

The police officer spoke calmly. "Well, Miss...?"

"Kerr," Brooke said, irritated.

"Well, Miss Kerr, usually people would rather not have a police officer loitering on their front stoop. Since your little friend here left the door open, we stepped in just to keep the neighborhood rumor mill from kicking into high gear."

"I see," Brooke spat, "so you invaded my home as if we were criminals in order to save us the embarrassment of looking like criminals?"

"Look, Ms Kerr," the man in the suit said, "if we offended you, we apologize, but I need to speak to an adult about a legal matter and then we will get put of your hair. Are you eighteen or older, Ms Kerr?"

"Yes, I am," Brooke said with authority.

"I don't want to upset you, but is it possible for me to see some official identification to confirm that?" he asked.

Brooke huffed and grunted and turned to look up the stairs. "Will one of you grab my pocketbook?" she called up to her sisters. Seconds later, Elena was running down the stairs with Brooke's purse in her hand. "Thank you," Brooke whispered. "Back upstairs, please." Elena glanced at me, then ran back up to join Melissa.

Brooke opened her wallet and showed her license to the two men.

"Thank you," the man in the suit said. Then, he held out a Manila envelope. "Ms Kerr, I need you to give this packet to Mr Brook Chapin. He is staying with you, isn't he?"

"He is," Brooke said, taking the envelope. "What is this about. Brook hasn't done anything wrong."

"Yes, we know," the man in the suit said. "Apparently there was a meeting here yesterday between Mr Chapin and his father."

I felt a flush of concern wash over me.

"Yes," Brooke said, "but I wasn't there."

"Nor was I," he said, "but I understand that things went well."

Brooke nodded.

"Well, the judge is recommending that the case be moved from criminal court to family court in order to expedite a resolution. I just spoke to Mr Victor Chapin, the defendant, and he is eager to proceed in this manner."

Brooke scoffed. "I should think he would be. Anything to get it out of criminal court, I would imagine."

The man in the suit corrected her. "Well, yes, but he could still face criminal charges, even in family court. What family court may be able to offer, though is some benefits to the younger Mr Chapin. It is unusual for a case such as this, with an adult victim, to be moved to family court, but His Honor feels that this would be a way for Mr Brook Chapin to find some support as he deals with his sexual issues."

I almost passed out. My 'sexual issues?' What the heck did that mean and were these 'issues' going to be discussed in a courtroom in front of other people!?

"Brook has no 'sexual issues,'" Brooke said with a defensive tone. "He is perfectly comfortable with who he is."

Well, that was true much of the time, but at the moment... it certainly was not. Standing there looking like a tween girl of some kind, I would be the first to admit that I was more than a little uncomfortable with who I was at that particular moment.

"Well, be that as it may," the man in the suit nodded, "please have Mr Chapin review this packet with his attorney and contact my office as quickly as possible. I think this may be a beneficial option for him."

Brooke nodded. "Alright. I'll give it to him. How can he reach you?"

"My card is in the envelope," he said. "Thank you for your time, Ms Kerr, and I do apologize for waking you." He looked up at Elena and Melissa and waved. "I apologize for waking you young ladies as well."

Then he looked right at me. "And thank you for your help, young lady. By the way, I like the bow in your hair."

I just stared for a moment.

"The man paid you a compliment, dear," Brooke said to me. "What do you say."

"Umm... thank you," I said.

The man smiled at me. It was probably a kind, paternal smile, but it felt kind of creepy under the circumstances. "You're welcome, sweetheart," he said, with a pat on my shoulder. Then he looked at Brooke. "I have one about the same age at home. I haven't seen her in ribbons and bows in years, though. Enjoy it while you can." He winked at me and then he and the police officer left the house.

The second the door closed, both sisters bounded down the stairs and wanted to know what everything they'd overheard meant.

"How would I know," Brooke shrugged, handing me the envelope. "Let's have some breakfast and you can look all of this paperwork over."

Now, 'Let's have some breakfast,' means something very different to me than it does to most people. I wanted to start up the stove and make something filling and comforting, but Brooke sat me at the kitchen island with her sisters and put a bowl in front of each of us, then poured in some rainbow colored cereal rings of some sort into the bowls and poured milk on them, pronouncing that 'breakfast.'

About fifteen minutes later, my rainbow colored cereal rings untouched and soggy, I pronounced the paperwork I'd been given indecipherable.

"Maybe you should call your lawyer," Melissa suggested.

"I don't have a lawyer," I shrugged. "My dad is the defendant, so the court appointed him an attorney. I'm the victim. The state represents me. I don't know what any of this means."

Without a word, Brooke picked up her phone, searched for a name, then put the phone to her ear. After a moment she said, "Mark Kerr, please. This is his niece, Brooke Kerr."

"Who is she calling?" I asked.

"Uncle Mark," Elena said, matter of factly. "He's our dad's brother. He's a lawyer."

"Brooke," I waved at her. "I can't afford a lawyer."

She scowled at me and shook her head. "Uncle Mark, hi! I'm good. You? Yep, we're all good. Hey, I have a friend with a problem. He has some paperwork from the court that he can't figure out. Do you think you might be able to take a look at it for him. No, Uncle Mark, he was actually the victim of a crime and he just needs you to tell you what it means. Yes. Perfect. We'll see you then. Love you, too. Bye."

She ended the call and smiled. "We're having lunch with my Uncle Mark at 'Guido's' at one forty five. Go shower so I can make you pretty."

"Are we all going?" Melissa asked before I could argue about involving her uncle.

Brooke thought and then sighed. "I suppose you guys will have to come. Mom would kill me if I left you home alone. I'll send Uncle Mark a text so he's not surprised when we all show up. But remember - this is about Brook's court papers. Don't interrupt Uncle Mark during lunch."

"Cool!" Melissa and Elena both said, jumping up from their stools to go get ready.

"Brooke," I said, "I really can't keep imposing on your family..."

"Blah, blah, blah..." Brooke said, very loudly. Then, when I'd stopped talking, she said in a normal voice, "Listen to me, Brook. I love you, so you are part of my family. Uncle Mark loves me, so he won't mind helping out someone that I love. Besides, I'm not asking him to become your lawyer. I'm just asking him to read those papers and tell you what they mean. That's not a lot to ask of a family member, now is it?"

I shrugged. "I guess not."

"That's right," she smiled. "So go shower and let me make you look like a big girl so we can go figure all of this out."

And so we met Uncle Mark at Guido's Restaurant for lunch. Uncle Mark looked a lot like Brooke's dad, but he had this added kind of movie star good looks to him. He dressed really, really well and he had a dazzling smile, and his hair was perfect. In short, he was as handsome as Brooke was beautiful. I guess that's where she got her good looks.

We were all dressed well, Uncle Mark in a suit that he told Brooke came from 'his tailor in London,' and the rest of us in nice summer dresses. Mine was a pale blue, cold shoulder dress with little flowers all over it that was rather blousy and kind of made me look like I had more bust than I really had, even with my padded bra. I was also wearing my new strappy heels that I'd worn the previous night.

"To tell you the truth," Uncle Mark said, as he looked over the paperwork and sipped on his clam chowder, "I don't much care for this arrangement at all."

He looked at me and spoke in a very sincere voice when he asked, "As I understand things, Brook, the resolution you are looking for is that your father agrees to continue to seek help with his anger management and sobriety, and that you can return to your home, correct?"

I nodded.

"Well," he explained, "I think we can do that more easily without the interference of family court. In essence, what they are proposing is that your father does those things while remaining on probation, which may make it difficult for him to remain employed, which leads to a whole other kettle of fish. It also would require family therapy for the two of you, which I'm not necessarily opposed to, but forcing it on you seems harsh. The thing that bothers me the most though is that it seems to want to impose therapy on you to 'assist with your transition,' but in our brief discussion today, you have indicated that you are not transitioning. Is that correct?"

"That is correct. I am not transitioning," I said, emphatically.

"Brooke has discovered that he is gender fluid," Brooke offered. "He wants to remain male, but express himself as a female."

"I understand," Uncle Mark said with a nod and an understanding smile, "but it seems that the courts do not." He took a sip of water. "My suggestion is mediation. We get together with your father and his attorney and see if we can come to an agreement that the courts will agree to and, if necessary, oversee, but not interfere in quite such a draconian manner. We may be able to work things out so that your father isn't on probation per se, but that his case is reviewed in ninety days, six months or a year, or something along those lines. We could remove the stipulation of transition therapy for you, etc. How does all of that sound?"

"Great, I guess," I said, with a big sigh. "I honestly don't know."

He nodded and smiled again. "I understand. You enjoy your lunch now and leave this to me. I'll make some calls this afternoon and call Brooke to let you know how things work out. Usually the judge in charge just wants a happy resolution for everyone involved, so my guess is that he'll be open to my solution."

I nodded and cleared my throat. "There is something I need to talk to you about, though, sir. See... I don't have any money to pay for all of this..."

He put his hand on mine and shook his head. "I'm doing this as a favor for Brooke's boyfriend. Understood? No payment is going to be requested and you will owe me nothing when this is all over. Ok?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded and smiled, relieved. "Thank you, sir."

"And that 'sir' stuff can stop right now, too. Uncle Mark is fine."

"Ok... Uncle Mark... Thank you."

True to his word, within a few hours of the end of our meal, Uncle Mark had worked out a mediation plan with the judge and my dad's attorney. We were going to meet in a few days - my dad, his attorney, a Clerk of the Court who would act a mediator, Uncle Mark and me - to see if we could work all of this out.

That meant my time at the Kerr house might be coming to an end soon.

Brooke and the girls and I did visit a nail salon a few days after our visit with Uncle Mark. I got very short extensions added to my fingers and had my toes and fingers painted a bright, bubblegum pink. I really liked the way that everything looked.

We made the most of what might be our last few days all together in the same house, though. I taught Elena how to cook a few things - I tried to teach all of the sisters, but only Elena was paying much attention. Brooke gave me some intensive tutorials on hair care and makeup. Melissa taught me how to clothes shop with a personal flair and Elena went through her closet and gave me a whole suitcase full of clothes that she thought I might like.

It was kind of wonderful to have sisters.

I was very nervous the morning of the mediation, though. I mean, even though my dad had beat me up pretty badly... he was still my dad and I wanted to get back to living with him. It was important to me that we become a family, again. Really important.

But it was also important to me that he understood that I was a gender fluid person, now. That I was going to be expressing myself in a manner that I felt appropriate. He needed to accept that.

So, I was dressed very well for the mediation. I wore a soft pink colored, off the shoulder, summer dress with a lace top to it, that clung tightly to me up top then flared out into a loose skirt that only went to my mid-thigh. I had on a pair of conservative, white, low heeled sandals that I borrowed from Elena and I borrowed a simple gold necklace and a simple gold bangle to match from Melissa.

Brooke did my hair and makeup beautifully. A little curl so my hair had some bounce and my lips looked full and moist. My eyes popped and my skin was radiant.

In short, I looked like a very attractive young lady as I entered the courthouse with Brooke and Mrs Kerr. I'd never been in a courthouse before and it was... a lot to take in. Lots of stress. Everyone was under a lot of pressure. You could feel the fear and anger around you. I didn't like it.

Uncle Mark met us in the lobby and led us to a meeting room on the second floor where my dad, his court appointed attorney and a Clerk of The Court were waiting. Mrs Kerr and Brooke waited in the hallway outside the meeting room. Dad stood as Uncle Mark and I entered.

"Hi, dad," I said, already feeling better, just seeing him.

"Hi, Chef," he said. He shook his head as he looked at me. "You look... amazing," he half smiled.

"Thanks," I said as I blushed a bit.

"Have a seat," Uncle Mark said, indicating a chair.

The next two hours were kind of a blur for me, but the long and the short of it are that my dad apologized to me like he'd never apologized before. He swore up and down that he'd never raise a hand to me again. He agreed to go to anger management therapy, to attend weekly AA meetings and check in with the court in three months and every three months after that for five years to be sure that he was meeting all of the terms of our agreement.

After a lot of talking, Uncle Mark turned to me and asked, "Are you satisfied, Brook?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Then the Clerk asked, "And do you feel comfortable returning to your home?"

"Yes, I do," I said, confidently. "That's really all I want. To be able to return home and live with with my dad again."

The clerk nodded. "Then, I think we've reached an agreement here."

It took a few minutes to have some papers drawn up and for my dad to sign them, but then we were back to being a family again.

"Can I hug my son?" my dad asked when he stood.

"Of course," Uncle Mark said, stepping aside.

I met him halfway and we embraced each other and he hugged me tighter than I ever remember him hugging me. "Oh, Brook, I missed you so much," he said and I could tell he was emotional. The fact that he used my real name was a big clue, but I could feel him shaking, too, and I'm pretty sure he was crying as well.

"I missed you, too, dad." I said.

"I am so sorry, honey. I promise... I promise... I promise... I promise... I promise... I will never hurt you again. You are the most important thing in my life, Brook and I was a complete idiot to ever hurt you. Never again. I promise."

I just let him hug me and reassure himself as much as he was reassuring me that he had changed.

"We should get going," Uncle Mark said after my dad had been hugging me a very long time.

"Yeah," dad said, letting me go and wiping his eyes. "Yeah. Ok."

We walked out into the lobby and met Mrs Kerr and Brook.

"Everything settled?" Mrs Kerr asked, giving me a hug and a kiss on my cheek before giving my dad the same.

"Yes," I replied, a bit tongue tied with emotion.

"We're good," dad said.

Brooke hugged me tightly, then looked at my father and scowled. "Pardon me for saying so, Mr Chapin, but you are far from being 'good.'" She stepped up to him and got right into his face. "In fact, I would say that you are still on pretty shaky ground, as far as I'm concerned."

"Well..." my father tried tried to smile and calm her down, but she wasn't backing off.

Brooke is a tall girl, but she was still half a head shorter than my dad. That didn't seem to bother her, though. "No, sir, there is no 'well' at all. Let me be very clear, so that there are no misunderstandings. I love Brook and I am very concerned about his well being. If I so much as SUSPECT that you have hurt him in any way, and I mean even if you hurt his feelings, I will be on the phone with my Uncle Mark and he will be on the phone with this Courthouse and there will be a police car in front of your car so fast your head will be spinning. Am I making myself clear?"

"As crystal," my father nodded.

"Brooke," Mrs Kerr said, fairly gently, "this is between Brook and his father. You shouldn't be butting in where you have no business."

Brooke never broke eye contact with my father, though. "Bullshit. I don't care what happens from here on out. I don't care if he becomes Mother Teresa of Calcutta, he still beat my little love half to death and I'll never trust him and he needs to know that."

My father nodded and held up a hand in a classic 'halt' manner. "Ok, Brooke. I understand what you're saying and I have apologized to my Brook for what I have done. I have promised him and I promise you and your mother... it'll never happen again."

She didn't smile, not by a long shot, but she did back off a bit and said, "Damned right it won't." Then she looked at me and took my hand. "Come on, baby. Let's go."

I noticed that my father put his arm around Mrs Kerr as they walked along the hallway, too, so obviously they were still an item, which I guess was a good thing.

"Listen," Brooke said quietly to me, "if anything happens - any time of the day or night - you call or just come back to our house. Ok?"

I nodded. "Ok."

"Nothing," she said, "and nobody, is ever going to hurt you again. Understand? Because I won't let it."

I smiled at her. "Ok." I knew she meant what she said, but I did have this nagging feeling that no matter what I'd gone through with my dad, it was just a preview of what awaited me in a couple of weeks when I returned to school for my senior year in my new persona.

Author's Epilogue: I hope you've enjoyed this part of Brook's journey and that you'll join me in a few weeks (it'll take me that long to write it) as Brook starts his senior year of high school and the formerly invisible boy returns to school as a beautiful, gender fluid partner to a beautiful girl. As always, thank you for reading and for your support. Please stay well. ~Clara.
 
 
To Be Continued in series as A Boy Called Brook - Autumn