Dusty Rose - 2

 

Chris has to decide on potential gender counseling and surgery as the group starts getting their act together.

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Author's Note: This is one of my earliest works and a fun one to follow. I would like to thank all of you for kind reviews and emails that I have received here regarding my writing. Please, let me know what you think about my story, both good and bad.
I honestly read my reviews and am always willing to learn! ~Clara.
 
This version of Dusty Rose - 2 has been updated with many corrections towards spelling and grammar.~Sephrena.
 
Image Credit: Image created through the use of ai at https://perchance.org/beautiful-people .~Sephrena.

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Chapter 1
 

"Will you two, please get a move on!? I want you to have some breakfast before you go!" Terry and Chris' mother was shouting towards the living room from the stove where she was making French toast for the twins. Today was the day! Her babies were leaving and it had all happened so quickly. So unexpectedly.

"I'm right here, mom." Terry said, coming into the kitchen. "I've got everything packed and in the hallway. The girls won't be here for another forty-five minutes or so. There's plenty of time."

It didn't matter. Their mom was way too emotional to think clearly today. "Well, where is he? What is he doing?"

"She, mom. You have to remember that you don't have a son. You have two daughters. Where is SHE? What is SHE doing?"

"Alright! Where is SHE and what is SHE doing!?"

"Ironing."

"WHAT!?"

"She's ironing. After she packed up all of her clothes for Nashville, she needed something to wear today. She looked through my closet and found a box of clothes that I wore in junior and senior years of high school. She took it to her room and, this morning she tells me that she found something she liked, but it was wrinkled, so... she's ironing it."

"Does she even know HOW to iron?"

"I guess so. She asked me where the spray starch was."

"Spray starch?" Mom let out a little, surprised laugh. "I should have put that boy in dresses years ago! I hate ironing."

It was Monday morning. Five days since the girls had signed their recording contracts. It had been a whirlwind five days, too! Setting up new business accounts for the girls. Shopping for everything they'd need - especially for Chrissie who had nothing appropriate to start with. Then the hard working schedule that the girls had set up for themselves; four to six hours of rehearsal every day, at least a few hours of writing for Margo, Terry and Chrissie. Chrissie had down loaded some recording software and read and watched tutorials on line to learn how to work in a studio. The resulting files were very good - not professional quality, but very good. They all felt good about their ability to do well in the studios in Nashville.

Above and beyond all this, Chrissie had been practicing how to do his makeup and hair so that he wouldn't have to rely solely on the other girls. He was surprisingly good at it, now. Today he was insisting on picking out his own outfit - that was a first. For the last ten days, Terry had handed his daily attire to him every morning.

Terry came up behind her mom at the stove and wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her back. "I know it's hard to face, but our little girl is all grown up, now, and she's leaving the nest."

Mom laughed and turned to hug Terry correctly. "Oooooo. Both my babies are leaving my nest." She hugged her harder. "I am going to miss you both so, so, so much! Call me everyday. Ok!?"

"Of course we will. And you can come down anytime you want. We may be back soon, if things don't go well!"

"Nonsense. You girls are amazing and they know that. You're going to take them by storm!"

They hugged again. Then, they heard a quiet cough from the doorway. They remained in the hug, but turned to see Chris. His hair was brushed and shining with a couple of bobby-pins on each side pulling it back off of his face. His make-up was understated and beautiful. He was wearing a short, simple string of pearls with matching ear rings and his shoes were two-inched-heeled sandals with very thin, white straps surrounding his pink-painted toenails.

The most startling thing though was his choice of dress. It was a little, navy-blue shirt dress with little white polka-dots and tiny cap-sleeves. The feminine lapels dove down to a modestly-sexy bust-line, then three little, white buttons held the garment tightly around his slender abdomen and, just above the hips, it skirted out into a softly draped, pleated skirt that just touched his knees. He was the picture of a pretty girl and, since the dress was actually a hand-me-down from Terry, it was just the tiniest bit too big on him, making him look just slightly younger than usual.

Both Terry and her mom smiled and let out a quiet, maternal, "Oh."

"Do I look ok?" He spun around so that they could see the back of the dress. "I don't look stupid, do I?"

"Oh, baby," Mom said with great pride as she crossed to him and turned him so she could tighten the bow in the back of the dress a little and thereby pull the dress a little tighter around his form. "You look absolutely perfect." Then she turned him around again to face her, hugged his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on his forehead.

Mom indicated to Terry to come join them in a group hug. As she kissed Terry's cheek and then leaned down a little to kiss Chris, she said, "I love you both, so much! Now, you two take care of each other. There is no one in the world more important to a girl than her sister. I am so glad that you each have one to rely on." She released them and ushered them to the table. "And, now - eat your French toast before you have to go."

Terry laughed a little. "Well, this will probably be the last French toast we eat in a while. According to Evan, we're going to be "in training" starting tomorrow. Strict diets and a personal trainer to get us ready for pictures when the album is done."

"Mmm," Chris mumbled through his nibble of food, "Sounds like fun. I can't wait."

The rented van was in the driveway and the instruments and suitcases were inside as 9:00 rolled around. There were hugs and kisses and tears and promises to call and then they were on their way to Tennessee. Fourteen hours later, five very tired members of Dusty Rose walked into the beautiful, four bedroom suite of their hotel, called dibs on which room belonged to which and, as quickly as possible crawled under the covers. Terry and Chris took the master bedroom with the king sized bed, which they shared, and the lights went out. The last thing that Chris heard before drifting off to sleep was Terry whispering, "So, this is life in the fast lane..."
 
Chapter 2
 

There was a knocking on the door on Tuesday morning. All the girls tried to ignore it, hoping that someone else would answer it. Finally, Chris rolled out of bed and headed out towards the door. He was still wearing the little polka-dot dress. It was wrinkled. He was bare foot and his hair was a mess and his makeup wasn't looking very fresh.

"What!?" he said a little more tersely than he intended.

There was a very pretty and obviously very fit woman at the door with a shopping cart full of yoga mats and exercise equipment. "Good morning, sleepy-head. Time to get to work!!!" The voice was way too cheery for this time of the morning. "Which one are you and where are the others?" And she pushed past Chris into the suite.

"I'm Chris. They're asleep. Who are you and what time is it?"

"I'm Denise" She smiled at Chris, but when there was no indication of recognition, she continued, "Your personal trainer. I know they emailed that I would be here this morning. It's 6:15 and you girls are supposed to be ready for me every weekday at 6:15. They have a lot of confidence in you girls and they want you looking your very best for the cameras."

Chris processed this information while Denise walked around him and appraised his body.

"Not much meat on you, is there? Well, we'll do what we can!" Then she walked from bedroom door to bedroom door, swinging them open and turning on lights while shouting, "Good morning, ladies! Let's get our cute little butts in gear!"

Eventually, Chris was joined by the four other equally tired and disheveled members of Dusty Rose in the common room. They all squinted at Denise as she spoke, nonstop, in her energetic manner. "This is not a good way to start, girls! I work for American Records, too, and my job is to make you as fit as possible in the next three or four weeks, so, here's the deal: Every morning, Monday through Friday, for the length or your stay at this hotel, I will walk through this door at 6:15 on the dot and I will find five, beautiful, young women ready to exercise. Is that clear? You will be wearing appropriate exercise clothing; shorts and tee shirts or, preferably yoga pants or leotards. Is that clear? I will give you an outline of a healthy diet to follow and you will do it without argument. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded and grunted agreement while rubbing their eyes and shaking the sleep out of their heads.

"Now, which one is the face of this crew?"

Confused stares from everyone.

"Who is the lead singer?"

The other four pointed to Chris, who realized that, except for Denise, no one else had said a word since being roused from their beds.

"Hmm." Denise gave him another look-over. "Well, you're pretty enough, I guess, but not exactly built like a brick outhouse, are you?"

Chris was stunned. The other girls jumped in with one syllable shouts of defense, "Hey!" "What?" "Huh?"...

"Sorry... what's your name, sweetness?"

"Chrissie."

"...Chrissie. Sorry, Chrissie, but this is my job. One thing I am glad to see, though, is that you all seem like a team, so we can work together.

"Now, after we finish our workout in this room, I have reserved the hotel pool for a half hour on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, so, starting tomorrow, we will 'cool off' by swimming laps - we'll start with, say, fifty minutes tomorrow and work our way up from there. On pool days, we will finish up by 8:00. I assume you can all swim, right?"

"Yes..." came a unison, unenthusiastic response.

Then, suddenly realizing a problem, Chris shouted, "No! I can't!"

"Can't what? Swim, or just go swimming, because if it's just you're period, I can give you some guidance there..."

"No, umm... I can swim and it's not... well... it's not THAT! But, well... ummm... Oh! I didn't pack a suit! Sorry!"

"Oh," Denise remarked with feigned pity, "that's too bad, little girl." Then her manner changed back to her former drill sergeant persona. "Let's see. I know that you just got paid more to sign a contract than I will make in the next seven months, so, maybe after you girls meet the company big-wigs and get settled into the studio today, you might find a store that sells swim suits SOMEWHERE in this teeny-tiny city! What do you think? It is, after all, the capital of Tennessee - there must be a store someplace in this little town that sells swim suits! Don't you think!?"

Chris tried to think of something to say, but Margo jumped in. "It's ok, Chrissie. I'll help you with it. Don't worry."

But Chris was worried! Where would he hide his 'junk' in a bathing suit for God's sake! And this was the FIRST DAY that he was away from home trying to pull this off! This didn't bode well!
 
Chapter 3
 

Denise let them off that morning. She left the equipment she'd brought for future use in the suite and gave them some paperwork with diet guidelines - pretty restrictive, mostly a vegan diet with some fish or eggs allowed here and there - and left them with a warning that she would not be so nice to them tomorrow and left them to start getting ready for their day.

Each room had a shower, so they all set about preparing for the day. They had picked out the clothes they wanted to wear to impress everyone and they did everything that they could to look like the country stars they admired the most.

By 8:45, the suite smelled of singed hair from curling and straightening irons, hairspray, makeup and subtle, "daytime" colognes. Their stomachs were so full of butterflies that no one could even consider breakfast.

At 9:30, they were greeted by a receptionist in the offices of American Records. They were led to a conference room in which there were seven men and two women including the president of the company, some lower level executives who would be overseeing production, marketing, promotional things, their recording engineer, Mark Johnston, their producer, the legendary Alan Bennett and Evan Stewart, who they had met and who had offered them this opportunity just a few days ago.

They met for more than an hour and the words just spun around the heads of the members of Dusty Rose. They frequently looked to each other to see if anyone understood the corporate talk and legalese of the record company execs. Margo passed a note to Terry and Chris at one point, 'Should we call one of our parents to come down and hear this?' Terry grabbed the note wrote back, 'No! Man-up! Grow a pair!' Margo read it and smiled and wrote on the note again, sliding it back to Terry, 'Maybe we should let Chris take over. He has two pair. One above and one below." Terry read it and almost burst out laughing. She passed the note to Chris, whose face turned blood red. He crumpled the note and threw it into a nearby waste basket.

Finally, after they had all been numbed by the meeting, one of the women, Ellen Jacobs, who had been introduced as their company liaison, "You need anything at all, ladies, ANYTHING!, you tell Ellen and she'll get it for you!" they'd been told, led them to an elevator and down to the recording studio.

"This is it girls! Your home-away-from-home for the next month. This is yours 24/7. You can practice without the staff if you want, or you can have all hands on deck to record you. Whatever you need, different guitars, a piano, a sitar - whatever - we have it and I can get it for you!"

The place was amazing! Wood paneled rooms with huge microphone stands everywhere. Their own instruments had been brought up and set up in their basic rehearsal circle and there were microphones set up in front of each of their amplifiers.

"Holy cow!" Gina said as she looked at the elaborate mic-ing system around her drum kit. "This is so, effenin' cool!!!"

They all moved with wide eyes to their instruments and looked at all the equipment surrounding them. For the first time since they arrived, they started talking. It was a non-stop din of chatter as they looked around at everything.

"Well, it looks like we're ready to start!" came a man's voice through the speaker system. They all got silent and looked around. "In the booth. Look at the big window." They did and from inside, they saw the smiling face of Alan Bennett as he waved out to them. "What we're going to do for the next couple of hours, ladies, is just have you play through a few of your songs so I can get a feel for them and Mark, our engineer, can get an idea of how you play so we know how to proceed. Sound good?"

They all agreed.

"Chrissie," Alan Bennett said through the speakers, "you can sing from the studio while we rehearse, but you'll record from that booth over there when the time comes. Ok?"

Chris nodded that he understood.

"And one last thing, girls," He said and there was a little laughter in his voice, "you all look beautiful today, but recording is a long, hard process and I'd rather you were comfortable, so starting tomorrow, dress like you would for an ordinary rehearsal in your old space. Leave the high heels and perfect hair for the public. Here, you can be yourselves. Alright?" They smiled and nodded. "Alright! Let's hear what you do!"

Then, until 1:00 when they broke for lunch, Dusty Rose played their songs and, with each new song they sang, they could tell that Alan was more and more impressed!
 
Chapter 4
 

They broke for lunch.

Just outside of the studio was a moderately sized cafeteria with a huge variety of choices. The band was allowed to order first. While they were looking at the menu, they chatted with the crew they would be working with.

Chris was standing and talking to Margo and one of the technicians, when Margo elbowed Chris and pointed in the direction of Terry. "Look at that!" Margo whispered to him. Across the room, Terry was standing alone with Mark, the recording engineer. Mark was in his mod-twenties, very tall, six feet two or more, and very handsome. Short, neat, full head of hair. Blue eyes behind steel rimmed glasses. Well dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. Terry's body language was readable even from across the room. She was flirting, no doubt about it and, you could tell by Mark's body language, too, that he was flirting right back.

Just then, Ellen burst into the room and hollered in a not very businesslike manner, "Margo, Terry and Christine! I need to see you all in the booth - Right Now!!!"

As if a teacher had just scolded them, the two girls and Chris walked shamefacedly out of the cafeteria, across the hall and into the recording booth where they found Evan sitting in Mark's chair looking pretty upset.

Ellen slammed the door behind her and looked into the studio to insure they were alone. When she turned on the group there was fire in her eyes. She slammed a crumpled not onto the console and, with almost no control left in her voice, she growled, "What the fuck is this all about!?"

It was the note that Terry and Margo had passed back and forth during the meeting.

No one said a word.

"What are you, a faggot? Take off that dress and let me see your body!"

Chris was stunned and couldn't make a move or a sound.

"Did you hear me!" She yelled! "I will not lose my job because some little fairy wants to play games and 'pretend' to be a girl! You got that, Sally!" She had moved very close to Chris's face and her anger was pouring out of her. "So, you prove to me that you are a bitch, or you get our pansy ass out of my recording studio! You have three seconds! One!"

No one moved.

"Two!"

Evan slammed his hand on the console, "Ellen come on..."

"Three!"

"That's enough!" The voice came from the doorway. Alan Bennett had entered unnoticed at some point and had obviously heard a lot. "I've heard plenty of this conversation, Ellen, and you are way out of line here!"

"Look at this note!" She handed him the note. He read it and calmly folded it and put it in his pocket.

"And...?"

"And!?!?!? And that's a boy! We can't promote a band with a boy pretending to be a girl! This can't be kept quiet! We'll be ruined!"

Alan looked at Evan. A question passed between them. Chris saw it. Alan was definitely asking Evan if Ellen knew for sure. Evan shook his head in response.

Alan Bennett took a deep breath and let it out again. "Alright. Girls, go get some lunch and relax. In about an hour, we're going to try to lay down some scratch tracks on a couple of songs. Evan, you take them. Ellen, you and I need to have a nice long, calm conversation right here."

"No we do not!" She started to protest, but Alan put up his right hand and waved her off.

"A nice long conversation with me. Perhaps you didn't know this, but I own fifty-three percent of this company, so I think you can spare me a few minutes, don't you?"

Ellen looked around, then nodded in resignation. "Yes, I think I can."

"Come on girls," Evan muttered quietly and led them out into the hallway.

Once in the hall, Evan turned to Margo and in an angry whisper, hissed, "What were you thinking!? The very first day and you find a way to blow this whole thing!? The one thing that you agreed to never mention, you write down and leave around for people to see!? Are you nuts!?"

Terry interceded. "Evan, Chris threw the note in the waste basket. I'm sorry. I should have taken it with me and destroyed it, but, come on, who would expect anyone to go through the waste baskets after a ...."

"I would! And so should you! That's how corporate America works; finding out other people's secrets."

The girls nodded in sorrow and agreement. At that moment, they noticed that Chris was no longer with them. They turned at looked down the hallway where Chris was seated on a small bench; his knees together, with his elbows on them and his head buried in his hands.

"Chrissie," Terry and Margo both called softly as they hurried down the hall.

"Are you, ok, baby?" Terry asked as she sat beside him and Margo knelt in front of him.

Chris shook his head and looked at them. His eyes were rimmed in red, but he had not cried. "No. I'm not ok. I don't think this is going to work. Do you?" He looked from Margo to Terry, but neither answered. "It's day one and already I have to wear a bathing suit tomorrow - which we all know, I can't do - and at least two more people know I am a guy! At this rate, it will be in tomorrow's New York Times! 'New Jersey Boy Is a Freak In a Dress' - more on page six!"

"What do you mean, two people. It was only Ellen?" Margo asked.

"And Mr Bennett," Chris reminded her. "He heard everything and it was obvious that he knew before."

"Of course he knew." Evan chimed in. "He is the president of this company. I had no choice but to tell him, but he promised me and he made me promise him that this would never be discussed! Let's see how this plays out before we panic, alright?"

Margo and Terry nodded, but Chris put his head back in his hands and this time the sobs came. His shoulders shook as he tried to stop it, but he felt so powerless and useless. He knew that he'd let everyone down and he couldn't bear the thought of 'going home to mommy' and having to admit how he'd failed.

Terry hugged him while Margo kissed the crown of his head, but he couldn't be comforted until a man's voice cut through his misery.

"Chrissie," The voice said, but at first it seemed far away and Chris didn't even acknowledge it. "Chrissie." This time it was louder and caught his attention. He raised his tear-soaked and mascara smeared face and Alan Bennett was squatting down next to him. Alan had his hands on Chris' shoulders and was looking him right in the eye. "Chrissie," he was saying. His voice was calm and paternal. "Chrissie, Ellen would like to speak to you for a moment."

Chris looked up higher and spotted Ellen standing behind Alan. She looked very upset and returned Chris' stare with a brief, weak smile. "Look, Chrissie, I am really sorry. I guess... well, I mean, how could anyone have anticipated this? And, well, I know this must happen all the time - ever since you were little - but I really do apologize from the bottom of my heart. Mr Bennett has said that I can stay on as your liaison, if that's ok with you, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep your secret! Your's too, Terry. I will be on your side 24/7/365. Ok?"

Terry and Chris and Margo all exchanged shocked and confused glances. Then, Chris looked at Alan who had never looked away from Chris' eyes. He still held his stare while he said, "Thank you, Ellen. You can go, now. I need to talk to the girls."

Ellen nodded, again the weak smile, and left.

"My secret?" Terry asked.

Alan let out a long, frustrated sigh. "I had to think on my feet! Evan and I had planned to take you girls for a bite to eat tonight to discuss a cover story in case one was needed in the future. Obviously, things got ahead of us! So, I came up with a story that not only would shut Ellen up, but get her on your side."

He stood, now, and helped Chris to his feet. "I told her that you were born an hermaphrodite and that you had been raised as a boy until your 'late puberty' hit, about a year ago, and you started to blossom. Now, you live as a woman full time and you are anticipating corrective surgery when the time is appropriate. I also made it clear to Ellen that she needs to protect you from the media and the world in general. This is top secret information and it is her job to keep it that way. She is to care for you as if you are her little sister. I also gave her a huge raise. I don't think that Ellen will be a problem ever again."

Chris took all of this in and, eventually, he nodded and wiped his face. A little relief passed across his face as well.

"But," He said, "This is just day one and I am in so deep. She found out..."

"Because of a note that should never have been written."

Margo grimaced. "Sorry."

"Don't let it EVER happen again," Alan smiled at her.

"... and tomorrow, I am supposed to go swimming as part of my exercise regime. How do I handle that!?"

"Look," Alan laughed, "you created this persona. I have dealt with many artists who have weird lifestyles - at least yours has the potential to appear normal. Just don't panic and find a solution. Keep everything as simple as possible and no one will question you. Besides, Denise isn't all that bright."

Alan turned Chris so that he faced him again. His hands were on both of Chris' upper arms as he spoke. "I haven't even heard you guys hit your stride, yet, and I am already impressed by you. I want this to work out, so make it work! I know you can do it!" Then he pulled Chris in for a big, supportive hug. When he released the hug, he gave Chris a soft kiss on the cheek, then patted that cheek with his large hand. "Now, be a good girl and make me a richer man." Then he tweaked Chris's nose and walked down the hall.

Chris was stunned - by everything.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Terry. "Hey! Wait! What's my secret!?"

Alan didn't even turn. He spoke while he walked away. "You're twins. You used to suffer from the same condition, but your surgery was more obvious, so you had it performed on you when you were an infant." Then he disappeared into the cafeteria.

The four of them, Margo, Terry, Chris and Evan, stood in shocked silence until Margo said, "Wow. You think you know a girl..."

"No kidding, huh?" Terry said. "I can't wait to read my Wikipedia page."
 
Chapter 5
 

"So," Alan Bennett was in the studio talking to the girls, "for the purposes of a scratch track, this is how we will work. We'll pick a song and decide on the perfect tempo. Then record a click track - that's just a metronome click for the length of the song. Then one of you plays a really simplified accompaniment - just a simple strum on a guitar - and Chris sings along. When that is done, we can begin to build our recording. So, who is going to play the guitar tracks?"

Terry said, "I guess that Chris and I should. I play all the simple stuff. Gracie plays the hard parts."

"Alrighty, then! Terry and Chris, you have a couple more hours of work ahead of you. The rest of you can do whatever you'd like with the rest of your day."

"Cool!" Gina chirped! "Let's go shopping! I need a new swimsuit and I know that Chrissie does, too."

"So do I!!" Terry reminded them. "And be nice to Chrissie! Pick out sometime conservative, but pretty. My little sister is not a slut." The others smiled and gathered their purses together. "...But I am!! Find something cute, but sexy as hell!!! Size two!!! I want it to really show off my butt!!!" She stood and turned to show her rear end to the others who were already laughing and waving her off. "This is good stuff back here and I want it to be well framed!!! No granny-panty bottoms. Hot stuff! Victoria's Secret stuff!!!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Margo laughed and waved as the door shut.

Terry and Chris worked on scratch tracks for the next four hours until Alan sent them home. "Eat, sleep and come back at 10:00 tomorrow morning. I really think we're doing something special with your stuff." He kissed them both on the cheeks; the kiss of an affectionate uncle. "Good night, girls."

When they got back to the hotel, there was a sewing machine set up in the suite.

"What's all this?" Terry asked as she entered.

"Did you know that our quiet, little Gracie could sew?" Gina asked a bit mockingly.

"I did not know that!" Terry replied with the same playfulness.

"Well," Gina continued in the same tone, "It turns out that she can. So, we picked up this sewing machine - top of the line, I might add, nothing but the best for Dusty Rose's favorite lead-guitar-slash-banjo-slash-mandolin player - and she has made some very clever alterations to little Chrissie's first one-piece-all grown-up-big-girl bathing suit."

Grace appeared from Terry and Chris' bedroom. She was carrying a bathing suit with a tropical flower pattern on it. "Oh, you're back! Hi!"

"And here it is! The latest in country music swimwear and ready for you to try on." Gina jumped across the common room to where Grace was standing and she displayed the swimsuit as if she were a model on The Price is Right. "Pretty and revealing in all the right places, but guaranteed to keep all of your secrets secret!"

Grace took the suit back from Gina and walked over to let Chris and Terry see what she'd done. "I had a friend in high school who was really petite - no real boobs or butt, either - so she shopped at this store for petite woman. Well, there was one of those stores here in Nashville, too, so we went there and I bought this suite for you, Chris. It has a little bit subtle padding built into the bust, hips and butt to make you a little curvier."

She held the suit so that Chris and Terry could inspect the padding. She was right, it was only a very little padding, but probably would make a difference.

"Thanks, Grace, but my butt isn't my biggest concern..."

"I know, I know. So, Margo told us about those gaffs that you wear to keep everything tucked in, so to speak, so I bought this sewing machine and some 'invisible' nylon thread and I sewed a gaff into the suit. Look!" Grace turned the suit inside out at the crotch and her handiwork was evident. "Tah dah! I took one of yours out of your suitcase and copied it. I was just putting it back when you came in. Go try it on!"

She practically pushed Chris into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

When he emerged from the room, he looked great. Curves in all the right places and no bulges where there shouldn't be.

"Nice work, Gracie!" Gina offered from the couch as she turned on the suite's TV and searched for a channel.

Terry, Grace and Chris all set about cleaning up the sewing machine and its work, when it finally occurred to Terry to ask, "Hey, where's Margo?"

"Right here!" She hollered as she burst through the door carrying a couple of shopping bags. "We bought our bathing suits and the sewing machine and came back here without buying any cover-ups. I figured we'd need them to get from here to the pool in the morning, so I went back out. Wow! Chrissie, you look - amazing!"

Chris blushed just a bit. "Thanks."

"Here, put your arms up and I will help you put on your cover-up."

He did as instructed and Margo lowered what looked like a summer dress over his head. The top was made out of a band of bubbly, elastic material that clung softly to his bust. Then, it hung loosely to his upper thigh in a very pretty way, with eyelets forming floral patterns cut into it.

"There," She turned him towards the mirror, "aren't you the cutest thing!?" She kissed his neck from behind and rubbed his fanny through the dress. Then, she turned to the others and passed out their cover-ups.

Terry's was just a large scarf-type thing that wrapped around her breasts and hung down. Gracie's was like a simple, red sundress and both Margo and Gina's looked like elongated polo shirts that hung to their knees. They all held them up and looked at them, enthused over them and thanked Margo.

"Hey!" Chris got their attention. "Why is mine so frilly? I look like a child in this and you all look so, well, sophisticated and grownup in yours."

Margo turned him back to the mirror. "Look how pretty you look like that." She said. Then, without a thought, she pulled off her dress and pulled her cover-up on. Chris felt very excited to see Margo so casually disrobe. She turned back to the mirror and looked at Chris' reflection. "Look at me. I am a girl wearing a men's style top; it's just a little longer than usual. I look ok, right?"

"I think you look beautiful." Chris said, truthfully.

"Nice; yes, but I look a little boyish, which can be sexy in its own way. You look beautiful, though. Soft, young, sexy and vulnerable. That's beautiful on you and that's the image you need to always project. The 'good girl'. The 'farmer's daughter'. I just play bass behind you. Being beautiful is now your job and you are great at it, sweetheart." Then she hugged him from behind and kissed him, again, on his neck. "Besides, you grew up in khakis and jeans while our moms were forcing us into frilly, uncomfortable dresses against our wills! I've heard Terry say at least twenty times, 'it's like having my own life-sized American Girl doll' and she's right! We all enjoy making you pretty.

Then she turned Chris towards her and gave him a soft, passionate kiss on the lips while the other girls shouted, "Oh, gross," and other immature and funny remarks.

"You like being pretty for me, don't you, baby?" she whispered to him.

Chris shook his head and smiled up at her. "No. I love looking pretty for you, Margo. Make me as pretty as you like." They kissed once more and then hugged as they joined the others for an evening in front of the TV.
 
Chapter 6
 

Denise arrived at the suite at 6:30 the next morning, Chris and the others were all wearing yoga pants and exercise tops. She ran them through a rigorous, hour long yoga session. The four girls had done yoga many times and it was tough for them. Chris ached everywhere when they finished.

"I thought this was supposed to be a relaxing exercise?" Chris grumbled as they finished.

"Once you're used to it, it will be. We have to work on a few problem areas as we go along. Margo, you're in pretty good shape?"

"Good?" Margo mocked as she stood and posed like a body builder. "I am an Amazon Queen!"

"Gina, you need to strengthen your pecks just a little. You have a nice rack there, but they can get a little perkier with some work."

"Thanks... I guess" Gina looked at her boobs and played with them for a moment.

"Grace, you have a little posture issue. You're tall and lean, but sometimes you stand like a question mark. You need to focus a bit on your shoulder muscles."

"Yes, 'em. Will do!" Gracie replied.

"And you two," She pointed at both Chris and Terry, "have to work on your upper legs a little. Terry, you have a little cottage cheese developing right here." Denise ran her hand along the back of Terry's leg just where it met her rump.

"What?"

"Don't panic! That's why I am here! But you, little girl," She turned and placed her hand on Chris' rump this time, "have the hips and butt of a fifteen year old boy. We need to firm that thing up and get it sticking out a bit. Let the world know it's there! Ok!?"

Chris smiled through the embarrassment he felt. "Ok!"

"Good! Now we're all on the same page! Quick, ladies! Bathing suits on and let's go swim some laps. Five minutes to change."

Four minutes later, clad in their new bathing suits and cover-ups they all headed for the pool. Just as the elevator doors opened in the basement of the hotel, Denise's cell phone rang.

"Hello, this is Denise." "Right now? But, we're not done and she's not really dressed for..." "Yes, sir. I'll send her out. Right now."

She disconnected the call and grabbed Chris by the arm and pushed him back into the elevator. "You four start swimming. 25 laps a piece. No cheating! Chris, that was Alan Bennett's secretary. He wants you in the studio - NOW!"

The elevator doors closed with Denise and Chris inside. She pushed the lobby button and it started to rise.

"Now!? I'm not dressed!! I haven't done my make up!! I'm still in a bathing suit!!"

"It doesn't matter if you're in your birthday suit! When Alan Bennett calls, you do what he says, little girl! He sent a car for you. It should be out in front." The doors opened. "Come on." She led him towards the front of the lobby.

Chris froze midway across. "Denise." They stopped. "why me - alone? Did I do something wrong? Can't I take Terry with me?"

Denise could see panic in Chris' face. She suddenly wasn't a drill sergeant anymore. "Oh, don't worry, baby girl. I'm sure it's studio stuff. If you were in trouble, he'd have you meet him in his office." It suddenly dawned on Denise that Chris looked very young. "How old are you, sweetie?"

Chris, who had been staring in fear towards the door, looked briefly at Denise, "seventeen." His attention went back to the door and he noticed a man in a black suit had entered. He was obviously a chauffeur and he was obviously here for Chris.

"Wow." Denise's surprise was real. "You really are a baby, aren't you? Is this your first time away from home?"

Chris nodded. "Monday was the first night I ever slept anywhere but at home or in a hospital. Denise... Denise, do I look ok like this?"

"Honey, if there's one thing I know about Alan Bennett, it's that he isn't calling you in because he wants to get you alone. Alan Bennett is one of the most happily married men I have ever met. He is all business at the studio, so he couldn't care less if you showed up in a ball gown or your skivvies - just that you come when he calls. So, go on!" She gave him a quick, playful slap on the bottom. "Git!"
 
Chapter 7
 

"Good morning, beautiful!" Alan said as Chris entered the studio. "Are we feeling good, today?" He gave Chris a warm hug and kissed him on the cheek.

Chris smiled. "I'm ok, I guess. Is there anything wrong?"

The only other person in the studio was Mark, the technician. He was setting up a guitar mic and a vocal mic in front of a chair.

"Wrong? No, why?" Alan grabbed his iPad off of a music stand and started scrolling through his notes.

"Well... I don't know... why did you call just me down here?"

"Because I need just you. Chrissie, you work for me now. I am your boss. This is a business and I call who I need when I need them. Is that a problem?"

Chris shook his head franticly. "No, no, of course not. It's just that, you know, after yesterday... well, I was scared."

Alan laughed, "Oh. I get it! No, look," He directed Chis' attention to his iPad, "I made some notes on yesterday's scratch tracks and I only need you, me and Mark here to try a few things. So, put your big-girl panties on and let's start." Now, he seemed to look at Chris' clothes for the first time. "Are you wearing a bathing suit?"

Chris lifted the hem of his cover up so Alan could see. "Yes. I was about to jump in the pool when you called."

"Why didn't you change?"

"Because Denise said..."

Alan laughed. "Denise!? I told you she's not that bright! Well. I can't let you leave now, but you're ok in that, aren't you?"

"Sure, I guess..."

"Good. I sent word to the others to not come until 1:30. You and I are going to work on one song until then. You know that one," he checked his notes on the iPad, "Those Eyes that we laid the scratch for last, yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Well, I listened to it a lot and I think we have our first winner there. There are two things I want you to try, so sit and let's get started."

Alan led Chris to the chair in front of the mics. Chris sat and crossed his legs at the knee. Mark handed him his guitar. Alan sat in another chair nearby.

"First thing, I want to try it a little higher in your range. Here," Alan handed Chris a capo, a small clamp that shortens the neck length of the guitar and raises the key of the song the person is playing. "Put this on the third fret."

Chris did as he was instructed.

"Now play and sing the song."

Chris strummed and when he started singing, it felt very high. "Those eyes can see me when I'm sleeping. Those eyes, they make me want to cry." He stopped.

"What's the matter?"

"It's really high and if I push up there, won't I sound like a guy straining for high notes?" Chris whispered so Mark couldn't hear.

"Chris, country girls are all belting out songs now. Open up and let it out. This time, though, instead of Those Eyes, I want to hear you sing, His Eyes. That's a lot sexier. Try it."

"Ok." Chris took a deep breath and tried it Alan's way. It was awesome. His voice seemed to flow out like it never had before and the new words made it so personal. It was a little weird at first, singing about a man, but when he considered it, songwriters wrote for the opposite sex all the time. This was no different. As the song went on, Chris closed his eyes and really let the song flow through him.

When he finished, Alan leapt up and shouted, "Yes, yes, yes!!! That's what I want!" He practically lifted Chris out of his seat to hug him. "Do it like that one more time, Chrissie! I want one more take with that passion from beginning to end." Alan released his hug so Chris could sit back down. Then he gave Chris another kiss on the cheek as he headed back to the recording booth. "One more time, my country music princess! Just like that!!!"
 
Chapter 8
 

It was almost time for the others to arrive. Chris and Alan had been working for several hours on different songs. Always a little higher and always changing pronouns to sound like Chris was singing to a man.

Alan had sent Mark off to get some lunch, so it was just the two of them working side by side. Chris had never really done such personal, almost intimate, work with anyone before. He was very comfortable around Alan and Alan acted like, well almost like he was Chris' uncle - or even his father.

"I think we need the girls here to continue," Alan said as the playback stopped. "So. Let's chat, ok?"

"Sure." Chris sat back. He knew the conversation wasn't going to be about the music. He avoided making eye contact with Alan.

"You have a big future here, sweetheart. I have seen a lot of young people with talent come through these doors, but not many like you and your sister and your friends."

Chris smiled and nodded, waiting for the rest of the story.

"But, as a business man, I do have to talk to about... about your situation. This is a big deal and I want you to get some counseling to be sure that you make the right choices."

"Counseling?" Chris was a little taken aback.

"Yes. Gender counseling. You're preparing to live as a girl, Chris - no, as a woman. Have you thought about how this is going to affect every aspect of your life?"

"Yes, sir, I have and I am sure that I am doing what's right for me and Terry."

"Are you? There are things that will have to be done eventually, you know. It's possible that your chin won't get stronger or your bone structure won't get wider, but you can't wear glue on boobs for the rest of your life."

"Yes, sir. I know."

"Please, stop with the 'sir' stuff, Chrissie."

"Ok, Mr Bennett."

"Never mind. Stick with 'sir', if you can't call me Alan. Exactly how old are you sweetheart?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in September."

"That's a problem."

"Why?"

"Because the press will be all over you girls by September." He paused and thought for a moment. "Chrissie, I am going to make a suggestion - Now, I know that you are still a very young man and I assume that there are aspects of manhood you'd like to keep; meaning your penis."

Chris' jaw fell open. "Well, yes, sir. I mean, I really like girls..."

"I don't mean to embarrass you, honey, but this is part of the business and I have to know where things are headed."

Chris nodded that he understood, but he wished that he could just melt away rather than continue this conversation.

"Here's my proposal: I want you to get that counseling. We have great people on payroll for that - discreet people. I know that, in a typical situation, with counseling, etc, it would be a year or more before this ever came up, but, if you are willing, we have some great and discreet cosmetic surgeons on our payroll, too."

"Cosmetic surgeons?"

"Yes. Well, since you want your penis to still function, hormones are out of the question and, besides, our clock is ticking. I am thinking that the best course for us, you and the company, that is, to follow is to have artificial breasts implanted in your chest. They would look completely natural and remove the possibility that anyone could discover that you were wearing silicone boobs."

Chris looked down at the breasts he'd been wearing for the last week and a half - wow, had it only been a week and a half!? It felt like forever. So much had changed. The band, the girls, Nashville... It was all just because he looked like a girl - and he REALLY LIKED how he looked. Did he want to make it permanent?

"The procedure can be done, quietly, any day you decide. There is a ten day to two week recovery, a little pain from the skin stretching, but nothing too much, and then you'd have a more or less natural pair. The beauty of this is that, should you girls be one hit wonders of something like that and you want to go back to being Christopher, it is completely reversible - they can be removed."

Chris was still staring at his phony boobs and thinking. Then he quietly asked. "How do you know so much about this stuff, sir?"

Alan laughed. "Chrissie, this is the music 'business.' Image is even more important than talent for a lot of my clients - male and female. You girls are amazing, but I can't have your first releases be side tracked by scandal. Maybe this is too much pressure for someone as young as you..."

"I'll do it," Chris interrupted.

Alan stopped and looked at Chris for a long time before speaking again. "Are you sure?"

Chris nodded. "Yes, sir. It's not even just for the band. I was just never much at being a guy and I seem to be really good at being a girl. I still see myself as a guy as far as my penis... This is hard for me to talk about, sir, but I... well... I want to do it."

"I will need to talk to your mom before we do anything, you know. You are still legally a child."

Chris nodded and thought about how tough that conversation was going to be.

"This is Wednesday, and it's nearly noon. Is she home now? Can we call her or Skype her?"

"She doesn't get home from work till around 5:30, sir, but Terry and I have been Skype-ing her every night at around 7:00."

"Good! We'll do that from my office at 7:00, then. Is that ok?"

Chris finally looked up and smiled at Alan Bennett. He felt relieved that someone had brought this up. He hadn't realized until now, but he'd been envying the girl's equipment. How it must feel to have real boobs. The way that a bra cupped them. How they felt to touch. He knew that this was what he really wanted to do. "Yes, sir. That's great."
 
Chapter 9
 

"...So, there would be no hormones, he'd still be able to father children if he wanted to and it would be reversible if he wanted to go back to living as a boy?"

It had been a long day for Chris. Denise had not told them to bring clothes for Chris, so he was still in his suit and little cover-up. They'd recorded drum and bass and a few guitar tracks for His Eyes, but Alan Bennett was a real task-master in the studio, so there was a lot of pressure. Gina, in particular, was really frustrated with her own playing and had to take a few minutes to pull herself together. Chris had gone into the hallway with her and told her how great she was playing and encouraged her to keep it up. Gina pulled it together, listened to everything that Alan said and played great. At 6:00, Alan had dismissed the rest of the band, but Chris stayed behind for the on-line chat between him, Alan and mom. Mom was a little freaked at first, but things had become calmer and now, she was understanding that this really was what Chris wanted.

"That's right, Mrs Johnson."

"And Chrissie, honey, are you sure that you are ready for this?"

"Yes, mom, I know I am. I talked to Terry about it this afternoon, too. She's here with me mommy, so you know that I am in good hands."

"What did she say about it?"

"She cried a little at first and asked if she was forcing this on me, but, honestly, mom, I am so much happier looking like a girl than a boy. It's like I'm better at it, you know?"

Her image in the computer screen nodded. "All right, then, baby. Email me the forms and I will sign them and fax them back in the morning."

When Chris got back to the hotel, it was nearly 11:00. The girls were all in their nighties, but they had been anxiously waiting to hear what Chris had to say. He told them everything that had happened that day.

"So, I am meeting the doctor tomorrow and, of everything goes well, I'll get real boobies on Friday."

"Friday!?!?!?" They all seemed shocked, but no one seemed more concerned than Margo.

"Chrissie, are you sure about this?" She asked. "I feel like I am somehow responsible for this. Are you sure that this is what you want to do?"

"I am. I know this is right for me."

Terry had her 'mother hen' look on, a look that she had taken to a lot when dealing with Chris for the last two weeks, but Chris could tell that she was ok with it. Gina and Gracie seemed, understandably, surprised, but Margo seemed more agitated than Chris expected.

Finally she took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom. "We'll be right back. We just need to talk." She called over her shoulder.

The door shut and Margo turned and looked at Chris. She bit her lip while she thought and then said, "Listen, Chris, I have to talk to you about this - just you and me."

"Ok."

"You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know, but it's what's best for the band and I think..."

"What if there was no band?"

"What!?"

"Remember when Alan laid into Gina and you went out into the hall to talk to her?"

"Yes..."

"I was really pissed that he made her feel bad and I told him so. And you know what he said? He said, 'You all have to be as good as Chrissie, or Chrissie can do this all by herself.' He said that you had everything going for you. That the 'girl band' idea was a great way to get everything going, but that you were good enough to do this without any of us - even as a guy."

Chris was stunned. Alan Bennett had never said anything like that to him.

"So, why don't we just go home and you can do this all by yourself without the tits and without the dresses, ok!?"

Chris sat on the bed and shook his head, trying to figure everything out.

Margo was more agitated than Chris had ever seen her. "In the past couple of weeks, things have really been going crazy for me and, I have to tell you, I think that am really falling for you. You know what, I can tell you exactly when I started thinking of you differently - I mean not as Terry's little brother, but - I don't know how to say it, but - well, as someone I wanted to get involved with - romantically involved. You know?"

Chris sat on the bed and looked up at her, then down at the floor, "I guess. Yeah."

"It was in your basement when you sang with us the first time. I just kind of fell for you right then and there."

Chris kept looking down, but he nodded.

"Well, once you started wearing dresses and getting all pretty, I just fell deeper and deeper. I don't know exactly what that says about me - I've been with guys and I like guys and I don't think about girls in a sexual way, but the girlier you get the more I want you and the girlie I want you to be."

Chris nodded some more.

"That's weird, isn't it? But Chrissie, I am not thinking about this as a heterosexual thing or a homosexual thing... I just think that I love you, Chrissie."

Chris turned his head up and smiled at Margo. He had tears in his eyes.

"The thing is, though, it's all kind of a fantasy, but, now you're going to make it permanent and I think I need to know where you stand. Where do you see this all going, baby? Are you going to take hormones or get castrated, because, when I fantasize, I am not seeing myself with a girl. That little tube of skin tucked into your bathing suit's crotch is a big deal for me and it SHOULD BE for you, too! Look, if it comes down to losing the opportunity to be in a successful band or you keeping you wiener, there is no contest - keep your wiener, little one."

Chris stood up and hugged Margo. Then he stood on his tiptoes to kiss her. The kiss turned passionate before it ended.

"I love you, too. I really do and when I think about the future, it's always with you. I am getting, this done so that we can be successful - all of us - together and, you know as well as I do, no one gave a care about me as a boy. As a girl - I'm happy. I have friends. I'm successful and I have friends and I feel so nice in my new clothes. I feel pretty and I love that feeling. I also love being a part of the group - you know, all of you guys. I can't go back to being a nothing! I can't go back to being all alone, all the time. I want to do this so that I can continue all those things, but I will always stay a boy, too. I promise."

Margo smiled, then hugged him and rested her chin on his forehead. "So, when you, you know - masturbate, and you fantasize, you're always with a girl, right?"

Chris was quiet for a moment, then very quietly said, "I never masturbated."

Margo moved back just a bit to look into his face. "What? Never?"

"You know, it's mom and Terry and me and I always felt like I'd get caught, so..."

"Wow." She whispered and then kissed him long and soft on his lips. She let go of him and the raised his arms and pulled his little, white coverup off. Then, she lowly lowered the straps of the bathing suit he'd been wearing all day. Slowly, she pulled the suit down around his ankles and he stepped out of it.

As Margo looked over his body, he allowed himself to relax a bit.

"Lay down on the bed, baby girl." Margo smiled and almost laughed. She really loved the idea that Chris was her 'baby girl' but was thrilled that her baby girl had a good sized penis as well.

Chris lay on his back and Margo lay on her side beside him. She supported her head on her left arm while she ran her right hand over his artificial breasts. When she reached his belly, his stomached spasmed with nervous surprise.

"Wow, you have the softest skin of any boy I ever knew." Chris looked up into her eyes, so confident and so sure of herself. When Margo looked into Chris' eyes, she saw fear and excitement, but she was sure that he trusted her, too.

"And no hair, either." She whispered. "I like that. Soft and sexy and girlie, but then..." She ran a finger along the shaft of his penis and smiled at the surprised gasp that Chris let out. "Is this ok? Can I touch it?"

Chris nodded.

Margo wrapped her hand around Chris' shaft and started to slowly stroke it. I hardened and became erect. "And you're big down there, too." She kissed his neck. "Awesome."

Chris was being overwhelmed by the sensations.

Suddenly, she stopped. She reached across him with her right hand and took his left hand in hers. Then she guided it to his penis where she wrapped it around his shaft and then, keeping his hand wrapped around his member, she enveloped his hand in hers and started guiding it in the up/down motion she'd been using one him.

Chris's eyes rolled back in their sockets. Then he closed his lids and his breathing became out in shivers of restrained excitement.

"There you go." She encouraged. "That's nice, isn't it?" She leaned in and kissed his lips, softly, passionately. Chris' hips started to rock in sync with his hand motion. Margo let go of his hand and started to lightly tickle the smooth area where Chris had once had pubic hair. Her kisses moved down to his neck and he let out another, whispered gasp. Margo lifted her head and leaned back just a bit to watch Chris. As he drew even closer to orgasm, she smiled down at him. "That's my girl. Here it comes, baby. Here it comes."

And Chris exploded onto the smooth, soft skin of his abdomen. At first he could barely breath, but then he let out some soft moans. "Shh, baby, shhh," Margo whispered. "Hush, sweetie, the girls are on the other side of the door. Shhh."

As Chris' breathing slowed and became more normal, Margo laid back and reached over to grab the tissue box on the night stand. She pulled out a few tissues and handed them to Chris. "Here, sweetpea, clean up. Why don't you flush those and take a quick shower. I just wanted to be sure that you knew what it felt like. You liked, it, right?"

Chris sat up and pulled a sheet around him, becoming strangely timid and feminine. He pulled his long hair loose of the sheet and then he looked at Margo, thought for a moment, blushed, smiled and nodded. "I did," he giggled. He fell back into Margo's arms for on more moment, kissed her, then jumped off the bed, still wrapped in the sheet, and disappeared into the bathroom.
 
Chapter 10
 

"So, how big are we going with these?" Doctor Casey, a beautiful woman in her thirties, was looking at Chris's chest. Dr. Casey had removed the prosthetic breasts. Chris' own chest was looking a little red and irritated. She had already told him that she would provide him with some silicone enhancers that he could stuff into his bra for the next couple of days. “Just show less cleavage until the surgery,” she had advised.

“I… I don’t know…” Chris said.

“Not too big,” Margo said.

“About like mine, I should think.” Terry said.

The examining room was crowded with all these woman crammed in, but Chris’ mother’s paperwork had insisted that Terry be there and Chris had insisted that Margo be there, too.

“So, a 34B, then? That should look nice on your frame, I should think. I am going to have one of my nurses bring in a couple of padded bras for you to try. They will be sized at 32B, 34B and 34C. Take a look at them, try them with a tee shirt and see how they look. I’ll be back in to see what you think.”

The girls helped Chris try on the bras and offered lots of criticism. Eventually, they decided on the 34B.

“They look a little bigger on you than Terry, though.” Margo offered.

“Really?” Terry was a little surprised at her reaction, but she actually was a little jealous. She stood beside Chris in the mirror and compared herself to him.

Margo looked from one twin to the other. “Wow! Over the last two weeks, you two have gone from looking similar to almost being identical twins, except the height thing.”

Terry looked at their reflection and put her arm around Chris’ shoulders. “We do look more alike than I ever thought we did. I mean, we have pictures from when we were little and mom dressed us alike, but we both looked like boys back then. Little shorts and tee shirts. Never as girls.”

Chris looked at the two of them in the mirror, too. “Never as girls…” He repeated. “Terry, if dad were still alive, what do you think he’d think of this?”

Terry was really caught off guard. Their dad had been dead for nearly six years now. He was killed in a car accident home from visiting Chris in the hospital when he was in seventh grade. They both missed him, of course, but it was always painful to talk about him.

“Chris, daddy loved you and me with all of his heart. He would have wanted you to be happy. And, Chris, he loved music. If he could have heard you sing… I know he’s be proud of you, baby. I know he would.”

Chris smiled into the mirror and leaned his head onto Terry’s shoulder. Until recently, Terry and Chris had been like any other siblings, but now they were closer than ever. ‘How could this not be right?’ Chris thought as he enjoyed Terry’s hug.

A sniffle from Margo made them both turn to look at her. She was wiping a tear from her eye. “What?’ she said with mock indignation, “I’m a little hormonal right, now, ok!? And seeing my best friend and her brother having ‘a moment’ made me cry.”

Terry laughed, “You mean your boyfriend and his sister? You really think we look alike?” She took a few steps towards Margo. “Do you want to kiss me, too?”

“Terry!!!” Chris hollered a little louder than he meant to.

That made Margo laugh, too. “Hardly!”

“Really!?” Terry acted disappointed and pointed to her own lower abdomen. “It’s because I don’t have that little thing down there, right?”

“Terry!!!” Chris hollered even louder.

The girls both laughed as Chris turned fifty shades of red. Then Margo leaned into Terry and said, “I got news for you. It’s not that little.”

Chris nearly melted as the girls laughed harder.

Just then there was a knock on the door. When Dr. Casey reentered the room, she found
Chris, Margo and Terry all looking into the mirror. The girls were definitely suppressing grins. “Yep, 34C looks great!” They said.

“Ok,” said the doctor. “I’ll see you at 7:30 Friday morning, then.”
 
Chapter 11
 

Friday came.

At 6:30, Chris was waiting in the lobby with Terry, Margo, Gina, Grace and Denise.

“Nothing to be scared of, sweetheart,” Denise was saying, “I had mine done a few years ago. Best thing I ever did.”

Despite her words of encouragement, the girls all looked very nervous.

“What’s with these gloomy faces, girls? Give her some encouragement. Come on!”

Grace spoke up, “Denise, I think that we’re all just concerned because this is all happening so fast. The sudden success, the changes in our lives… We just didn’t expect all this so suddenly and, well, you know, Chrissie isn’t just Terry’s little sister – in a way, she’s mine and Margo’s and Gina’s too, so… we’re just worried about her. That’s all.”

Chris finally smiled. “Aww, Gracie…” He gave her a big hug. “Thank you.”

Just then a large town car pulled up in front of the hotel doors. “The car’s here.” Terry said and picked up Chris’ gym bag. “Come on, Chrissie. We have to go.”

Chris let go of Grace, then hugged Gina and Denise. “Ok.” He gave them a nervous smile, took Margo’s hand and he, Margo and Terry walked out to the car together.
 
 
To Be Continued...