The Girls of Summer: 4

 

Hunter loves softball camp and he's making lots of new friends, but with new friends comes new complications.

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Author's Note: Thank you for your comments. They mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy where the story takes us.~Clara.
 
This version of The Girls of Summer: 4 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 4
 

The discussion regarding the 'Daughter Dance' took place at breakfast and Hunter was not happy about the whole idea. Bob finally said he'd call Coach Skylar and discuss things with her to see if they could reach some kind of compromise. That at least calmed things down enough to get Hunter to relax a bit and go back to camp.

As things turned out, Bob had a busy day at work and the phone call to the head coach got put on a back burner. He'd have to deal with that the another day.

Hunter, on the other hand, had another great day at softball camp. Speed training had gone really well and he was feeling as if, even after just a couple of days, he was developing more speed and stamina than he'd had before. The constant encouragement from the Coach Maria helped a lot, too.

On the first day of fielding practice, Hunter had played right field and he'd done fine. So on that second afternoon, when the coach called out positions, he expected another outfield assignment. The outfield spots were the first positions called, though, and he wasn't called. As each of the infield positions was filled, he assumed he'd be sitting this scrimmage out - until the last position was called.

"At third base..." Coach Marie shouted. "Short Stuff. Give it a try."

Hunter was thrilled! Infield! That meant more action. Yes!
 

~^~
 

About an hour before the end of the day on the fourth day of camp, Mary Ellen arrived and sat in the bleachers to watch Hunter play. She was surprised to see him at third base, but everything seemed to be going very well for him there. If she had any doubts that he was doing well, those doubts we set aside by the constant shouts of other players and coaches. "Way to go, Short Stuff!" "Alright, Short Stuff!" "Yeah! That's the way to hustle, Short Stuff!"

She could tell that he was in his glory playing with these girls. She could also tell that his game had already improved from the way that he had played the previous week with Wanda.

"Are you Short Stuff's sister?" a woman asked as she approached Mary Ellen.

Mary Ellen laughed. "Yes. I'm Hunter's sister. I'm Mae."

The woman extended her hand. "I'm Skylar. I wonder if I could impose one you to bring this note home to your parents?"

"Of course," Mary Ellen said, happy to help. "I can't believe how well Hunter is fitting in here. Last year he loved the baseball camp, but he... I mean... she... didn't really connect with the other kids. Everyone seems to like her here." She was embarrassed that she hadn't consistently used feminine pronouns to ensure that Hunter's disguise was protected.

Skylar snickered. "It's ok. I run the camp. I know all about Hunter. And, yes... she is fitting in beautifully. Everyone likes her. She's almost like the camp mascot. Even the older girls know who she is and are always supporting her. She's a very unifying presence. I love having her here."

"Really!? Oh, well, thanks!" Mary Ellen smiled, tucking the envelop Skylar had given her into her purse.

They said their goodbyes and Skylar left Mary Ellen to watch the scrimmage.

When it was time to go, Mary Ellen lost track of Hunter for a few moments, but then saw him riding piggy back on an older girl from Group D up the hill from the ball field. The Group D girl was singing a popular song and Hunter was joining in when he knew the words.

"Alright, Short Stuff," the Group D girl said as she arrived at the bleachers, "end of the line."

"Thanks, Lucy!" Hunter giggled as he climbed from her back to the bleachers.

"No problem, Short Stuff. Hey... you did really good today." She gave the little player a fist bump.

Hunter was actually blushing at the compliment. "Thanks," he said, obviously thrilled to get the praise of an older girl. "Your home run was awesome. Congratulations."

The girl, who's name was, obviously, Lucy, smiled and gave Hunter a hug. "Aww, thanks, Short Stuff. See you tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok. See you tomorrow."

Mary Ellen got up and walked down the bleachers to meet her stepbrother. She was thrilled to see him so happy. As the girls were leaving, dozens of them stopped by Hunter to give him a high five or a hug or to say something sweet to him. She couldn't believe how popular he seemed to be with everyone.

"Hey, Short Stuff," she laughed as she reached him. "It looks like you've had a great day!"

"I did," he giggled. "We had a coach from the softball team at UConn come in today. She was amazing. She even picked me to be part of the batting clinic. She taught me SO MUCH! She's coming back later in the camp schedule, too. I can't wait!"

"Great," Mary Ellen said, putting her arms around Hunter's little shoulders. "Hey, where's Wanda?"

"Oh, she's with Sarah. They carried some equipment back inside. She'll be right out."

As if on cue, Wanda and another girl came jogging out of the school gymnasium.

"Is Sarah in your group, too?" Mary Ellen asked.

"Yeah. She's really cool. She plays first base and she's really funny. The coaches call Sarah and Wanda and me 'The Three Musketeers' because we always hang out together. She's like our best friend."

"Really? So you have a new friend?"

Hunter looked around. "I got a lot of new friends. Sarah's probably the best one, though."

"Hey, Short Stuff," the girl named Sarah said high-five-ing Hunter. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gave him a big hug. "Love you guys." She said to Hunter and Wanda.

"Love you, too!" Hunter said.

"See ya!" Wanda said.

"Hey!" Sarah stopped and turned as an idea came to her. "You guys want to do a Zoom tonight? You know - meet up online?"

"Cool! What time?" Wanda asked.

"Seven thirty?" Sarah suggested.

"Awesome! Send me a link and I'll send it to Hunter."

"Will do! Gotta run or Ruthie will be mad! Talk to ya tonight!" Sarah turned and hurried away.

"Alright," Mary Ellen said. "Let's go."

Hunter and Wanda talked nonstop all the way home. They were obviously enjoying not only the camp activities, but all the girls and, most importantly, being with each other. Mae had never seen her brother this happy.

When they walked into the house, Hunter retold the entire day's events to his mother. Once again talking about the coach from UConn and how great she was.

Pretty quickly, Hunter and Wanda had run upstairs to get changed into their swimsuits and, just as Bob and Veronica arrived, Mary Ellen handed her mother the envelope from Skylar. Joyce thanked her daughter for driving once again and Mae went upstairs to get changed.

Joyce opened the envelope as she spoke. "Wait until Hunter tells you about his day. He had the time of his life and I get the impression that he's making friends right and left. I've never seen the boy so hap..." she stopped mid-word and her smile faded as she read the note from Skylar.

"What's that?" Bob asked, concerned.

"It's from the head coach at the camp."

"Oh. Skylar? That's my friend who set this all up," Veronica said to Bob.

"Is everything alright?" Bob asked.

Joyce shook her head. "Well, she starts by saying how much everyone loves Hunter, but... then she wrote: 'I feel that I need to tell you that I had our camp nurse take a look at Hunter because he was so much smaller than the rest of the campers and we wanted to be sure he could handle the rigors of our daily routine. Even our nurse found Hunter to be a charming and funny young person, but after he'd left, my nurse said that she had concerns about his health. His hormonal issues, that is. I feel obliged to tell you that she said that if Hunter were her child, she would get him to an endocrinologist immediately. She feels that ignoring his problem may make it impossible for his body to develop as a male in the future. I have struggled with deciding whether or not I should mention this to you, and of course, all decisions regarding Hunter's health are yours and yours alone, but I trust my nurse's judgement and I just wanted to make you aware of what she said. Regards. Coach Skylar.'"

Joyce looked up at her husband and his colleague, not sure what to say.

"But Dr Clemente said to wait it out, right?" Bob asked.

Joyce's face suddenly dissolved into tears. "Bob... we have to take him to someone. Look at him. This is getting to be too much. I love having another girl to dress and take care of, but... he's a boy, Bob! But, God, I don't know if he's ever going to be a boy again if we ignore this for too long."

Just then, all three teenagers came barreling down the stairs, headed to the pool.

"Hi, daddy!" Mary Ellen said as she passed and when Hunter followed, he said the same thing.

Bob looked at the boy in his one piece swimsuit and he saw Joyce's point.

"Let's get a referral from Dr Clemente to see someone ASAP," Bob said, shaking his head.
 

~^~
 

Camp the next day was going great until mid-afternoon when Coach Marie shouted, "Hey, Short Stuff! Come on in!"

Hunter hustled into the caged off area beside the playing field that was referred to as 'the dugout.'

"Yes, coach?" Hunter said with a smile.

The coach pointed over to the bleachers where Coach Skylar was talking to Hunter's stepmother. "Looks like you're leaving early, today, Short Stuff."

"I am?" Hunter said, surprised. "Nobody said anything about that."

Coach Marie shrugged. "No big deal, Short Stuff. Grab your gear and we'll see you Monday."

Hunter grabbed his square athletic backpack with the two bats sticking out of it and began walking up the hill towards his stepmother. The fact that she'd shown up almost two hours early filled him with concern.

"We don't walk here, Short Stuff," Coach Marie shouted at him.

"Sorry, coach," Hunter called behind him and he ran up the hill to the two women.

"Here's our little star," Coach Skylar smiled. "Did you have a good day, Short Stuff?"

"I did until now," Hunter said. "What's going on, mom?"

"No big deal, sweetie," Joyce said. "You have a doctor's appointment today, that's all."

"I do?" Hunter thought back to that morning. No one had said anything. "I didn't know that."

"I guess we just forgot to tell you," Joyce smiled and shrugged. "Come on. We need to go."

Hunter looked back at the field. "But, mom... it's Friday. I won't see the girls again until Monday and I didn't get to say goodbye."

"I'll say goodbye for you," Coach Skylar smiled. Then she looked at Joyce and said, "I'll bring Wanda to Veronica's office after camp." She returned her gaze to Hunter. "You have a great weekend, Short Stuff. I'll see you on Monday."

"Ok, Coach," he said, but the fact that no one had told him about this appointment and the fact that Coach Skylar was suddenly driving Wanda home combined to fill him with dread.
 

~^~
 

"Can you take off your shirt for me, Hunter?" Dr Raymond asked.

"I'm afraid he's a little sweaty and stinky," Joyce said, as she helped her stepson remove his top.

"Oh? What have you been doing today, Hunter?"

"I came directly from softball camp," Hunter said.

"Softball?" The doctor nodded as he felt around Hunter's neck carefully. "Do you also play baseball?"

"Yeah," the boy said, sounding frightened.

"Actually, until recently, Hunter was all about baseball," Bob said, sounding almost apologetic. The little exam room was very crowded with Bob, Joyce, Hunter, Dr Raymond and a nurse all crammed inside. "This year, though... well... circumstances being what they are... we felt that softball might be the best choice for The Boy."

The doctor nodded, but concentrated on the patient, carefully feeling for problems. Finally, the moment that Hunter was afraid would arrive, did in fact arrive. "Can we take off the sports bra, please?"

Joyce went to help Hunter, but he held his arms tightly to his sides.

"It's ok, baby," she whispered. "The doctor just needs to see you so that he can help you."

Reluctantly, he relaxed his arms and let his stepmother remove the damp sports bra.

Then, the unthinkable happened. The doctor began touching him... there... on his breasts. He wasn't groping him or anything. He was obviously examining him, but it was still shocking and degrading and Hunter hated it.

"It's ok, baby," Joyce whispered. "He's just making sure you're ok."

"I know," Hunter whispered back, "and I'm not a baby. I just don't like it."

"None of us ever do," Joyce rubbed his back to offer comfort.

Finally, the doctor stepped back and looked at Hunter from head to toe one last time. "So..." he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out, "when did you first notice that your breasts were growing?"

Hunter shrugged. "I don't know. I guess around the beginning of the school year."

"And you didn't tell your parents?"

Hunter shook his head.

"When did they get big enough that you felt the need to start binding them down?"

Hunter wanted to crawl under the carpet at this point. "Around... Halloween, I guess."

Th doctor thought for a moment. Then he looked at Joyce. "How bad was the rash when you first saw it?"

"Terrible. His skin was inflamed and there was weeping from a lot of little cuts. He scared the life out me."

The doctor nodded some more, then finally smiled and looked at Hunter. "Ok, young fellow, I think you can get dressed, now. We should have some of the results from the bloodwork by now. Of course, we won't get everything back for a few days - maybe a week for some of it. Claire," he asked the nurse, "could you help Hunter get dressed. Mom and dad, I'd like to chat for a minute in my office across the hall.

"Of course," the nurse smiled at Hunter as the rest of the people left the room. She picked up the sports bra, which was a bit rolled up from being pulled off, and shook it to make the material relax a bit. "Here. Let me help you get this on."

"I can do it myself," Hunter said, feeling very put upon.

"I'm sure you can, but you heard the doctor. If I don't help you, I could lose my job."

Hunter laughed at that and let her help him get his bra and top back on. She had just pulled his tee shirt down and straightened it out when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Nurse Claire said while still looking at Hunter.

"Sorry to bother you," another nurse said, sticking her head into the exam room, "but do you know where the extra large blood pressure cuff is? I need it in exam room seven."

"I think I do," Claire said. "Will you be ok here by yourself for a few minutes?" She asked Hunter.

He shrugged. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'll be right back," she said as she winked at Hunter and touched the tip of his nose before leaving with the other nurse.

As the door was closing, Hunter caught a bit of a conversation coming from across the hall. At first, it was just the fact that it was his stepmother's voice that caught his attention. Then it was her worried tone. Then it was what she said.

"...but you can't just sit there and tell us that there is nothing you can do."

Before the door could close, Hunter grabbed the handle and stopped it from swinging shut. He kept it open about three inches and he focused his hearing towards the doctor's office.

"Please, stay calm, Joyce," the doctor said in a business like voice. "I didn't say that there is nothing we can do. We can start him on male hormones, yes, but there are problems inherent in that. Since his female hormone levels are so high, a drastic introduction of male hormones could shock his system and cause liver or kidney damage, and other problems that we won't be able to remediate later."

"Such as?" Bob asked.

"Well, it's not uncommon that, when male hormones are introduced to a child, the child's body thinks that the patient has suddenly aged to the point of manhood and causes the patient's body to cease its growing. So, the patient's growth ceases immediately. Now, Hunter is only four foot one, so I'd be afraid to introduce that therapy at this point."

"How about surgery?" Bob asked. "You know... to remove the breasts?"

"I can't recommend it," Dr Raymond said. "Besides the obvious risks inherent in any surgical procedures, Hunter's breast growth is far from done. Surgery could be very harmful and still not contribute to solving the problem."

Joyce sounded like she was crying when she asked, "So what do we do? Just continue to treat him like our daughter? What about school? His friends? Our family? His relatives? How is he supposed to handle all of that? He's just a little boy."

"I understand your concerns," the doctor said, "and I know that there are a lot of difficult times ahead, but I want you to remember that this is not a life threatening condition. It is an unfortunate thing to have happened to your son, but I have to say... he seems to be adjusting very well."

"Because he is surrounded by girls who don't know that he's a boy!" Joyce said, speaking as if the doctor was refusing to hear her. "They are accepting him as one of their own, not as a boy with breasts."

"Well," the doctor said in an off handed way, "that is one way to handle this."

"What are you suggesting?" Bob asked.

"Hiding in plain site is not a horrible idea," the doctor said. "He's already doing a great job at that. I think the only thing you really need to do is to get a grip on the pronouns. Call him your daughter and... eventually... you'll get used to it."

"Seriously?" Bob snapped. "Look at all of these degrees on your wall and your only suggestion is 'get used to it?'"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Bob... Joyce... I am trying to be pragmatic at this point. Now, once I get all of his lab work back, I will have a better idea of what we're dealing with. At that point, I will consult with his pediatric doctor and some colleagues and get back to you with any ideas that we come up with..."

"You're not eavesdropping, are you?" Nurse Claire said, surprising Hunter and stepping in front of the small opening in the doorway he'd been maintaining.

"No," he said, pretending to smile. "I just opened the door to see where my mom and dad are."

"They'll be back in minute, sweetheart," Claire said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.
 

~^~
 

It was very quiet on the ride home. Joyce was streaming some old music through her phone and into the car's sound system. Mostly stuff that Hunter knew from riding around with her, but nothing that he had no real connection to. So, he just stared out the window.

"You can put on whatever you'd like," Joyce said.

"What?" Hunter was so lost in thought that he honestly had not heard her.

"The music," Joyce smiled at him. "You can listen to whatever you'd like."

He nodded a little. "Thanks. This is fine."

They drove on for a bit with no more conversation. They stopped for a red light and a group of teenaged girls crossed the street in front of them. Hunter looked at them and how they seemed to not have a care in the world. They were laughing and playfully pushing at each other... just having fun. It didn't seem like that bad a life.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Am I a girl now?"

The question came out of the blue and hit Joyce like a sledge hammer. She stuttered on her reply. "Well... no, sweetheart... not exactly a girl..."

"But not exactly a boy, either. Right?"

When the light turned green, Joyce pulled through the intersection and into a parking lot at a drug store. When the car was in park, she thought for a moment, then said, "Hunter... no matter what happens, you'll always be Hunter. YOU are YOU no matter what. And YOU are a kind, smart, wonderful person. Mary Ellen and dad and I... we'll always be right here beside you. No matter what happens."

"Yeah, but... What am I supposed be, mom? A boy? A girl? I don't really know what I am supposed to be."

Joyce's head slumped a bit. "Hunter... sweetie... I really don't know what to say. This is a temporary thing..."

"That's not what the doctor said."

Joyce turned quickly to look at her stepson. "You heard what the doctor said?"

The boy with the pretty, red, hair cut into a bob appropriate for a sporty little girl nodded.

"You shouldn't have done that, baby."

"He was talking about me, mom, and he said that my breasts are going to get bigger and that means I have to be a girl for... I don't know how long, but for a long time, right? So... am I a girl, then?"

"Baby... sweetheart..." Joyce searched for what to say. "I... I think that your father and I need to sit down and discuss what to do before I say anything."

Hunter whimpered as a tear ran down his face. "So... what? You guys will decide if I'm a boy or a girl and I have no say in it? Is that fair?"

"No, honey..."

"No! None of this is fair, mom! I'm a freak and I just want to be a regular kid. I didn't ask to be this, mom! I didn't ask for these things to just appear on my chest! This isn't fair!"

"I know," Joyce said and nodded. She gave him a moment. Then, "Listen, baby... you're right. This isn't fair, but neither is it fair that some kids go to bed hungry every night - or that some kids don't have families who love and care for them. Hunter, in the grand scheme of things, what's happening to you isn't the worse possible thing in the world. It's just... a problem. And life is all about dealing with problems."

He sniffled a bit. "I know, but when camp is over, I won't have any friends at all. The guys at my school will laugh at me and the girls will know I'm a boy and won't want me to hang out with them. I'll be all alone again, but it'll be worse. Instead of being the little kid, I'll be the little freak that everyone picks on."

Joyce reached over and took his little hand in hers. "Let's not just look at the dark side of this, Hunter. Let's just take baby steps and take every challenge as it comes. Alright? Now, I've known you for twelve years, baby, and I know that even though you are small, you are strong. Even Coach Skylar thinks your a little powerhouse. So, let's not panic. Ok?"

Hunter stifled a little more. "Ok," he said, but he still felt the entire weight of the world pushing down on him.
 

~^~
 

Bob was late getting home.

Joyce figured it was because he had left during the day to go to see the doctor with her and then had to make up some work time, but when Veronica called at five forty five and told her that Bob never came back to the office, she began to worry.

The reason for Veronica's call concerned her, too. Apparently, a girl at softball camp had become very friendly with both Wanda and Hunter. The girl, who's name was Sarah, was having a big party to celebrate her bat mitzvah the following weekend, on Saturday, and when Skylar had brought Wanda back from camp, Wanda had been given two invitations to the party - One for Wanda and one for Hunter. Veronica said that she'd drop off the invitation the next day.

This invitation concerned Joyce because it would involve Hunter dressing well, which meant... Screw it... She'd deal with that on Saturday. She'd dealt with enough already that day. And where the hell was Bob?

She picked up her phone and touched Bob's contact picture. It went to voice mail. She listened to the outgoing message and said, "Hi, Bob... I'm just wondering where you are. I'm a little concerned at this point. It's getting late. Please give me a call. Thanks."

He didn't call.

It was past eight when he stumbled in the front door stinking of beer and things much stronger than that.

"Hi," he mumbled as he came in.

Joyce looked at him and shook her head. "You have got to be kidding me. Seriously, Bob!? Your child has one of the worst days of his life and you choose that day to go get drunk? What the hell is wrong with you?" Thank God the kids were on the patio watching a show through some streaming service on Mary Ellen's computer.

"Yeah, that's the question of the day, isn't it?" Bob slurred. "What's wrong with ME? What's wrong with my genetics that made my son the way he is? Everyone else I know has sons and daughters. Not me! I've got a son that looks like my daughter! I've got a son with tits bigger than my stepdaughter's. I've got a son wearing bras and getting his hair done. So, the big question is - What the hell IS wrong with ME?"

Joyce looked to the sliding door to be sure it was closed. The windows were closed and the air conditioners were running, so there was no way that the kids could have heard Bob's outburst, but he could get louder and the kids could come in at anytime.

When she spoke to Bob, it was in an angry whisper. "Now, you listen to me, Robert. I don't know what got into you, but I have had my hands full with real problems around this house, today, and the last thing I need is a drunk husband wallowing in self pity over things that have nothing to do with him."

"Nothing to do with me?" Bob said in the same angry whisper. "MY SON has nothing to do with me?"

"His condition has nothing to do with you, and you know it. So what if he's different than your friends' sons. He's still YOUR son and it's high-time that you started acting like HIS father. He needs your help right now and instead of being his father, you're off drinking in some dingy bar and feeling sorry for yourself."

Bob wanted so badly to take a self-righteous attitude and put his wife in her place, but... she was right and he knew it. He knew how to be a good parent, and this wasn't how to do it, but... goddamnit, he was upset and needed to deal with it one way or another. He had been having a hard time doing the right thing lately. He hung his head and nodded. Why did she always have to be right, though? "Yeah... Yeah... I know." He shook his head and looked around. He was still drunk, but Joyce's words were sobering him up quickly. He shook his head and headed to the couch.

"Oh, don't you dare sit down down here where the kids can see you," Joyce scolded. "Mary Ellen just got Hunter smiling again. If they walk in here and see you in this state, all of that will be undone."

Bob looked out through the sliding door. From where he stood then, he could see Mary Ellen sitting on the cushioned-love-seat-rocker with Hunter sitting beside her. Mary Ellen's arm was around Hunter's shoulders and they looked very peaceful together, their faces bathed in the glow of the computer screen. He shook his head and headed to the stairs.

"I'm sorry," he said as he reached the bottom step.

Joyce shook her head. "I know, but Bob... we need to be united in helping our son through this. You can't just leave me to deal with everything and run off and get drunk. It's not fair to anyone. Not to me. Not Mae and certainly not to Hunter. You're a better man than that."

"I hope so," he shook his head. "I'm going to shower and watch TV in bed. I'll see you when you come up."
 

~^~
 

"I'm going to keep hitting ground balls to your left," Wanda said from the home-plate/Frisbee out behind Hunter's house. "You're playing third base, so most of the hits you'll need field will be grounders and usually on your left."

"Maybe you should throw some pop-ups in, too," Hunter said from the yard-furniture-seat-cushion he was using as 'third base.'

"Ok, but no line drives," Wanda smiled. "Mae is too lazy to be our fielder today."

Mary Ellen was laying on a lounger chair near the pool. She was wearing a bikini and relaxing, her closed eyes aimed towards the warm summer sun. "Hey!" She said, without moving a muscle. "I've been your chauffeur and your ball-retriever for two weeks. I deserve a morning off."

Wanda smiled and looked at Hunter. "Ready?"

"You know it!" he replied.

Joyce was rinsing out a pitcher at the sink, watching the kids through the window. She filled the pitcher with water and scooped some powdered lemonade mix into the pitcher and began stirring. When it had dissolved, she poured some into two glasses that had some crushed ice in them. She put the pitcher into the refrigerator and brought the two glasses to the kitchen table where Veronica was sitting.

"Are you going to let him go to the bat mitzvah party, then?" Veronica asked.

Joyce sighed. "'Let' him go? I don't know. I think I'll have to make it his decision."

"What are we all so serious about?" Bob asked coming down the stairs looking pretty good for a guy who'd really tied one on the previous night.

Joyce held up the card stock invitation and Bob looked at it. "A bat mitzvah party? Looks like fun. What's the problem?"

"Well, besides the obvious issue that Hunter has no clothing nice enough to wear to an event like that, read the italicized print at the bottom." Joyce said, frustrated that Bob never seemed to take in all the information given to him.

He read aloud. "All guests must adhere to Pine Crest Country Club dress code standards. All male guests must wear suits or sports coats with dress slacks and tie. All female guests must wear dresses or skirts and blouses appropriate for the Country Club's high standard of presentation." He half laughed. "That's nuts. They can't enforce that."

"It's a ritzy private country club, Bob. Of course they can enforce that," Joyce shook her head, feeling too tired for an argument this early in the morning.

"Ok..." Bob shrugged, having solved the problem, "so we just don't tell him he was invited."

"Wanda's going, Bob," Veronica said, feeling Joyce's frustration. "He's bound to find out. You don't think that this girl, Sarah, won't ask Hunter why he's not coming? From what Wanda tells me, the three of them are all joined at the hip all day at camp."

"Ok, we tell him," Bob shrugged, dropping the invitation back onto the table, "but we tell him it's not something we want him to attend."

"Come on, Bob!" Joyce said with more vehemence than she'd intended. "He's a lonely little boy who is suddenly popular. A new friend offers him an invitation to a party and you don't think he's going to want to go? Yesterday, I told him we have to face each challenge as it comes. Meanwhile, you just want to say 'no' to anything that requires him to get girlier. May I remind you that it was your idea to send him to that camp? Now that he's there and happy, you want to create problems. Please! Just! Start! Thinking! About! Hunter's! Feelings!"

Bob sighed. "So... we tell him. He says he wants to go... Then what?"

"Then I take him to get the proper clothes to attend," Joyce said. "And when he comes home, you tell him how nice he looks and act like his father."

There was silence for a solid minute.

"You know," Veronica finally said, breaking the silence, "this might not be a horrible thing. I mean... Bob... don't get me wrong. Your feelings are entire valid and you have every right to be concerned about the impact of Hunter attending an event dressed in feminine clothing, but... think about it... He HAS to attend the Daughter Dance the night before the final games at the ball park, right? So getting him dressed up and having him go out - on his own - to a fancy event like this might help prepare him for the Daughter Dance."

"That had occurred to me, too," Joyce nodded.

Bob swallowed his male-pride and shrugged. "So... we tell him... he says 'yes'...and... we bring him dress shopping... shoe shopping... maybe a trip to the salon... maybe the nail salon... Anything else?"

"Well," Joyce looked at Veronica for support, "he's never worn a dress, so it would make sense to have him wear a dress of skirt around the house for the rest of the week so he doesn't look awkward at the party."

"Once you pick out shoes," Veronica added, "he should wear those around, too. Girl's flats fit differently than boy's shoes and even a kitten heel is going to feel different for him."

"Good point," Joyce nodded.

Bob nodded that he understood the situation, but part of him felt that his wife was enjoying dressing his son up a bit too much and that she was treating him a bit too much like their new daughter.
 

~^~
 

"So, there's no way I could go unless I wear a dress?" Hunter asked as his family and Veronica and Wanda sat around the outside table eating lunch.

"Or a skirt and blouse," Mary Ellen corrected.

Hunter nodded and stared at his hog dog, suddenly not all that hungry. "Are you going?" he asked Wanda.

"Yeah," she laughed, as if the answer were obvious. "To tell you the truth, I don't want to wear a dress any more than you do, but it's just part of the game. Think of it as a uniform."

"I'd rather wear a dress than a stuffy suit coat and tie," Mary Ellen contributed.

"The decision is yours, Hunter," Joyce said. "We won't tell you to go or stay home. This is just another one of those challenges we discussed yesterday."

The boy nodded, then looked at his father. "Dad? What do you want me to do?"

Bob thought of a few things that he felt a good father should say, things about a man being a man, but he reconsidered them and said, "Well, buddy... I want you to do what you want to do. I mean, is this girl a friend of yours?"

"Yeah," Hunter said. "Sarah hangs out with me and Wanda all the time. We do Zoom dates after dinner sometimes - the three of us. She's really cool."

Bob nodded, feeling a little defeated. "Then... I gather you want to go the party?"

"I do, but... a dress?" He shifted in his seat. "I guess that really does make me a girl, doesn't it?"

"Oh, don't be stupid," Wanda laughed, causing everyone to look at her with shock and anger on their faces.

"What?" Wanda laughed, looking at all of them. "A dress doesn't make someone a girl. A dress makes someone look like they're wearing a dress. That's all." She looked at the boy and smiled. "Hunter, when I told you that I don't think of you as a boy any more, I meant that as a compliment. But it's got nothing to do with your hair or your boobies. It's because I'm so comfortable with you. It's like you're just another one of my girlfriends. Honestly, I wish you could be as comfortable with yourself as I am with you."

"Wow," Mary Ellen said with a little laugh. "Listen to the Baby Buddha, here." She touched Wanda's shoulder in a friendly way. "All kidding aside, though, Hunny, if you want to go to the party, go to the party. Yeah, you'll have to wear a skirt or a dress, but so what? I mean, seriously - You have a body that will look cute in those kinds of clothes, everyone at the party will already think you're a girl and... come on, let's be real... you already wear a bra and panties everyday. Those are at least as girly as a dress, right?"

"I guess," Hunter shrugged.

"And think of how cute you looked in that romper you got the other day," Wanda said, sounding helpful.

"Couldn't I wear that?" Hunter asked, causing all the females around him to laugh.

"To a country club!?" Veronica said, still laughing hard. "Absolutely not, Hunter. That's far too casual for a party like this one."

He thought a little longer. "Ok, but can we maybe get a dress that isn't too... you know."

Joyce laughed. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll find something pretty and comfortable that you'll be comfortable wearing."

"Ok," he nodded. "Then I'll go." He looked at Wanda and said, "You won't leave me alone while we're there, will you?"

She made an 'X' over the left side of her chest. "Cross my heart."
 

~^~
 

Sunday afternoon found Joyce, Mary Ellen, Wanda, Veronica and Hunter at a huge mall that was about an hour away from their homes. The two moms had decided that this was the best place to buy dresses, and since both Wanda and Hunter needed something 'nice' to wear to the bat mitzvah party as well as more formal dresses to wear to the Daughter Dance, they hoped that they might be able to buy everything they needed at this location with just one trip.

The stores they were shopping in were much fancier than the usual stores Hunter entered. The Walmarts, Targets, Old Navys, and other places he had gone to with his sister and friend were all kind of the same. These stores were nicely organized and divided into dozens of departments. The stores even smelled nicer - Like perfume.

The biggest difference was the number of saleswomen who were floating around, offering suggestions and assistance. They kind of made hunter's head spin. Every time he turned around, there was another saleswoman asking his mother if she needed any help.

Eventually, one of the saleswomen led them all to an area of dresses which she said would be very appropriate for a bat mitzvah party at a country club. Joyce and Veronica thought that the dresses looked perfect, while Wanda and Mary Ellen got very excited about the youthful fashions.

"This will look beautiful on you," Mary Ellen said, holding a very short, very tight fitting dress up to Wanda's shoulders.

"Under no circumstances," Veronica insisted.

"Aww, mom!" Wanda said, wanting to at least try on the far too revealing dress.

"You're thirteen, Wanda," Veronica laughed, "not thirty. That dress is designed for a much older girl... or a thirteen year old girl with an irresponsible mother."

Joyce thought that was much funnier than the kids did.

"You know, mom," Wanda sulked just a bit, "I'm sure things were different when you were a kid, but nowadays, thirteen year olds don't dress like little girls, like they did back in the fifties when you were thirteen."

"The fifties!?" Veronica looked shocked. "How old do you think I am?"

Wanda just shook her head and went back to looking at dresses.

"I thought you didn't like wearing dresses," Hunter said to Wanda.

"I don't like being told that I HAVE TO wear dresses," Wanda smirked. "Actually, I like looking more grown up and the right dress can do that for me - provided my mom doesn't make me wear a little girl's party dress."

"Do you see anything you like, baby?" Joyce asked Hunter.

"This isn't too bad," he said, pointing to a mannequin that was wearing a navy blue jumper dress with a wide skirt and what looked like an ordinary white tee shirt beneath.

Joyce looked at the dress and smiled. "That would look lovely on you, dear, but it's really not nice enough for this kind of event."

"Besides, that dress would make you look nine years old," Mary Ellen smiled. "Come here and let's find a dress for a twelve year old."

The saleswoman spoke to Joyce and Veronica to be sure that she had guided them to the correct section of the department. "We do have more formal dresses, if that's what you're looking for."

Joyce nodded. "We'll look at those after we've found dresses for them to wear to a young teenager's get together. After we've found something nice for that event, we will need something for them to wear to a formal dance."

The saleswoman nodded. "I see. If I may... the youngest girl seems a bit leery about dressing up. Is this a first time for her?"

Joyce chuckled. "Yeah, it is. I'm afraid my son is experiencing a lot of firsts this summer."

"You son?" the saleswoman asked.

"My son?" Joyce said, feigning confusion when she realized her error. "No, no. I meant 'my daughter.' I'm sorry. I must have been thinking of a few items I need to pick up for my son as well. No. The oldest, Mary Ellen, and the youngest, Hunter, are my daughters."

"And the one with the attitude is mine," Veronica laughed.

The saleswoman smiled at the two women. "Might I make a suggestion for the little one?"

"Of course," Joyce said, anxious for any help.

"Well, I've had my share of tomboys come through this department over the years, and I've found that if we dress them in something simple, soft and comfortable, they're more than happy to wear it. I know from experience how hard it is to pretty-up some of these girls who have spent the first part of their lives acting like boys. I've got three girls and my middle one... that child was always in jeans and sneakers and covered in mud! When it came time for her elementary school commencement ceremony, she insisted that she wasn't going to wear a dress. Of course, I insisted that she was wearing one right back at her. It was a two week battle royal until I brought home a soft, skater dress that she finally agreed to wear. And, honestly, that was a turning point for her. She loved that dress so much that she let me dress her up more and more frequently until she finally was very comfortable in the most feminine of clothing. If you'd like, I could find something like that for... what's the little girl's name?"

"Hunter."

"Hunter?" the saleswoman said. "What a charming name for a little girl."

The woman walked into the next aisle and rummaged through a rack of dresses and finally returned with a white, skater dress with a pattern of hibiscus flowers in a half dozen different, bright colors.

"Fell how soft this is," the saleswoman said, offering the skirt to both Joyce and Veronica.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Veronica said.

"It is," Joyce agreed, "but do you happen to have it in a less flowered pattern?"

"We don't. I'm sorry," the saleswoman said. "If the skater dress is too short for comfort for her, though, I do have it in the same material, but in a swing dress style. Most girls her age, though, prefer the shorter skirt."

It was a lovely dress. Bright and cheerful with a V neck, tiny, very short sleeves, a high waist and a subtly pleated skirt that flared out in a wide, pretty A shape that would definitely give Hunter a suggestion of wider hips. Joyce guessed that the skirt would reach to just about four inches above her son's knees. Girlish rather than womanly and probably cute as heck.

"Mom, look at this one!" Wanda said, excitedly, holding up a formfitting sheath dress that was modest enough, but would show off Wanda's shape a bit more than Veronica would prefer.

Veronica sighed and shook her head. "Alright. Try it on and we'll see."

"Thanks, mom!" Wanda said and then she happily skipped to the changing rooms.

Joyce reached over and touched Mary Ellen's shoulder. "Any luck?" she whispered.

"Not yet," Mae whispered back.

Joyce held up the dress that the saleswoman had picked out. "What do you think?"

Mary Ellen nodded and whispered, "It's perfect."

Joyce looked at the dress once more. "Give me a minute to get into a dressing room, then bring him over. I think he'll like it."

Mary Ellen watched her mother walk to the dressing rooms. She stopped and picked up plain, gray dress on the way and then stopped to speak to the changing room attendant for a second, indicating Mary Ellen and Hunter as they spoke. The attendant nodded and Joyce entered a room.

"Come on, Hunny," Mary Ellen said to the boy.

"Where are we going?"

"Mom wants us in the changing room." She took the boy by his hand and led him to the changing area, where Joyce was waiting.

''Now, sweetheart, I know you're resistant to this, but I think we've found a very nice and comfortable outfit for you. So, step in here and let's try it on without any dramatics. Ok?"

"Alright," Hunter muttered and entered the room.

Joyce had hidden the colorful, skater dress behind the larger, dreary dress she'd picked up along the way. It only took a minute or so to get Hunter stripped to his bra and panties.

"Now, sweetheart," Joyce said as if speaking to a five year old, "we're going to play a little game, now. I want you to close your eyes, then Mae and I will help you into the outfit. I don't want you to open your eyes until I tell you to, though, ok? I want you to try on the clothes and before you see yourself in the outfit, I want to ask you some questions. After I'm done with the questions, I'll tell you to open your eyes. Ok?"

Hunter glanced at the drab, gray dress on the hanger. At least it was plain, but it did look like it was made for a much older person. It also looked kind of big for him, but what did he know about dresses.

"Ok," he concurred and when told to close his eyes, he did so.

He followed directions to raise his arms. He felt some very light and airy material being lowered over him. It was odd, he thought, that the heavy looking material of the dress on the hanger felt this soft. He felt Mary Ellen and his stepmother adjusting the dress on his frame. He flinched a bit when his stepmother adjusted the area around his new breasts. He felt his stepsister raise the zipper up his back along the length of his spine.

"Why is the zipper in the back?" he asked.

"I don't really know," Joyce answered, having never really given it much thought. "It's just the way clothes are made for girls and women."

"There's two layers to the skirt," Mary Ellen said to her mother. "I don't think he'll need a slip."

"We'll see," Joyce shrugged. "If we get this one, I'll hang it in front of the window to see how transparent it is and then make that decision."

When the zipper was secured and the dress hanging properly, Joyce said, "Now, keep your eyes closed and tell me how that feels."

With his eyes still closed, he gave them a little shrug. "Ok, I guess. I mean... the top part is a little tight, but not uncomfortable." He ran his hands along the material below his breasts, "But from here down, I feel kinda... naked."

He heard Mary Ellen giggle a little at that.

"The top isn't too tight, is it?" Joyce asked, fingering the arm opening.

"No. It feels kind of comfortable, actually."

He felt someone touching the skirt of the dress. "It's really soft, isn't it?" Mary Ellen asked.

Hunter ran his fingers over the bodice. "Yeah. Really soft. What's it made of?"

"Just cotton," Joyce said. "Just like your tee shirts. It'll breathe well on a hot day."

"It's a lot softer than a tee shirt," Hunter said, his fingers still feeling the bodice.

"Well, that's because it's made for a girl to wear. Certainly you've noticed that girl's clothes are softer than boy's clothes. It's also made to be a lot more delicate than a tee shirt. So one expects you to be playing third base in this, sweetheart." Joyce laughed.

That made Hunter smile a little and he nodded. "True."

"Feel the skirt," Mary Ellen said, guiding his hand down below the bodice. "It's even softer there."

"Wow," Hunter nodded, his eyes still closed. "That is soft." As he gained a little courage, he reached around his lower parts with both hands. "There's a lot of material down here."

Joyce laughed. "Yes there is, sweetheart. That's the way the dress is designed. The bottom kind of blossoms out to look pretty."

That made sense, but when Hunter considered the dull, gray dress on the hanger, he remember it as being a pretty straight and uninteresting thing. This felt... nice? Fancy? Different, anyway.

"Now, listen to what I'm saying, Hunter," Joyce said, playing with his bobbed, rust-dyed hair. "In a moment, I'm going to let you open your eyes, but before you do, I want you to remember that YOU said you wanted to go to this party and that YOU agreed to dress appropriately - and appropriately means looking like a well dressed, pretty, young lady. Is all of that clear?"

He nodded and pictured the grey dress in his mind's eye. The simple, unadorned garment wasn't too girly, as far as dresses went. In his mind's eye, he pictured exactly how he'd look in the gray dress. "That's clear, mom. I understand."

He felt Mary Ellen turn him a bit, so he'd face the mirror, he assumed. Then, oddly, she hugged him and whispered, "You look perfect in this Hunter. Just perfect."

That was weird.

He heard Joyce take a deep breath and exhale. "Alright, baby... open your eyes."

He did.

And what he saw made no sense. In the reflection, there was mom and Mary Ellen, but in-between was someone he didn't know. A girl with a familiar face, but instead of wearing the dull gray dress, that girl was wearing a white dress with a wide, fairly short skirt, teeny, tiny sleeves that just capped the tops of slender arms and a V neckline the showed a bit of cleavage. Beyond all that, the dress was covered in bright flowers printed in primary colors. The girl looked very pretty in the dress, but also confused - and the it struck him who the girl was.

"Well," Joyce asked, still playing with his hair, "what do you think?"

He just stared at the reflection.

"You look very pretty, Hunny," Mary Ellen added.

"Well?" Joyce asked again.

"Mom..." the boy sputtered. "...I... I... mom... No. No, no, no. I can't wear this!" He was calm and quiet, but the sound of fear dripped from his words.

Joyce seemed surprised. "Well, why not. You said it was soft and comfortable. What's wrong with it."

"Mom! It's covered in roses!" he said, looking a little panicked.

"Those are hibiscus's, Hunter, not roses. They're the same flowers that are on your father's Hawaiian shirts," Joyce corrected, calmly.

"They're still flowers, mom, and these girls at camp... they're not the kind of girls that wear flowery things! They're athletes, mom. They'll laugh at me if I show up in this."

"Oh, don't be silly," Joyce scoffed. "If there are any other girls from camp there, they'd have to dress up, too, and an awful lot of girl's clothing have flowers on them. It's not 'girly,' Hunter, it's just pretty."

"And this!" he said, running his hands over the dress' skirt. "It looks like it's inflated!"

"It's just the style, sweetheart," Joyce half-laughed. "It's very popular right now."

"And, mom... Look!" He pointed to the lower part of the V neck of the bodice. "You can see that I have tits!"

"Alright!" Joyce said, suddenly sounding much more stern. "We have had this discussion way too many times, Hunter. That is a rude and vulgar word and the next time you use it, there will be dire consequences. Do you understand me? It'll start with a good hard slap across that pretty face of yours and end up with loss of privileges - Like an end to that softball camp! Do you understand me?"

The harshness of her voice and the threat of losing the camp he'd come to love snapped Hunter out of his panic. "Yes, ma'am." He calmed down and looked at the carpeted floor.

"Now, look at me," Joyce commanded. When he did, she pointed to the scoop neck of her casual top. "See this? This is called cleavage, Hunter, and girls and women have it, and... at least for the time being... so do you. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Look at your sister." He did and he noticed that her tank top did reveal a little bit of the space between her mammaries as well. "Do you see her cleavage?"

"Yes, ma'am," he sulked.

"Now, look at yourself in the mirror. Yes, you can see a little cleavage - A LITTLE, Hunter. That's all. Enough to make you look just a little bit more grown up. A little more... ladylike, for lack of a better term. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's actually quite attractive. Isn't it?"

Now that he'd calmed down a bit, he realized there was only a little bit of cleavage showing, but... damn... it was still HIS cleavage and no matter what anyone said, it was still embarrassing for him to have it at all, let alone show it off.

"Yes," he finally muttered in order to end the conversation.

"Yes, what?" Joyce asked, not sure what he was agreeing to.

"Yes... it is attractive."

He did look a little defeated, though.

In an effort to brighten the mood, Mary Ellen cleared her throat. "If I could make a suggestion... Why don't we go show Wanda how you look and ask her what she thinks. We could even take a picture and send it to your friend, Sarah, and ask her if it's appropriate for the party. What do you say?"

He nodded and looked at himself once more in the mirror. 'Himself.' That was a laugh.

When they walked out onto the sales floor, Wanda was standing in front of a three panel mirror, looking at herself in a different dress than the one she'd taken into the changing room. This one was also a form fitting shift dress, but it was a rich blue color with sprigs of little yellow flowers printed seemingly at random all about it. What made Hunter stop in his tracks, though, wasn't the fact that Wanda, one of the toughest tomboys he knew, was wearing a flowered dress, it was the way that the dress emphasized her developing, womanly shape. He noticed for the first time that she had impressive, firm breasts, toned arms and the hips and buttocks of a really pretty teenager. In short - his best friend was a lot hotter than he'd thought! Not that he was attracted to her in any sexual way - he was, after all, still only twelve years old and dealing with of a lot of his own issues - but the way the dress showed off these assets made Hunter worry that his development into womanhood might mimic hers in a year or so.

"I love it, mom," Wanda was saying to Veronica as she shifted from side to side in the mirror to check the fit of the dress. "You found the perfect dress!"

"That's why I'm here," Veronica smiled. "You look very pretty in it. So... is this the one for the bat mitzvah?" She asked the question as she turned to see the approach of Hunter and his family. "Oh, my," she said, touching a hand to the flat of her chest above her breasts, "that is just perfect for him."

"Her, mom," Wanda said, stepping past her mother to see her friend more clearly. "Wow!" She smiled. "You don't look anything like that sweaty kid we fall Short Stuff, now, Hunter! You look amazing!"

"It's too girly," he pouted.

"Why?"

"It's got flowers all over it!"

Wanda laughed. "So does mine."

"Yeah, but you're a girl."

"And so are you, as far as anyone else is concerned. Don't be a whiny brat. Come look in the mirror. Let's see how we'll look next Saturday."

She took his hand and tugged him into the area in front of the three panel mirror.

"Look at us, Hunter." Wanda was bubbling with excitement. "We are F-ing hot!"

Even though she'd not said the actual word, she received a warning about her language from her mother.

"You're hot," Hunter said, looking into the mirror. "I look like a little girl."

"With cassabas like those?" the older girl teased. "Hardly!"

"Alright, alright, alright!" Veronica said, frustrated, as usual, by her daughter's vocabulary.

Wanda just smiled. "Trust me, Hunter... you look hot. If you were a boy and you saw a girl who looked like you, you'd turn to your friend and say, 'She's hot.' Trust me."

"Yeah... if I was a boy..."

"Mae had an idea in the dressing room," Joyce said and then indicated to Mary Ellen to take over.

"Yeah, I thought we could take a picture on your phone, Wanda, and send it to your friend, Sarah, to see if she thought that Hunter's dress was, you know, appropriate for the party."

"That's a great idea!" Wanda said, ecstatic. She grabbed her phone from her purse, which hung from her mother's shoulder, and handed it to Mary Ellen. "Take it with me in it too. I'd like her opinion as well."

Mary Ellen took the photo and handed the phone back to Wanda, who checked the photo, then sent it in a text message to their friend Sarah with this attached, 'YO, BABE! HUNTER AND I ARE DRESS SHOPPING FOR YOUR PARTY. NEED YOUR INPUT. ARE THESE DRESSES COOL?'

It took less than a minute for a response. 'COOL? THOSE DRESSES ARE ON FIRE! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THAT BODY OF YOURS, BABE? SO HOT! TELL HUNTER HER DRESS REMINDS ME OF RUTHIE'S HANG ON. I'LL SEND A PIC.'

Wanda laughed at the text and said, "Sarah says they're good." She showed the text to Hunter. A moment later her text alert chimed. She looked at her phone.

'HERE'S A PIC OF BIG-SISTER'S DRESS. TELL HUNTER SHE LOOKS BETTER IN HERS THAT RUTHIE DOES, THOUGH. HAHAHA.'

The dress in the picture was similar to Hunters in that it was white with flowers on it, but these flowers really were roses and the skirt on the dress looked like it would sit a bit lower on Ruthie's legs.

"Ask her if mine is too short," Hunter said, looking at the picture.

Wanda typed the question in and the answer came back, 'NO WAY! RUTHIE HAS TO WEAR HERS TO TEMPLE AND ALL THAT. SHE'S BEEN PISSY ABOUT HOW LONG IT IS ALL WEEK. HUNTER'S IS PERFECT.'

Wanda read everyone the response.

"Well?" Joyce said, crossing her arms, "You said that it's soft and comfortable and all your friends think you look great in it? Can we move on to the more formal dresses for the Daughter Dance, now? We still have shoes to get as well."

Hunter finally shrugged. "I guess."

The search for the perfect dress for the more formal dance was more difficult, though. Joyce had hoped that, having been successful in finding the perfect party dress for her stepson, he might be more open to the styles available for formal dresses designed for twelve year olds.

He wasn't.

He was horrified by the lace covered confections, or the silky material, or the fit and flare concepts that had stretchy tops that emphasized his breasts, or the long skirts that seemed impossible to move in.

He just hated them all.

Joyce was particularly disappointed in his reaction to a dark purple fit and flare dress that she loved. The top was a stretchy, lacy mesh with a very modest scoop neckline. It was sleeveless and had a very short, flared skirt that showed off his toned legs beautifully. She just knew that if she could get him to wear that dress with a pair of nice, low heels, he would look stunning.

But he was adamant and she knew she couldn't push him any harder that day.

When Wanda had found a dress, in that same fit and flare style, that Joyce liked a lot, they decided that a formal dress for Hunter that day was a lost cause.

"Alright," Joyce said with a defeated sigh. "Mae, take your... sister... to the shoe department. I'll be right along. I just want to thank the saleswoman for being so helpful."

"Ok," Mary Ellen agreed and she left the department with Hunter, Wanda and Veronica.

"I'm sorry she didn't find anything she liked," the saleswoman said with a sympathetic smile.

"Oh, I think she did," Joyce said, glancing at the pile of clothing on the changing room rack, "she's just too stubborn to admit it."

Joyce moved the hangers a bit and pulled out that adorable purple dress. "Did you like this on Hunter?" she asked the saleswoman.

"I thought it was perfect."

"Me too." Joyce shook her head. "Ring it up for me, please. I'll pay for it now and pick it up tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am," the saleswoman said with a smile.
 
 
To Be Continued...