Michelle and Dave get married. Its a tense and worrisome day for both of them. Michelle spends most of the ceremony wondering how she got her self into the predicament.   Mike versus Michelle: Part 15 Wedding Bells By Sharon Parsons

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Dave and I were married a month after Dana was buried. Considering the circumstances, the event was bitter-sweet to say the least. We had a July wedding, so Cam and Tony were out of school for the summer. That meant we'd be starting our marriage with a full house. I wouldn't have the benefit of having the house to myself for eight hours a day.

I wasn't concerned about Cam and Tony getting under my feet or in my way. I just thought I'd need a little more "me" time to make the transition to wife and mother. I knew how to cook and clean, so that wasn't the problem. My problem was an emotional one and I wondered if I was up to the task.

Most newlyweds, even those with kids, honeymoon for at least a week by themselves. But Dave and I had no such plans because we weren't romantically involved. That's not to say we had ruled romance out of our future. Anything was possible, but we had both decided beforehand that sex wouldn't be a prerequisite for our marriage.

The only thing we had agreed upon was that we'd live together as a family and he and I would share the same bed. Dana didn't match us up because she wanted us to have sex. She did it because she wanted us both to have a special friend in our lives. She didn't want either of us to be lonely or grow old alone.

****

Weddings are supposed to be a happy thing, but ours was solemn and almost contractual, despite my pretty white wedding dress. The dress of course had been my mothers and I fulfilled a dream of hers by wearing it.

We had a traditional wedding, albeit a small one. There were only 50 guests in attendance, consisting of family, close friends, and good neighbors. Both sets of my grandparents had come to see me walk down the aisle in my mother's dress to take a 40 year old man as my lawful and wedded husband.

Though nobody said anything about it, I suspected our guest's emotions were divided by gender. The women seemed sentimental and hopeful while the men harbored looks of revulsion. Of course it might have been my imagination. Perhaps I was paranoid, but that was the feeling I got as I studied the faces of well-wishers and gawkers sitting in the church pews.

I wish I could tell you that my wedding and the days leading up to it were like a dream come true for me, but it wasn't that way. I remember it as being one big scary blur. My wedding felt like it was happening to someone else, and in a way it kind of was.

I was living my life as Michelle but I hadn't separated myself from Mike. I looked like a woman on the outside but on the inside I was still all boy. And boys don't marry their best friend's fathers, do they?

Of course its a little unfair to call Cam my best friend because we were best friends in another life. But the memories were still there and I clung to them. I think we both did. Maybe everyone did.

Even though we'd buried Dana a month earlier, it felt like she was standing next to me as an invisible maid of honor. But it was my mom, not Dana, standing beside me as I took my vows. Dad gave me away and Cam stood as his father's best man. Tony and Gary were groomsmen.

Because same-sex marriage was legal in Connecticut, our marriage would be legal and binding. It wasn't a game or a hoax. The pastor in charge of our ceremony was ready and within his rights to pronounce us husband and wife. From that day forward, I'd be known as Mrs. Michelle Halsteader.

I was going to be a wife! I was going to be a stepmother! I was going to go crazy! I wanted to rip my dress off and shout that it was over. I'd tell them all that there'd be no wedding today or any other day. But I remained quiet and respectful as the pastor spoke and I remembered the promise I'd made to Dana Halsteader.

It may sound like a shotgun wedding, but it wasn't. No one was forcing me to marry Mr. Halsteader.

I was a lot of things that day. I was scared, and ashamed, and embarrassed, but I was also willing. Dr. Martha was right about marriage validating my urges. At least I hoped she was right.

What is a woman supposed to think about as she stands in front of a church preparing her self to take a man for her husband?

She's supposed to think about how much she loves the man and how happy they'll be together. But I wasn't thinking about that.

A million thoughts crowed my mind as the pastor spoke of love and commitment. What about sex? I knew Dave didn't expect it from me any time soon, but would he ever? And what about my feelings? Did I want to lead a life of celibacy? What if someday I wanted sex but Dave didn't?

I didn't have a rule book to refer to. We were making it up as we went along.

There were so many other things to think about it and they were all pushing and shoving their way to the front of my head. How had I gotten myself into this?

My life, or at the least the several years of it, flashed across my mind as the pastor spoke.

Five years earlier, at the tender age of 12, my mother had walked in on me while I was wearing one of her nightgowns and pretending to smoke. That moment had been wrought with fear, shame, and humiliation.

I wasn't supposed to be the kind of boy that played dress-up in his mother's clothes. I was supposed to be a good boy. Good boys don't play with matches or smoke cigarettes. They play baseball and soccer and kiss girls.

Getting caught that day changed my whole life. Would this have happened if that hadn't have happened? Maybe I would have gotten caught some other day. Or maybe I would've gotten better at hiding it if I'd had more time to learn.

I looked down at my dress. It was so pretty. Look at me now, I thought. Look at how far I've come since that day in my parent's room. Isn't this what I've always wanted? Isn't it?

I wanted to cry, if not for shame, then for joy. I didn't know which.

It occurred to me that I had given up my manhood without a fight, not to even mention my lost childhood. I'd done what everyone said to do. Mom said it was right and Dr. Martha said it was right, and of course Dana had said it was right. Everyone had told me that I needed to be a woman, and I had listened to them because it felt good.

Yes, it felt good. It felt good then and it feels good now. But what's the meaning of good? Good is excited! Good is exhilarating!

Standing at the alter with Dave, I was scared to death about what the future would hold, but I still had an erection. Thank God it wasn't noticeable or I would have died from humiliation.

I could hear the voices in my head. Look at the little sissy boy getting married in his mother's dress. His father must be so proud of him. Is that his little willy poking out?

I wanted to run away and scream but I stood my ground quietly as the pastor gave me what I always wanted. And later that night in our honeymoon bed, maybe Dave would give me what I always wanted. But did I really want it?

What did I want? I wanted a cigarette! I needed one! God damn stupid nicotine addict! My mother warned me not to start. She begged me not to start. But did I listen to her? Hell no! I wanted to be like just like her. Well look at me now! I did it. In a couple of minutes I'd be another married woman rooting around her purse for a pack of cigarettes. But I'd look so sexy and so in charge of my life. Wasn't that worth it?

I prayed a worthless and silent prayer to God, asking to be a boy again. Give me a second chance. I'll try to be a better boy.

And the pastor asked Dave if he took me, Michelle, as his lawful and wedded wife. Goosebumps sprang up on my arms as he looked at me and then at the pastor.

"I do," said Dave.

"And do you, Michelle, take David to be your lawful and wedded husband, to love honor and cherish until death do you part?"

I took a deep breath and held it as I looked back and forth between Dave and my mother. Mom was smiling and it looked so warm and sincere. I could tell she was genuinely proud and happy for me.

I thought about what Dana said about Dave and I learning to love each other. Wasn't that better than playing dress-up and growing old alone?

My future was uncertain and that was scary. All these questions and so many more raced through my head at the same time. You'd think there would have been a long awkward pause between the pastor's question and my answer, but there wasn't.

I said yes. I said I do.

My legs went weak as the pastor said, "By the power vested in me by the state of Connecticut, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Dave you may now kiss your bride."

I saw Dave smile for the first time since Dana died, as he lifted my veil and pressed his lips against mine. My husband had kissed me for the first time! My husband!

The music played and everyone stood as David took my arm and led me back up the aisle. I scanned the expressions in the crowd as we made our way through. Everyone looked so approving, joyful and sincerely happy for us.

The photographer met us in the lobby and hurried us outside so he could take some pictures while the crowd let out.

I begged the photographer for mercy, saying I needed a cigarette before doing another thing. The photographer asked me to hurry and Dave who had quit smoking, patted his empty shirt pocket.

Dave pointed toward the church. "There's your mom," he said. "You can bum a smoke from her." He called her over.

Mom told me how beautiful the ceremony was as she removed two cigarettes from her case and handed one to me.

As badly as I needed that cigarette, I was still self conscious about smoking in front of Dave now that he was a non-smoker. I asked if he minded.

He shook his head no and took the lighter from my mother and lit my cigarette for me. It was the first time he'd done that since we were at the cabin two years earlier. I heard a camera shutter click and caught a flash from the corner of my eye.

The photographer quickly apologized, saying that he always took some candids and I wasn't under any obligation to buy them if I didn't like them. I was too absorbed in nicotine withdrawal and the excitement from the wedding to understand what he meant. His explanation went right over my head. I mention it now because that was my favorite wedding picture.

Dave had the most loving look on his face as he lit my cigarette as my mother stood in the background smiling. The expression on my face was priceless, and I've spent hours looking at it while wondering what was going through my mind at that exact second. Was I: nervous, excited, relieved...? I don't know, but I love that photo. When I look at it, I see a woman.

*****

I was feeling more at ease when the reception rolled around. We had it at my house. Actually we had it at my parents house because technically speaking, I didn't live there any more.

My parents hired a DJ, and he was actually very good. I think the highlight of my reception was the father/daughter dance. It was the first and only time I've ever slow danced with my dad. He whispered in my ear that he was proud of me, but I had to wonder. My father is a great guy though. It takes a special man to let his son become a woman.

I suspect you can gather from how I'm talking about it that my wedding day wasn't my proudest moment. Regardless, people came up to me all that night and told me how proud of me they were.

I'd been dressing as a female for five years, but it still felt new to me, like I was doing something wrong. I felt the same about smoking, like I shouldn't be doing it; not because it was bad for my health, but because it was taboo. Of course that's what made it so exciting for me. I shouldn't have been doing the the things I was doing but I was doing them any way, and I was having a lot of fun.

Midway through the reception, I was running on all four cylinders. I felt like a princess at the ball in my long white wedding dress. I floated around the room making chit-chat with all my guests. I was having so much fun in girl mode that I had forgotten all about my new husband.

Except for his dance with me, Dave spent most of the reception hiding out in the corner with Cam, and Gary, and Tony. All the guests at our wedding knew the truth about me. And that meant they knew the truth about Dave. Everyone at the reception knew Dave had married a 17 year old boy.

I was dog tired by the time the DJ put an end to it by having the guests go outside and line up on the sides of the driveway. I hugged my mom and kissed my dad on the cheek before sprinting down the driveway with Dave while our guests pelted us with bird seed.

Cam and Tony had decided to spend the night at my parents so Dave and I walked into an empty house. The first thing we did was change out of our clothes. Dave changed first since it would take him less time. He walked out into the living room wearing a pair gym shorts and a tee-shirt.

I changed out of my wedding dress and took off my make-up while Dave watched TV in the living room.

I had a million questions about things Dave and I had never discussed. Would it be okay for me to smoke in the house since Dana did, and he did too before he quit. What about in the bedroom? I didn't want to infringe upon his rights to clean air, but I was heavily addicted and didn't like the idea of having to outside every time I needed a cigarette.

What about the dressing issue? Would we ever get to the point where we felt comfortable changing clothes in front of each other like my parents did?

What side of the bed am I supposed to sleep on? Back at my parent's house, I slept on a single bed. Dave and Dana had a queen sized bed. No. Dave and I have a queen size bed. I was his wife now- not Dana. Her husband was mine. Her children were mine. Even her clothes were mine now. This is mine and Dave's house, I thought as I looked around the bedroom.

After changing into a long nightgown, I picked up my cigarette case and took a seat beside Dave in the living room.

"We did it," he said. "We got married."

"I know," I said as I opened up my cigarette case. "Do I need to go outside?"

Dave shook his head no. "I wish you'd quit, not because it bothers me, but for your health. But this is your house now too. You can smoke in the house."

I thanked him and lit my cigarette. "How were you able to quit? It must have been so hard with Dana still smoking."

Dave blushed and said, "It was hard. As a matter of fact it was too hard. I started back after Dana's funeral. I went to bed and saw her case sitting on the nightstand. I don't know if I did it because I really wanted it or because I missed her so much. Any way, I'm hooked again. I just haven't wanted to tell the boys. I'm afraid they'll be disappointed in me."

"But I haven't seen you do it."

"I'm sneaky like that," said Dave. "I thought I could quit again before anyone found out I had started back."

"Do you want one now?" I asked as I opened my case.

Dave waved it away with his hand. "No thanks. I don't smoke girly cigarettes. I've got a pack of Winstons in my sock drawer. I'll get one when we go to bed."

"Okay," I said as I looked down at the slim cigarette between my finger. "So you think these are girly cigarettes?"

Well yeah, they're Virginia Slims, but I'm not making fun of them or you. I understand why you smoke them."

"I doubt that," I said as I laughed and shook my head.

"I think you'd be surprised if you knew how much I know about you. You talked a lot to Dana and Dana talked a lot to me. She said it makes you feel womanly. And I know all about little boys wanting to be like their fathers and about little girls wanting to be like their mothers."

It was my turn to blush.

"Don't be embarrassed," he said. "To each his own and you've earned the right to be happy with yourself. You are happy, aren't you?"

I grinned as I exhaled while looking at the cigarette in my hand and the wedding ring on my finger. "Yes," I said. "I'm very happy and I feel like the luckiest woman in the world right now."

Dave laughed. "I wonder if you'll feel so happy and lucky after the boys have been home for a couple days."

"What? You don't think I can handle it?"

"Its just a lot of work running household by yourself. You did a great job helping Dana out while she was sick. But you were a visitor then- more like a guest. I think the boys were probably on their best behavior then. I just think they can get a little rambunctious and I'm afraid they'll try to walk over you if they think they can get away with it. You know, like when a substitute fills in for the teacher. I know you remember what that was like."

"I don't get it. Are you saying I need to be mean to them?"

"Of course not. I'm just saying they need to respect you, especially Cam. You're his stepmother now. He's still got another year left of high school, and if you're not careful, he'll make our lives a living hell until he goes off to college."

"I guess you're right," I said as I took a puff from my cigarette and sat back against the couch.

I should have been scared by Dave's warning, but I wasn't. As a matter of fact, I was aroused and felt my penis stiffen under my gown as I thought about being Cam's stepmother. A feeling of feminine power washed over me as I finished my cigarette and put it out in the ashtray.

"What are they supposed to call me," I asked?

"Well, since you're not their mother, I expect they'll probably call you Michelle. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," I said, hoping he didn't see my disappointment.

"I don't know about you," said Dave, "but I'm getting tired. Are you ready to go to bed?"

"What side of the bed do you usually sleep on?" I asked as we got up from the couch and moved to the bedroom.

He said he usually slept on the left side and I told him that was perfect, because it was.

As I got into my side of the bed and pulled the sheets over me, Dave stripped out of his tee-shirt and shorts. I couldn't help but stare at his naked body as he got into bed beside me.

He looked at me apologetically and said, "Dana didn't tell you I sleep in the nude, did she?"

I shook my head no.

"I can put my gym shorts back on if its going to be a problem. I gotta get up anyway because I forgot my cigarettes."

"That's okay. Its not a problem," I said as I watched him get out of bed and walk to his dresser. Oh my God, I thought. So that's what a 40 year old naked man looks like. I wasn't impressed. I was revolted. And it wasn't because he had an ugly body or anything like that. I felt that way because I felt that way. Naked men are gross. And then a crazy thing happened. My penis started stiffening. It really freaked me out so I pulled the sheets up closer to my breasts.

"I'm still going to try to quit," he said as he came back to bed with his Winstons. "Just not tonight."

"Okay," I said as I took a cigarette from case and placed it between my lips.

Before I could get my lighter out, Dave flicked his.

"Thank you," I said as I cupped his hand with mine and dipped the tip of my cigarette into the flame.

"You're welcome," he said as he lit his own cigarette.

I did my best to keep it to myself, but I was extremely aroused. The boy in me might have been disgusted by the situation but the woman in me was alive. As a boy I'd never appreciated the sight of another boy smoking, but Dave wasn't a boy. He was a man, and more importantly, he was my husband! As a woman, I rather liked the idea of being married to a man that smokes, and that disturbed me. Everything about those thoughts was wrong. What am I thinking? This is crazy.

"Is anything wrong," asked Dave? "You're looking at me funny."

His question startled me. Had I really been staring? I recovered quickly and told him everything was fine.

"So you're still okay with everything so far," he asked?

I assured him I was okay. "Its actually really neat being here with you like this. Did you ever think in a million years that we'd be married some day?"

Dave laughed. "If I had, they would have locked me up and thrown away the key. I think you're a wonderful person, but this is still very strange to me."

"Me too," I said. "But not in a bad way."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said as he put his cigarette out and turned off his light. "Good night Mrs. Halsteader," he said as he kissed me on the cheek.

"Good night to you too Mr. Halsteader," I said as put out my cigarette and turned off the light.

Dave laughed as he turned on his side and faced me. "Call me Dave," he said. "Mr. Halsteader sounds too much like old times."

I told him I knew what he meant. "Goodnight Dave."

"Goodnight Michelle."

I closed my eyes but I didn't go to sleep right away. Even though I'd gotten aroused in bed, I was glad Dave didn't try anything with me. Physically I was probably ready, because I'd been practicing with my dildo. But emotionally, I hadn't yet come to terms with the idea of a man putting his penis in my body.

It truly had been an incredible day and I wished I'd taken the time to enjoy it more. If only I'd been more relaxed.

As I laid in bed, I decided that getting married to Dave was a good thing and I said a silent prayer to Dana in thanks.

I had known from the day I got my breast implants that I'd live the rest of my life as a woman, but getting married to Dave solidified it for me. This is my life now, I thought, for better or worse. And to me, it was for the better. I was so excited about starting my new life as a married woman!

I was excited but I was also incredibly naive. But can you blame me? I was only 17- just a stupid kid, and a boy at that. And then all of that changed. I was more than a cross dresser now. Being married to Dave, having step-children, and being a smoker made me feel so grown-up and respectable.

I think its every kids dream to be a grown-up. I say that because I doubt many 17 year olds dream about being ten or having a curfew? Now that I was a married woman, no one was going to tell me when it was time to go to bed or that I couldn't smoke, or that I had to eat vegetables. I'd be the one making the rules from now on.

Of course being a woman, wife, and mother, wasn't as glamorous and fun as I thought it would be. I'd be in for a rude awakening. But thats another story for another day.

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