Part 15

“This purse is just great, Lexie!”

“Umm, I like it too. Convenient, you can carry it on your shoulder. And, umm, I like these styles…”

“I was wondering when you will dare to show some femininity,” Lu smiled. “What you will say, Mommy?”

“That those boots are just perfect with the purse. Lexie obviously has excellent taste.”

“Umm, I tried to match them. The same white as the bag…” What did Lucia called it? Lilly white? Vanilla white? It was some flower…

Actually, she had matched them. I had guessed to bring it to her shop in Friday after work and to ask her what goes best with it. The boots fit my legs like gloves, up to just below the knee. I was afraid that their heels would be too high for me to walk on, and will be too thin to carry my weight. However, walking on them turned out easy, the boots stabilized the ankle well, and heels proved to be strong – even catching one badly in a crack on the sidewalk didn’t break it. The cost was a small fortune, but the boots were worth it.

And they indeed looked great on me. Couldn’t take my eyes off the mirror in the dressing room. I looked like a goddess of beauty and elegance, and at the same time as an embodiment of sexiness. Lucia had to ask if it was okay to return me to the reality.

At home, I had never before paid attention that the bathroom door has a full-height mirror on, but now loved it. Especially while seeing how I look in boots only. I felt tempted to not remove the bodysuit for this weekend…

“Do not be embarrassed, Lexie. You absolutely deserve to look beautiful. Especially for Carlo, right?”

“Yes, Mommy…” I had surely blushed from the memory of the Friday evening. Yes, it was so embarrassing, but I looked so sexy!

Oh well, Lexie did, not me. But Lexie was me and nobody else, right? So I could say that I looked good.

As Lexie, that is. I sure as hell didn’t want to be a girl, but if I was forced to be one, why not benefit from that a little? What red-blooded man, if forced to look like inhumanly beautiful and sexy girl, wouldn’t try and steal a look? Sure, I stole more like a few hours of looks, but most men would likely steal more. They likely would even not remove the bodysuit for the weekend…

I checked my reflection on the mirror in the dressing room. The boots added sexiness and grace to the work uniform too. But well, I looked attractive enough without them too, no sense to worry about that.

As if I hadn’t already a huge problem with that. What to do with the poor Carlo? How to extricate myself from this situation without hurting him? He sure as hell didn’t deserve that…

I glanced inside the purse, to check if the remote is there. It would be a good idea to cover it with something, or else someone curious might wonder why a girl carries a remote in her purse. What a purse should contain? I had never been interested in Sandra’s. A box with make-up? A menstrual pad? Tampons? Wipes for removing make-up? A small mirror? I made a note to myself to buy some things during the lunch break.

During the usual lesson on scripting, I noticed several times how women look at me and then exchange glances. After the lesson, I excused myself to the restroom, grabbed the empty bottle and put it against the wall.

“– turning into a seductress. No doubt she understands very well how valuable Carlo is.” Mommy was saying.

“And has an excellent idea what makes her look attractive. The blue dress goes so well with the boots and the purse! Hope the men are able to control themselves around her.”

“Hope Carlo is able too. That’s not easy for men.” There was distinctive bitterness in the voice of Grace.

“H-h-hope they m-marry soon. T-they both d-d-deserve one another. A p-perfect couple.”

“I think it would be soon. The tomboy from the mountain is gone, here is a girl that knows what she is, and what and who she wants. Did you noticed how sexy these boots make her walk from behind? I don’t doubt that she deliberately chose them for that.”

What?! These boots make me move my ass sexily while I walk?!… Lucia, what did you did?!

What had to be expected. She sees that I look more comfortable and assumes that I have overcome the shock from having to run away from my boyfriend. So, she tries to help me find a new one. The best possible.

Not knowing that I have already found him and my problem is how to lose him.

“You are right. Remember how scared and coy she was the first time she came here? She is overcoming the lack of a mother amazingly quickly. And I’m a little bit proud – it is us who helped her find self-confidence. And to shed the tomboy mentality and facade that the male environment gave her, to accept being a beautiful real woman…”

You didn’t help much, Grace. In addition to not having a fucking clue what I am.

But… why the other women – that is, the women – see me as already a confident and real woman instead of a tomboy? Does it mean that I really lose being male on the inside? That I not only look female, but somehow am female, as a person?

Since when I was coming to work almost always in a dress and heels? A month? I hadn’t even noticed when that crept in. And how. Had started it only to appear less suspicious to the women, barely tolerated it, but with the time stopped noticing it. Accepted it. The boots were already the fourth pair of high heels I had – I hadn’t paid any attention when exactly I bought two more pairs. And when I accepted wearing the first pair, to start with.

(Sure it helped a problem of mine. I was always a bit self-conscious about being short, and the bodysuit shortened me further by a few centimeters. Sure, as a girl I still was average height instead of short, but the heels were a very welcome addition to that. But still, it looked to me that I had accepted them too easily.)

And when I accumulated already a good dozen of panties and bra, separate and in sets. Why so many? They practically never got soiled, obviously the bodysuit didn’t shed off anywhere as much as a living body…

That, while buying an official dress for the birthday of The Boss, I was choosing a dress that does not reveal me too much. Instead of grumbling internally that it is a dress, for God’s sake! An official one – the most feminine clothing that exists! All I cared was to not reveal too much of my curves – curves that weren’t mine, to start with!… Not of the real me anyway! Why worry about that at all?…

… Because Lexie had become a me, too. Not only she was nobody other than me – I was her too. Behaving like a girl – well, to a degree – was already coming to me naturally while wearing the bodysuit. Yes, maintaining the masquerade required that, but it had become a part of me too.

… Suppose I lose the remote and have to spend the rest of my life as Lexie – how I would accept that?… I wouldn’t be happy at all. Would rage for a long time, might even cry. Would grieve for years. Would not feel happy, despite the perfectness of being Lexie. But wouldn’t even think of suicide. While during my first few days as Lexie, I surely would consider it. I wouldn’t be her and wouldn’t be able to endure this. Now it would be a bit hard on me, but I already was part her.

I was really a man. I had no doubt in that at all. I didn’t want a single bit to be a woman… But a man that, if really needed, would be able to be a woman. Unlike before becoming Lexie.

And Lexie was a better human than Damiano. Wiser about people – she had seen through the old gossip in Aunt Lauretta, and found the sufferer in her. I had already noticed that during the weekends, while being myself, I was not as careful, polite and nice to the others around as I was as Lexie.

And, at the same time, I was no less decisive, caring for the others and ready to overcome hardships as Lexie. Maybe even more than as Damiano.

As Lexie I was much more than as Damiano. And stronger on the inside, too. Closer to my ideal of a man than I was as myself.

Oh, the irony – to be more a man as a woman than as a man…

Well, Carlo was light years ahead of me at being a man. But he was absolutely unique, I would never be a match of him. I wondered – how he grew up to be such a man? Had a wise and strong father to learn from and emulate? Surely…

But I also had Uncle Franko, the strongest man to ever walk this Earth, and hadn’t learned enough from him. I had turned out to be just a petty opportunist. As Lexie I was ten times the man I was as Damiano. And still a thousand times less than Carlo. I had believed that as a mountain rescuer I was the paragon of a man. I had turned out to be a caricature of a man… Surely Carlo was just born to be a true man. Would be one no matter the environment he grew in. What a guy…

But I could learn. And would learn. As Damiano or Lexie, I would learn to be a true man too…

Yes, I still had practically no savings and it could take me a long time to find a work again… Maybe I should risk and still continue with the masquerade. But watch out carefully for starting to turn into a woman on the inside. And run away if that progresses. Whatever anything, I was going to stay a man, even if only on the inside…

A knock on the door suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I quickly hid the bottle and returned to The Boudoir.

* * *

“Excuse me, ladies, is Grace still here?”

The voice of The Boss took me out of the concentration upon a complex processing script. The clock in the desk corner showed one minute to the end of the working time. I hadn’t noticed the time passing.

“She had to urgently hurry out about twenty minutes ago. Something happened,” explained Mommy.

She was covering Grace, as a good colleague. Well, Grace was usually fifteen to twenty minutes late, and almost every day was leaving about twenty minutes earlier, but worked impressively fast and was very productive. Yes, I didn’t like her, but she deserved being covered for.

“But… Oh, I thought it is still half past five! Don’t worry, Grace has my permission to come late or leave early when she needs. I just wanted to ask her to deliver en route a batch of documents to our accounting company, they are close to her home.”

Could I help Grace too? If the task is done, The Boss wouldn’t dwell on it, would forget that she has gone out early…

“I am going after work in that direction too. Could you please give me the exact address?”

“Pirelli and Pirelli Accountants, Via Tagliamento 15. This is in Quinto Stampi. Do you know this district?”

“Yes.” I didn’t, but would look it up on the map.

“Okay, here are the documents.” He handled me a big envelope. “Thank you very much, Lexie!”

“It is a pleasure.”

Finding the place was easy. After handling the envelope to the receptionist, I decided to enjoy the evening, walking around. The boots turned out surprisingly comfortable, not tiring or hurting my feet at all. Passed along a small park, happily ignoring a couple of wolf-whistles, walked a bit on a street, passed a bridge over Lambro Meridionale. The weather was nice, the sun was slowly setting down. Life was good.

Even if it is a life in a dress and heels…

Suddenly, a familiar voice woke me out of the bliss:

“Gianni, NO! Not again! You…!”

The voice of Grace.

There she was, on the sidewalk about twenty meters ahead, face twisted with emotion. Before her stood a boy about fifteen or sixteen. Two full grocery bags lied on the ground next to him. His build was thick and heavy, unlike the tall and thin Grace, but his face was so much like her that there could be no mistake. He had to be her son.

But unlike hers, his face was unfocused and innocent, despite the childish fear on it.

He was retarded. Likely at the level of a two or three years old…

“Gianni, hold them! Not drop! Bad boy!… God…!” Tears were flowing down the face of Grace.

So that was why she was every day coming late and leaving early. She had to take him to a school for retarded kids. And to collect him at the end of the day.

And that was why she is so bitter at the life and everything. Being saddled with such a child surely was a huge toll, in everything…

Grace lifted her eyes from the bags on the ground and saw me. She froze on place and her face twisted again, this time in fear.

She was hiding that she has a retarded child. And now I knew…

Before I could think of anything, I was already walking towards her.

“Let me help with the bags, Grace. And don’t worry, I am not into gossip. What you don’t want known, will not be known.”

Grace was looking at me with huge eyes, obviously not believing me. I picked the bags from the ground. They were heavy indeed. Little wonder that she had tried to enlist her son’s help. Or that he dropped them, not understanding that it is important to carry them despite being heavy.

“Do you need help with Gianni?”

“No!… Thank you, I am used to handling him… What you are doing here? Living around?”

“The Boss sent me to bring some documents to the company accountants… I guess you were getting home with groceries? I will gladly help.”

“Thank you,” she replied after a moment of hesitation. “I am just two blocks from here, this way…”

Grace’s building turned out to be old, with flaking paint, apparently not well maintained. She probably had chosen it for a low rent. We climbed the stairs to the third floor. She unlocked one of the apartment doors and dragged Gianni in. I offered her the bags without entering, but she grabbed me by the wrist:

“Please come in. We have to talk.”

“Um, I wouldn’t like to intrude on you. We could talk at work, I wouldn’t—”

“No, we have to talk now. Gianni, go to your room. To your room!” She turned him towards a door at the end of the living room and, without waiting for him to enter, faced me:

“I am sorry, Lexie. You see, I—”

The doorbell interrupted her, loudly and insistently.

“Ooohhh… Just a moment, Lexie.” She almost ran to the apartment door. “Hello, Mrs. Sforzi. I have the rent with me.”

“Good,” replied a weak, rustling voice. “But why you haven’t paid for the staircase maintenance? You had to do it a month ago!”

“I did, Mrs. Sforzi! You wrote it in your notebook, remember? When I helped you clean your room.”

“Really?… Can you please come with me to check this, please? My memory is not good these days, you know.”

“Yes, Mrs. Sforzi…” The door closed behind Grace.

I looked around. The living room was big, with little furniture, mostly old and worn, but clean and well-maintained. A beautiful wooden table with several chairs, an upright piano, a wardrobe apparently out of the movies for the sixties, a bed in the corner… Likely Grace couldn’t afford a lot, despite that surely The Boss was paying her as well as me. A child like Gianni likely is a lot of expenses…

The entire left wall was a big bookshelf, with likely many hundreds of books. I came to it and started reading the titles. There was a section with pedagogy books, most of them about how to raise 2-3 year-old kids. Another with classics – de Lampedusa, Kalvino, Dante, Goethe, Shakespeare, Baudelaire. Yet another with popular science books… Obviously Grace loved to read. Maybe as an escape from the burden of having a retarded child.

I could not help but feel a sympathy towards her. I had believed that she is just nasty, especially to men. Turned out, she had had a husband who abandoned her, instead of helping her raise Gianni. I hadn’t believed before that he has been good for nothing, but now knew it was true. She had been more of a man than him…

Gianni passed near me, went to an old armchair at the end of the room and clumsily sat in it. Turned towards me and started looking at me intently. Then slowly and clumsily unzipped his pants, took out his junk and started masturbating.

At the first moment I was about to explode. This idiot was masturbating on me!!! Right on my eyes!!! I would…

This idiot…

This retarded child. Who couldn’t even know that this is not okay. Who would try to understand why I am beating him, and likely would not be able to…

“GIANNI!!!!”

I nearly jumped and turned quickly towards the voice. Grace was standing behind me – I hadn’t heard her entering. Her face was again twisted, this time with rage.

“YOU BASTARD! STOP NOW!!!”

Gianni looked at her, his mouth opened and he curled in the armchair in a ball, arms over his head, trembling like a leaf. She jumped at him. I managed to grab her wrist just in time to stop her from hitting him.

“Grace, wait!”

“I WILL KILL YOU, BASTARD! AND MYSELF TOO!!!”

“Grace, wait! WAIT!” I pulled her back with force. “Please, wait!”

“This… this prick! How he could, right in front of you! I beat him every time he—” Tears were flowing down the face of Grace, etching streaks in her make-up. Her face was unrecognizable – anger, shame and desperation were twisting it in a way that was impossible to describe.

“Grace… Wait. He has done nothing bad.”

“DONE NOTHING BAD?!”

“Yes.”

“…Sorry?!… Lexie, you…?!”

“Wait, Grace… Listen… Please listen…”

“Listen to what?!”

“Just listen… Imagine you are him.”

“Lexie, what are you—”

“Imagine you are him, Grace. The world is too big and complex for you. You can’t understand it. You have no friends, nobody like you. You get screamed at and beaten, but you can’t understand why, it is beyond you. The only human who loves you does that, and you can’t understand why… And you have urges you can’t explain, but feel them. They are the only pleasant thing in your life. You don’t know why. And you are beaten if you follow them, and you can’t understand why… That is to be him. You have no way to even imagine it. But that is it.”

“Lexie… why are you telling me that? Aren’t you angry with him?!”

“I am not. Sure, what he did was not polite or accepted, but he cannot understand it. It is us who must understand him, we are the healthy and smart adults. He is just a sufferer who is not guilty for what he is, he hasn’t chosen it. He must be taught somehow about it, but not by beating him. He is not guilty.”

Grace was looking at me with eyes like saucers.

“Lexie, you… you… For God’s sake, aren’t you revolted?!”

“Well, it is not pleasant.” Especially when you are actually a man, I thought. Exactly because you know so much better than women what Gianni feels. “But he is not guilty. I can live with someone masturbating on me, but not with punishing someone who is not guilty… I am sure that you understand it. That if you were me, you would feel the same way. Because this is the right way to feel.”

Grace continued to look at me like she was seeing an alien.

“But Lexie… God…”

“Please, Grace, take a seat. Or better try and calm Gianni. He is horrified now, without deserving it. And, whatever he has done, he is still your child. Nobody can help and calm him like you.”

Grace was standing, looking at me, trying to say something, but couldn’t.

“Go, calm him. This is the most important now. We will talk after that about anything you want.”

Grace slowly walked towards the armchair, moving like a wooden doll. Knelt next to it and started carefully stroking Gianni’s short hair. For some time nothing happened, then the trembling decreased little by little. Then he lifted slowly his head and looked at her, his face a mask of childish horror. She looked back at him and tried to say something, but her voice failed. She grabbed his head and started caressing it and crying so strongly that her entire body was shaking.

I turned aside and started pretending to look at the books on the shelves.

Had a man tried to masturbate in front of me before, I would beat him into pulp, right there and then, without caring if he is retarded or not. And would be proud of it. I would never think that he might not be guilty. That he might be a sufferer, not a pervert.

Even now, if that happened during the weekend, I would likely do the same. Turns out, I hadn’t learned much from my own experience…

As Lexie however I had. I was able to see these things. And was willing to think, to understand and forgive. Again, the real man in me had turned out to be not Damiano, but Lexie…

The sobbing of Grace gradually decreased. Then I heard her sigh.

“Lexie… We have to talk.”

I sat on a chair against her and Gianni, smiled and nodded.

“Lexie… I do not know how I will be ever able to repay you—”

“You have nothing to repay. I will never tell anyone about the problems of Gianni, unless you ask me to do it. No matter what, even if we become worst enemies. You have my word on this.”

“But what Gianni did to you… It is—”

“It is nothing important. He didn’t even touch me… And, thinking of it, it is actually a compliment. Maybe not very intelligent, but very sincere one.” I forced myself to smile. “It is forgotten, Grace. Again, even if we become worst enemies. And if it happens again, will be forgotten again, no matter how many times. I will never go back on my word.”

Grace again looked at me with huge eyes for some time. Then quietly said:

“From anyone else I wouldn’t believe that for all the gold and diamonds in the world. From you, I believe it. You are… incredible. Impossible. Too good to be true. Your character is better than even the strongest men. I can’t believe you do that and still are a dream of a woman. It can’t be.”

Does she again suspect something?… How to change the topic?!

“Umm, Grace, I believed that you are a feminist. How is it that you think men are better in character than women?”

Grace sighed.

“I am anything but a feminist… Women are even more spoiled than men. You might not believe it, so many women don’t, but it is true. Everyone says that being a man is a privilege. Well, being a woman is an entitlement. Different in details, but equally as bad as a whole.”

I raised an eyebrow. Grace was the last person I expected to say something like this.

“And you are unique, Lexie. With your looks you could be the most entitled woman in the world. Instead, you don’t have a speck of that. You try to hold a door for men, to help absolutely everyone, care for everyone, forgive anything… You are an angel in flesh and blood.”

I felt my face burning with embarrassment. Sure, Grace was emotionally grateful, but I still felt ashamed. Not long ago I was thinking that I am among the best men ever. Now I knew better – much better…

“You are idealizing me, Grace. Look for example at—”

“Really? Tell me, who else would promise all that to a bitch like me?”

“You aren’t a bitch! You are just overburdened and tired from bad luck. Exactly like Gianni. You are not guilty for it. Never think that of yourself!… I might make a better impression just because of having better luck in the life. Things that don’t depend on me, that aren’t my achievement.”

“I was a bitch to you. So many times. I… I envied you. For being everything that I am not and dream to be. That every woman dreams to be… I am sorry, Lexie. Really, really sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for. You are a wonderful woman. A mother who didn’t hesitated to raise and care for a difficult child, even when the father abandoned her. I don’t know if I would be strong enough to do it… This is a lesson to me, Grace. Never be sorry for yourself. Be proud of yourself. You deserve it.”

Lucky for example with being born male, I was thinking while walking on the street towards the subway. With all privileges that come with it. No matter what Grace thinks about women being entitled… And Grace’s braveness was a great lesson. If I was her, I maybe wouldn’t dare to take on it. Even as Lexie. As Damiano I would never do so.

Yes, Lexie was definitely a much better human than Damiano. Stronger and braver.

However, if she wasn’t Damiano on the inside, she would likely be spoiled by her looks and entitled to the bone.

What a brain twister that was. Being more of a man while being a woman than while being a man, but just because that woman is actually a man…

Yes, I had absolutely no intention of trying to actually be a woman. But trying to learn and use some lessons during the weekends too, while I was myself, was a good idea.

… Oh well. Let’s first handle, somehow, the invitation of Carlo tomorrow.

At least, as Lexie I was surely more capable to deal with anything than as Damiano.