This is an unauthorized continuation of Jeremy Chandler’s, “My Summer in Pantyhose,” last added to by Jeremy 04/07/2023. The story line and characters belong to Jeremy Chandler and are used without express permission. What follows is intended as fan fiction with the greatest of admiration for Jeremy and appreciation for the original work.

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  Samantha decided that the only way she’d see Julie any time besides Sunday after church was to hunt her down. To that end, she found herself at the mall entering the store where Julie worked. She was sure Julie hadn’t taken lunch yet because it was just going on eleven. She strolled back to Julie’s department.

  “Hi stranger,” Samantha said, surprising Julie, who was busy rearranging a display.

  “Oh, hi Samantha. What are you doing here? Looking to give me a little commission?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you hadn’t taken lunch yet, so I could join you. Between your job and dating Aaron, I haven’t had much of your time. Especially since you can date him openly now.” She put on a fake pout. “I’m beginning to think you only had time for me when you needed me to cover for you.”

  “Samantha!” Julie exclaimed, under her breath. “You know that’s not true. We were friends long before I ever met Aaron.”

  “I know, I know. But the truth is that when you were sneaking around I got to see you before and after your dates. I was feeling left out before because we couldn’t let anybody know about Aaron, so the meant no double dating. Pre-Aaron, we used to do that a lot.”

  “We can start up again, now that Mom knows about Aaron.”

  “The trick is to find a guy who won’t be a total juvenile so Aaron doesn’t feel like he’s babysitting. Anyway, unless you feel like I’m intruding on your Aaron time; when do you get lunch?”

  “In about a half an hour. And no, I can enjoy time with Aaron and visit with you too.”

  “So you’re meeting Aaron for lunch?”

  “That’s the plan. It doesn’t always work out, but he tries to take lunch the same time I do.”

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I’ll go hang out in the music store, next door. Find me when you head out or lunch.”

  “OK, it won’t be long.”

  Melissa and Carla were hanging out in the basement watching some boring summer romance movie.

  “What’s up with your sister? She’s never around. Is she hanging out with Josh a lot now?”

  “Oh, she’s around Carla. She spends all her time in her room. The only time I ever see her is dinner time, when Mom and Dad expect us to all sit down for a meal together. I can go to her room to bug her but she nearly gets violent when I do. It’s scary.”

  “I thought that after that email, she’d surely finally dump sissy-hose boy and take advantage of Josh’s obvious attention.”

  “Yeah, I did her a favor queering the relationship with that loser and opening the door to a wider relationship with Josh. You know that Mom never did like sissy-hose, but she thinks Josh is great. He comes from a good family and all that. But Megan claims that if she never sees Josh again, it’ll still be too soon. And sits up in her room bemoaning the loss of sissy-hose.”

  “I gotta wonder what Josh did to tick her off so bad.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he turned out to not be any good at it when she got sand in her hair.”

  “Eewe, do you think she really did it with him?”

  “If what I hear is right, Josh does it with all the girls he dates. Why should Megan be any different. What I don’t understand is how he couldn’t leave her begging for more. By all reports all the other girls do.”

  “Are you sure your father will be OK with me? I could have worn my jean shorts like I did when I met your mother.”

  “Don’t worry. When mom was reworking the harassment policy for her company she would bring home drafts and he would go over it with her. His company had included that wording for a couple of years and he knows how it works. They’ve had a couple of people transition where he works. He says if you get it right, it’s no big deal. Who they were before doesn’t change, only the way they look and even then not always. He’ll be fine.”

  Jamie wasn’t sure what ‘transition’ was. But it seemed that Tabitha thought he should, so he kept mum and let her think what she wanted.

  They turned the corner at the end of her block and to spite her reassurances, his stomach still knotted up. It was exacerbated by the fact that he needed his hair put back in shape because he got it messed up while playing games in the arcade. So while they were waiting for the bus, Tabitha had brushed it for him. As he got off the bus he got a look at it in the passenger mirror that the driver used to keep track of what was going on in the bus. It really looked like girl’s hairdo.

  Inside, her mother greeted them.

  “Hi kids. Did you have a good time?”

  “Oh yeah, Mom. They’ve got some really great multi-player games.”

  “Did you have any trouble?”

  “You mean with guys there having trouble with a girl who can kick their tail at any given game? No, not really. It was better because there was two of us. There was a couple of guys that challenged us on a four-player game and then again where we had to take turns on a two-player game. When we bested them they insisted on buying us a coke. But we made excuses and left them sitting in the food court.”

  Jamie pondered the meaning of “there was two of us.” It almost sounded as if Tabitha was referring to him as a girl. He reflected on how he should feel about someone referring to him as a girl. If I’m offended, does that make me sexist; like there was something wrong with being a girl? he thought.

  “Trevor,” Tabitha’s mother called out. “Tabitha and Jamie are back from the arcade.”

  A very conservative looking man entered from the back of the house. He smiled and gave Jamie the once over as he approached them.

  “Hello, Jamie, I’m Tabitha’s dad. We’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” He put out his hand for Jamie. Jamie took it and was relieved when he didn’t do the strong-man thing that so many people do.

  “Good to meet you too sir.”

  “Do you need any help with dinner?” Tabitha asked.

  “The roast is in the oven and due out in about five minutes. The potatoes are in the crock pot and the vegetable is ready to go in the microwave. But if you really want to help, you could set the table.”

  “Alright,” Tabitha allowed.

  “That’s usually my job at home,” Jamie said. “I could help her if you like.”

  “You’re the guest son,” Tabitha’s dad said.

  “I don’t mind. Last week, my sister’s boyfriend was supposed to be the invited guest, but he ended up barbecuing the chicken. Compared to that setting the table is nothing.”

  “Well, son if you really want to go ahead.”

  “You know you really didn’t have to help me. They were serious about you being the guest,” Tabitha told Jamie as they collected the dishes and cutlery for dinner.”

  “I know, but I’m a little nervous. I need to get my pulse rate down. Besides, I’m taking page out of Aaron’s book. He was over the top helping with dinner last week and it won him the right to date Julie. I’m hoping to score similar points with your family.”

  Tabitha decided that the best way to help Jamie calm down was to get his mind off her parents with a little light teasing. What’s more, if she worded it right, it might plant the seed to get Jamie thinking along the same lines as she was, relationship wise.

  She smiled and said, “Jamie, are you asking if it’s alright to date me?”

  “Well, … ah… I … ah…”

  Tabitha took pity on him, put the stack of dishes on the table and touched his arm gently.

  “It’s alright, Jamie, I was just teasing. Although, … if you ever get around to wanting to, no need to ask permission. I wouldn’t mind.” She winked at him and went back to distributing the plates around the table.

  “Oh, well, thanks,” Jamie said weakly as he followed behind placing silverware and a folded napkin at each place. “I guess I wouldn’t mind either.”

  Score, thought Tabitha as she quickly arranged the glasses.

  Tabitha’s mother practiced the age-old art that mothers everywhere use to gather information. She eavesdrop on the conversation from just inside the kitchen door.

  She stepped into the dining room with the roast on a platter.

  “I see you two finished just in time the roast is ready. Dear, will you come and carve the roast while I bring the sides in?” she called to her husband.

  Tabitha’s father sat at the head of the table with Jamie to his right. Tabitha’s mother across from Jamie and Tabitha to Jamie’s right.

  “Young man, do you prefer well done or more toward the rare side,” Tabitha’s father wanted to know as he slice generous slabs of roast.

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” Jamie told him. “I just like roast beef.”

  “Well then, let me give you a center cut. I think you’ll find it has a much nicer taste compared to the end cut.”

  With that he speared a slice about two inches from the end and placed it on Jamie’s plate.

  “Tabitha, you want the same as your young man, I presume.”

  “Yes please,” she said holding out her plate.

  He serve her the next one in line.

  “Well, dear,” he said to his wife, “Looks like you’re alone eating the medium rare,” and dished her piece; finally dishing himself a center cut.

  After a quick prayer of thanksgiving, the sides were dished and they began eating.

  “I hope we didn’t make you feel uncomfortable saying grace,” Tabitha’s mother said.

  “Oh no ma’am. We say grace at home too.”

  “What church do you go to? We’ve only recently moved here and haven’t settled in to a church home.”

  “Central Christian.”

  “Is it a good church for families?”

  “I like it the pastor doesn’t get all wrapped up in church talk and makes it easy to follow what he’s preaching about. Lots of families go there.”

  She looked at her husband.

  “Maybe we should try that one. I know where we went last week seemed to have mostly older couples in the congregation.”

  “It would have the advantage of us knowing Jamie here and you’ve met his mother.”

  “Yes I did. I really got on well with her.”

  “Do you like working every day?” Grandma wanted to know Monday while they waited for Jamie’s mother to pick him up at the end of the day..

  “Yeah. I’ve kind of read everything I have and you don’t have a computer, so it keeps me from being bored.”

  “What about the girl, Kelli? Is she still giving you a hard time?”

  “Not like it was before. It was slow Wednesday morning and she came to the back room with some story about how her social worker cousin had told her that cross-dressers weren’t any more likely to be gay than anyone else. In the end, she apologized for calling me boyette. Did you know there was a movie with that name? It’s about a gay guy. Anyway, in the end she said she was sorry for thinking I was gay. Since then she’s pretty much treated me the same as she treats Tabitha.”

  “That’s good. I ran into Lucille at the department store Sunday evening. We talked a bit and she was all praises about your work ethic. She said the only time that she’s had any concern was when you were picking up the spill and using your shirt to contain what you’d picked up and displayed the top of your pantyhose. She asked me if you were wearing camisoles now. When I told her I didn’t think so, she said you should.

  “To placate her, I told her I’d buy you some there and then. She went with me and we found some nice ones on sale. So I bought six sets.”

  “Sets?” Jamie asked.

  “Yes, the sale price was on cami/panty sets.”

  Grandma retrieved a carrier bag.

  “I don’t know if you wear anything under the pantyhose, but girls often do. Especially if they are wearing nude to the waist. I suspect you don’t, since your underwear has always been boxers and they would bunch up under the pantyhose. But, anyway, you have the panties if you want to give them a try.”

  “What have you got in the bag,” Jamie’s mom wanted to know when she picked him up at Grandma’s.

  “I guess that Lucille convinced Grandma that I need to wear camisoles under my tops. So she bought me some.” He didn’t want to tell her about the panties.

  “That was nice of her.”

  “I’m not sure about wearing camisoles. That’s like wearing girls’ underwear.”

  “Think of it as an undershirt. You know when I was a girl, my grandfather always wore a plain white tee-shirt as an undershirt. You don’t have any plain tee-shirts let alone white ones. So if Lucille wants you to wear something under your tops, it was nice of Grandma to buy them for you.”

  “Do you really think that I should wear them?”

  “Well, it’s not really what I think that matters; it’s what your boss thinks. But you know some of your tops are a bit sheer if I wore something like that, I’d wear a cami under it, just to keep the outline of my bra from showing through.”

  “But I don’t wear a bra.”

  “That’s true, but you do have nipples and in the right light, the top you have on today allows me to see them. Look, just try them. If you truly don’t like them I’ll buy some wifebeaters.”

  “What are wifebeaters?”

  “The kind of undershirt that looks like a tank top, only it’s made of soft cotton knit fabric.”

  “Why do they call them ‘wifebeaters’?”

  “Some guy in the middle of the last century beat his wife to death and his picture was in the paper wearing one of those undershirts and the caption said, ‘wifebeater’ and by the end of the century everyone was calling them that.”

  “Hi Aaron. I hope you don’t mind. I brought Samantha along.”

  “Not at all,” Aaron said standing. “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. How are you Samantha? I haven’t seen you since we rescued Megan.”

  “I’m fine thanks,” said Samantha sitting at one of the chairs around the table. “If it weren’t for Sundays Julie could say the same as you.” She gave Julie a pointed look.

  “She’s been my BFF forever and she’s a bit miffed that you’ve monopolized my time lately,” Julie informed him.

  “I’m sorry, Samantha, it’s just that I enjoy her company so much. Maybe we should sit down and work out a schedule so that you get your fair share of her time. After all, you’re a long-time best friend and I’m an upstart new boyfriend. I’m sure that gives you some negotiating rights,” he said with a wink.

  “I see why you like him, Julie. He smart, reasonable and willing to share.” Then turning to Aaron, she continued. “You don’t have a younger brother who’s still in high school, do you?”

  “Afraid not. But I do have a younger cousin, who’ll be a freshman at City U this year. That’s almost still in high school.”

  “Is he single and unattached?”

  Aaron laughed. “You looking for a boyfriend? I can’t imagine a girl with your looks needs someone to set her up on a blind date.”

  “She pointed out to me today that we used to double date a lot, so having a relationship with someone didn’t cut into our time together as best friends. But with you being a secret, that time got pared down to the time I spent at her house waiting for you and now that we’ve cut a deal with Mom, she doesn’t even get that.”

  “I don’t mind double dating,” Aaron told them.

  “The rub comes when you consider the maturity level of the guys she has to choose from compared with you,” Julie explained.

  “Yeah, if we doubled with the current crop of guys I know, you might feel like you were required to bring the little kids along on your date,” Samantha agree.

  “Ah, so if I pick the guy, it’s on me. OK, so what are my limitations on picking a date for you?”

  “First and foremost, it has to be someone you don’t mind having around. Second, he can’t be as old as you are. There’s no way I could sell my mother on me dating someone your age. I don’t know how Julie managed it. From my point of view, letting her know you were dating should have been a crash and burn scenario. After that, points given for good looks, intelligence and maturity.”

  “All of those things fit my cousin and I happen to know he’s between relationships. Want me to see if I can set something up?”