(The Story Thus Far: Born out of wedlock in 1929, Merritt Lane McGraw is about to enter kindergarten; he has spent nearly all of his young life living with his mother, who works as a live-in maid and nanny for a wealthy young widow and her two daughters. Merritt’s mother, Evelyn, found herself in a torrid love affair with Viola Buckner, her employer, while the women’s daughters loved to treat Merritt as a little girl. Merritt was becoming more and more like a girl, and the boy appears to find it natural. To escape the demanding sexual encounters with her employer (which Evelyn feels is sinful) and to take her son away from the feminine atmosphere of the estate, Evelyn has made a decision to leave the Buckners and return home to live with her parents. Her future is very problematic since it’s 1935 and the Great Depression is still in full swing.)

Chapter 9: A Budding Romance

Evelyn’s “date” with Bob Casey, the library clerk, consisted of the two having ice cream sundaes at one of the many Tompkins Ice Cream parlors around town. Evelyn had planned to visit the library on the first Wednesday afternoon after she returned to her parents’ home, in the off-hand hope that Bob would be working and they could restore their friendship. She had been told by Mike O’Hara that Bob seemed truly interested in her.

She knew it was not the place for a young woman to initiate such a meeting, that she was being “forward,” and the custom of the time prohibited such behavior, except among the whores who worked the areas of Front and Edison streets in the downtown.

She asked her mother to watch Merritt for the afternoon, while she took the streetcar to the main library where she found Bob working the desk. She stood in line, holding the Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women,” as three children ahead were checking out books. Bob was busy stamping the due dates into the front of the books, and barely looked up when she presented her library card and the book to him.

“I’ll need to have the address changed on my card,” she said quietly.

Only then did he look up, giving her a shocked look.

“Oh, Evelyn. It’s you.”

“Yes, Bob, I’ve moved back in with my parents.”

“Really, away from the slave owner?” he said with a wink.

“Yes, I’m free now,” she said, unashamedly.

“I’m off in 20 minutes, if you can hang around for a while, Evelyn. Maybe we can go somewhere for a few minutes.”

“That would be nice, and I see you’re busy. I’ll wait in the main reading room.”

The pair ended up at Tompkins, which was crowded with both children and adults looking for a cool treat on a warm summer day.

“You know I thought of you often since we first met, and then the chauffeur told me how that woman kept you basically locked up in that mansion of hers,” he said as they each ate their hot fudge sundaes, at 10c each, the cheapest in town. (Most places then charged 15c.)

“I did too,” she admitted.

Thus, their romance began, simply and tentatively.

*****
It was apparent that Bob Casey’s basic shyness came from a genuine concern about how his actions might hurt another person. Evelyn found that such a sweet trait, a feature that was missing among her earlier relationships, that of her one-night affair with Drake Kosgrove (her son’s father) and the one-sided, yet passionate, love affair with Viola, her employer.

They barely held hands during their first “real” date, a streetcar trip downtown to see “It Happened One Night,” a witty romance starring the heartthrob of the era, Clark Gable, and a leading star, Claudette Colbert. Bob Casey had no car, having had to sell his Model T Ford when he lost his job in the factory, and taken the lower paying clerical job in the library.

Evelyn enjoyed the coyness displayed by the Actress Colbert, who portrays a rebellious, but spoiled, rich girl seeking to escape an arranged marriage with an older man, only to find herself in the cynical control of a newspaper reporter on the search for a scoop. In her mind, she pictured herself that kind of a girl, finding release in the independence that such a role envisioned.

She yearned for Bob to give her passionate kisses, but all she got at the end of the date was a polite peck on her lips, with the statement, softly made, by her lanky boy friend, “Thank you, Evelyn. I had a nice time. I would like to do this again.”

Evelyn, seeking to move more tightly against him as the two stood on the front stoop of the McGraw home, said, “Yes, I’d like that.”

And she raised her head, her lips inviting another kiss, a longer, more passionate kiss, but instead was greeted with Bob Casey turning away, heading down the walk, with a comment, “I better get going or else I’ll miss the last car tonight.”

“Bye,” she waved.

“Bye, Evelyn.” And he was off in a trot down the street to get the last streetcar.

That night in bed, she wanted to be held, to be caressed and kissed. At that moment, she again wanted the arms of her demanding lover, Viola Buckner. She cried silently, her son asleep in the tiny bed next to hers.

*****
Miss Riley was a robust, tall woman, who at first glance seemed to have a fearsome demeanor, and she ruled the kindergarten class at Dover Street School with a firmness that was admired by the parents of her charges. Yet, within a week, the woman’s soft and warm nature emerged and the tiny children, in their first days away from their families, found great comfort in being in her class. It was “Miss Riley, can I do . . .” “Miss Riley, I want that toy . . .”

True to expectations, Merritt cried heartily on the first day of school as his mother sought to drop him off in Miss Riley’s class. He wasn’t the only child crying, but Evelyn was embarrassed nonetheless, since the other crying children tended to be girls and not as loud and prolonged as Merritt’s display.

“Just go, Mrs. McGraw,” the teacher said, her tall, large body towering over the more diminutive Evelyn.

“It’s Miss McGraw,” Evelyn corrected the teacher. “Merritt’s father is no longer around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” the teacher said. “I should have checked the sheet closer. But, just go, my dear. He’ll be fine, I assure you.”

Evelyn pried the child’s hands from her skirt and turned one hand over to Miss Riley, who had knelt down, hugging the boy, saying gently, “Your mother must go now, dear. We’ll find some nice toys for you.”

With that, she took Merritt away, leading him to a large toy truck made out of wood. Evelyn left the room, pausing at the door long enough to hear the boy say, his crying ended, but his face streaked with tears, “Can I play there,” pointing to a large doll house, already being admired by three girls.

Miss Riley looked at Evelyn, still at the door, as if to ask, “Is that OK with you.” Evelyn nodded, “yes.”

At the end of the morning, as Evelyn arrived to pick up her child, Merritt bounded across the room, full of life with no signs of any further crying. “Mommy, mommy, look at the big doll house. It’s so big and I met Diane and Nancy, too.”

Two girls followed her son across the room and Evelyn greeted them. “We like Merritt,” said one them, a tiny blonde girl, later identified as Diane.

“That’s nice,” Evelyn said, realizing all efforts so far to make her son more of a boy had not worked.

“You see, Miss McGraw, he was fine,” Miss Riley said, having come up to greet Evelyn.

“Was he at that doll house all morning?”

“Most of it, he seems to like that the best. I tried to get him to play with the truck, but he left that after a few minutes, returning to the doll house.”

“I was afraid of that,” Evelyn said, her concern apparent.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Miss McGraw,” Miss Riley assured her. “Kids at this age don’t seem to know much difference in the toys and their gender. Let him do what he enjoys for now. He’s a sweet boy, very polite.”

“Thank you, we try hard to raise him properly.”

“I’m sure you do, but without a man in the house, it must be hard, Miss McGraw.” Miss Riley’s comments were sympathetic, but Evelyn wondered if this kindly woman was feeling judgmental about the fact that she was raising a child as a single woman. It just wasn’t done in those days.

“We manage fine, Miss Riley, thank you.” Evelyn said pointedly. “Come on Merritt, let’s go home and have lunch.”

*****
It turned out that Bob Casey was still a virgin at age 26; always shy and retiring around women, he was reluctant to ask anyone for a date. Yet, as Evelyn continued to go out with him, he became more and more impassioned, and his kisses and caresses intensified.

“I feel so comfortable with you, Evie,” he said on their fourth date, another movie.

“And I with you Bob. You’re so nice and gentle,” she added, as they sat on the porch swing on a warm summer night after returning to her home. They held hands, his long fingers firmly wrapped around her soft fleshy hand.

“I feel . . . ah . . . umm . . . that I can tell you something,” he said.

“Of course, you can anything.”

He halted, and even in the dim light she could see his face grow flushed.

She leaned over and kissed him, as if to encourage he continue.

“I’ve never been with a girl before,” he said quickly, as if hurrying to get the words out of his mouth while he still had the courage to admit his embarrassing news.

“Oh? You mean you’ve never had sex with a girl?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Um, yes,” he said, his admission now turning him beet red, which she could see even in the faint light emanting from inside the house.

“That’s fine, darling,” she said. She now drew him totaling into her arms, kissing him profusely. He returned the kisses, tentatively at first, but soon grew more excited, his hands now exploring areas he had never touched before.

*****
Six months later, Evelyn became Mrs. Robert Casey; they were married in a simple Catholic ceremony in the rectory and without a mass. The pastor was concerned that Evelyn was not “pure” enough to warrant a complete wedding mass, due to the illegitimate birth of Merritt. Rather than argue, the family agreed to the same type of ceremony that would be held if one of the partners was not Catholic.

Evelyn’s brother, Frank, was best man, and Bob’s sister, Marie, was maid of honor. Merritt was ring bearer, looking so cute in black trousers, white shirt and tie, accompanied by Judy, Frank’s young daughter, as flower girl.

“Mommy, isn’t Judy pretty?” Merritt asked as they were lining up to be walking into the main dining room of the rectory where the ceremony was held.

“Yes, she is, honey, and it was so nice you helped her with her dress, too.”

“She doesn’t know anything about dresses,” he suggested.

Evelyn nodded her head, recalling with some embarrassment how Merritt had astounded everyone with adjusting the little girl’s dress and belt, working daintily and gently, while little Judy squirmed.

Even the bridesmaid noticed, commenting, “Your little boy seems to know lots about girl’s dresses, Evelyn. He’s so sweet to my Judy.”

“Well, I guess he’s watched me dress. We have to share the same room at home, but once Bob and I are together, he’ll have his own room.”

“I guess that’s it,” Marie said. “But he’s a doll, dear.”

Evelyn nodded, realizing how pretty her son would look as the flower girl; and, he’d be so happy in the dress, too, she knew.

That night, their Honeymoon night, Bob Casey, awkward and tentative, aided by Evelyn, lost his virginity. He was quick in the act, quicker than he wanted to be, but Evelyn assured him he was fine. As she lay there, with Bob Casey already asleep, she wished for more affection, more caresses and more kisses. And her thoughts turned to Voila.

*****
During their six month courtship, Evelyn, unbeknownst to either her parents or Bob, had visited Viola, usually on Tuesdays, when Michael and Mary O’Hara had the day off and were gone from the estate. Viola was careful not to let Mary learn of Evelyn’s weekly visits, since the cook was a regular visitor to her bed at night.

Evelyn felt so comfortable in the arms of the older woman, her sinewy arms, firm tummy and tiny breasts. She loved laying her soft white body next to Viola’s strong athletic, tanned body, smelling her soapy scent, usually mixed without the sweetness of perfume. She welcomed the strong hands that caressed her flesh, her meaty thighs and full bosom.

“Your Bob will never love you like this, Evie,” Viola said often.

Evelyn agreed. She felt so wanted, so desired and so much in love. Her orgasms were wild and noisy and repeated several times a visit.

On the Tuesday in the week preceding the marriage, Evelyn arrived a bit earlier than usual and caught Viola still in her tennis outfit, flushed and sweaty from an always hotly contested tennis match with Penelope Quinn, a younger woman she often competed against.

“Oh, Evie, you’re early,” Viola said, wiping herself down with a towel. “Penny just left, and I haven’t cleaned up yet. Gimme a few minutes.”

“Oh you don’t have to. You look so . . . oh, so . . . lovely as you are?”

“As I am? All sweaty and smelling like a pig farm?”

“Yes, as you are.” Evelyn approached the older woman, hugging Viola tightly, her face flat against the moist armpits of the older woman. She tasted the salty moisture from her body, the musky sour smell of her damp clothes.

They stumbled together, arm-in-arm to Viola’s bedroom, her bed still unmade from the morning, since Mary was not around to remake the bedclothes. Soon they were nude together on the bed, both bodies now glistening in sweat. Evelyn rubbed her hand into Viola’s vagina, making the woman cry with delight. She withdrew her hand, her fingers are moist with Viola’s juices, and put her fingers into her own mouth, finding the salty taste so intoxicating.

“Here, darling,” Evelyn said. “Taste it.” She put her fingers now into Viola’s welcoming mouth.

“Oh so nasty,” Viola responded. “But I like it.”

The older woman squealed with delight and the two embraced now, kissing passionately.

“Oh, god, Evie, how could you desert me? How could you leave?”

“I don’t know, I guess I had to, but I love you, Viola. I want you so bad.”

It was the wildest session the two woman had ever had together, and afterward, in the shower they shared, they soaped each other up, letting the warm water wash over them as they kissed and caressed each other.

“You’re sure you want to go through with the wedding, dear?” Viola asked later as they shared iced tea in the kitchen.

“Oh yes, it’s the right thing to do, both for me and Merritt. He needs male influence in his life.”

“You could stay here forever, you know?”

“I know, darling, but it wouldn’t be right. We’re sinning something terrible now, Viola.”

The older woman patted her arm. “No honey, it’s no sin if you’re in love.”

Evelyn nodded her head. “But this is 1936 and I know they’re talking lots these days about ‘free love,’ but not here in this backward town. People will talk.”

“So let them talk, Evie.”

“No, Viola, this is the right thing to do, really. I’m 26 now and most girls my age are married and I need the security of a nice man, and Bob is really sweet. He really is.”

“But he’s not much of a man from what I can see.” Her tone was a bit snarky.

“Oh he’s man enough, I’m sure,” Evelyn smiled.

“You’re sure? You don’t know?”

Evelyn grew flush, not willing to admit that her husband-to-be was still virgin and unschooled in the ways of sex.

“Oh I know,” she said simply.

*****
Slowly, as Bob Casey grew more confident in his sexual endeavors, aided of course by Evelyn’s aggressiveness, the couple’s love-making soon became more fulfilling. Yet, she had to admit it never reached the height of intensity she felt with Viola.

The couple, with Merritt in tow, moved into an apartment on the second floor of Swenson’s Novelties and Craft Store, a family business that was nearly 60 years old. Maury Swenson and his wife, Hilda, lived in the other of the two apartments on the second floor. The Casey’s place had two small bedrooms, a living room and tiny kitchen, along with a bath.

“You can have this apartment for $72.50 a month,” Hilda told Bob and Evelyn as they examined the place.

“That’ll be a little tight for us,” Bob said.

“You won’t have any pets will you?” the woman asked.

“No, just our son who’ll be six in September.”

“I hope he’s not too rough a boy,” the potential land lady said.

“Not at all,” Evelyn replied. “You’ll find him sweet.”

“I hope so,” she said. “Tell you what, you can have the place for $70 a month, but no lease. If you don’t work out, I’ll kick you out.”

The Caseys had found the apartment to be unusually clean and bright; furthermore, it was the rear apartment with a separate entrance. They would be shielded from street noise, it seemed. Besides, Swenson’s was a favored supply center for cloth, threads, yarn, and other sewing materials.

“It’s a deal,” Bob said.

Chapter 10: The Dress Shop

“Mommy, do they make dresses down there?” Merritt asked his mother after the young couple moved into the apartment.

“No, darling, but they do sell stuff for people to make dresses and other clothes?” his mother answered. She and her young husband were tired from the day of moving; even though their belongings were meager, it still was exhausting. Evelyn’s father had assisted and they had rented to small trailer, but still, with the repeated climb up stairs to the second floor, Evelyn was pale with exhaustion and she sat on a box in the cluttered living room.

“Can we make dresses, mommy, like we did with Bethie?” the boy asked.

His round sweet face was beaming brightly as he asked the question.

“We’ll see, darling,” she said as he nestled in her arms.

“Please, mommy,” the boy persisted.

Bob entered the room from the kitchen carrying two glasses of lemonade, their dewy sides dripping.

“What’s he asking for?” he asked, given a glass each to Merritt and his mother.

“He wants to sew dresses.”

“Dresses?” Bob asked in wonderment. “What on earth for?”

“He used to enjoy doing it with Beth, Viola’s daughter,” she explained. “She even taught him to use the sewing machine.”

Bob shook his head. There was a look of disgust that was apparent to Evelyn. Her father had made quite a point of urging Bob, as Evelyn’s new husband, to work on makeing a “boy” out of Merritt. As he told Bob one night after the two had made their engagement known:

“All he knows, Bob, is women, living out there with that Viola woman and her girls. You’re his new dad now, so you’ll have to be an example to him.”

Bob, in truth, had never been much of an athlete in his own right, being slender and a bit gawky, but he was able to throw and catch a baseball easily and when put to the test always seemed to be a credible performer.

“I don’t know, Evie,” he said. “I need to get him into sports.”

“Oh Bob, you sound like my dad,” she said. “Give him time. He’ll develop.”

“We’ll see.”

Merritt listened intently to this conversation; slowly he was beginning to realize that he was a boy, and that he needed to start acting like one. He had gotten pushed around a bit in Kindergarten, particularly by a nasty little boy called Casimir, who made fun of Merritt for playing so often with the dolls. He loved his mother, and he wasn’t sure about her new husband, who seemed nice enough but he seemed to always be touching and kissing his mother. He didn’t like that.

Later that night, as Evelyn tucked him in bed, he asked: “Doesn’t Bob like me?”

“Sure he likes you, honey,” she said. “And he’s your daddy now, so call him ‘daddy.’”

“I love you mommy,” the boy said.

She kissed him goodnight, this sweet gentle child, this feminine, soft child, so tender and innocent who looked so lovely in a dress. How would he fare in the world of men and boys?

*****
And Merritt soon drifted off to sleep, although he had several wakeful moments when he wished he could have been snuggled tightly against her warm soft body, so full of feminine scent. His childhood had been filled with those tender moments, tight against his mother, so often in a matching nightie of his own.

Those evenings were over now.

“You’re too old now to sleep with me, darling,” she had tried telling him as he approached the age of five. Then, when Bob married her, that new man occupied her bed, and Merritt could only weep at the missing hugs and caresses.

Mostly he missed the idea that on those occasions in his mother’s bed she had made him feel like he was her little girl. Always before bedtime on those occasions, she bathed him in a sweet smelling bubble bath and made him feel so smooth and pretty. Then she allowed him to wear his little girl nightie, a lace-trimmed frock of opaque pink cloth that reach to his knees and had a scooped neckline and puffy short sleeves.

He loved that nightie, and often danced before climbing into the bed. Those magical evenings were ended in his life, he feared. Now that Bob Casey occupied his mother’s bed, there was no room for Merritt; and, worst of all, he was afraid it ended any chance of his mother ever again dressing him as a girl.

*****
For Evelyn, the new man in her life, the lanky and somewhat awkward Bob Casey, brought a stability and normalcy that young women of her era felt they needed. In short, a woman of the Great Depression required a bread-winner, someone to provide her with a secure future, a steady income, a chance for children and a family.

Bob Casey was a caring man, gentle and generous of spirit. He was ever attentive to Evelyn's needs and desires, so much so that it often maddened her as a he would forever be inquiring, “What would you like?” He rarely led in matters, both big and small, from whether to buy Grade A “large” eggs or “medium” to where the young family should live after their marriage.

It was Evelyn who eventually found their apartment, having seen the “For Rent” stuck in the second story window above Swenson's Novelties and Craft Store. She inquired about the apartment during a visit for a sewing pattern, and Mrs. Swenson having been impressed by the young woman during Evelyn's frequent visits to the store suggested she bring her new husband around later to view it.

Bob seemed unimpressed with the apartment, located as it was along a busy street with the continual honking of horns and clang of streetcars, but Evelyn fell in love with its brightness, pointing out their apartment was in the rear, far from the street noise. Bob Casey quickly agreed to the idea. That was Bob, ever accommodating.

Strangely, Bob Casey had the soul of a romantic and the mind of a wannabe intellectual, in spite of his lack of advanced education. That's what made him so happy working in the library, around books, both romantic novels and intellectual tomes. He read both with great eagerness, sometimes crying aloud at the occurrences in the novels and at other times lost in the discussions of some esoteric philosopher.

Evelyn found she particularly enjoyed those times when her young husband would share in his intellectual pursuits, prompting discussions about the topic. And Evelyn found she was easily a match for her husband's responses as their discussions sometimes found them on differing conclusions. Those were stimulating nights, and exhausting. But Evelyn enjoyed the discussions over ideas and philosophies.

Yet, Bob Casey was hardly an inspiring partner, often taciturn and retiring, making for boring evenings as he was lost in his books. He usually urged her not to turn off the couple's only radio, a table-top Zenith, after the 6 p.m. news programs, refusing to listen to the many comedies like Fibber McGee and Bob Hope and others who populated the radio dials of the era.

Many evenings then, after the dishes were done, Evelyn moved to Merritt's tiny bedroom where she had set up a small sewing machine. She was forever making dresses or skirts for herself or for the daughters of one of her girl friends, scavenging for scraps of cloth, and developing some exciting dresses.

Since her marriage, Evelyn had refused to let Merritt wear dresses or skirts, seriously seeking to wean him off of his girlish mannerisms and enjoyments.

*****
Evelyn found the evenings she spent in Merritt's room to be one of the loveliest moments in her young married life; she loved designing and creating dresses for Donna Mae, the soon-to-be seven-year-old daughter of her closest friend, Louise Lemieux, who lived across the alley from Swenson's shop.

The two young women had become nearly inseparable since they discovered each other while hanging wash out. To help cement their friendship, Merritt and Donna Mae played together in harmony, echoing their mothers' own closeness.

“Your Merritt sure seems to enjoy Donna Mae's dolls,” commented Louise early in their friendship as they watched the two youngsters play together.

“He's always loved playing with dolls,” Evelyn explained, “Maybe because of those years I spent with Mrs. Buckner, Her daughters loved playing with him when he was small; one even dressed him as a girl sometimes.”

“Didn't that bother you?”

“No, Louise, not at first, but now that he's in school I'm worried about it. 'fraid he'll get teased or beat up.”

“Yes, Evie, in these times you gotta teach boys to fight back,” her friend volunteered.

“I don't know about that, Louise, but he should be more of a boy, I agree. Bob is working on doing that.”

“Yes, I see him tossing a ball with Merritt in the alley sometimes.”

“Bob's about to lose patience with the boy, though. He seems to not be able to pick up the skills to throw or catch a ball easily,” Evelyn said.

Louise laughed, nodding her head. “I think my Donna Mae is better at it.”

“That's what Bob said.”

It was a warm summer day, and the two were sitting on Louise's back stoop drinking lemonade, watch Merritt and Donna Mae play with the dolls on a blanket spread on the lawn in shade under an ash tree.

“The children do look so lovely playing there,” Louise offered.

“They play so well together,” Evelyn replied. Privately, however, she was thinking they both looked like little girls, and that maybe Merritt might have easily been the prettiest of the two.

She watched them, both of them about the same size and body structure. With Merritt's longish hair, partly due to the fact that she hated to spend 10 cents for a child's haircut with money so tight, and also due to her joy in seeing how pretty her young son could look.

The two youngsters had two ragdolls, and were playing a game in which they were going shopping and trying on imaginary clothes.

“Now Maryann,” she overheard Merritt say to the doll he was handling. “This nice spring dress would look so nice on you.”

“My Jane, has a nice dress too,” they heard Donna Mae respond, speaking of her doll.

“Oh yes, Jane has a nice dress. I like the taffeta dresses.” Merritt said.

“My, your Merritt seems to know so much about dresses,” Louise volunteered.

Evelyn reddened a bit. “Well he watches me sew a lot,” she explained.

“He's sure a lovely child, Evelyn.”

“I've got a lovely dress for your Donna Mae,” Evelyn said. “I'm just about done with it.”

“Really, Evie. You didn't have to do that?”

“I wanted to Louise. You've been such a good friend and I know that Donna Mae's birthday is coming up and I wanted something for her. Besides, I had the cloth laying around.”

“That's so so sweet of you,” Louise said.

“I'll need to do a final fitting perhaps on the weekend.”

“Oh, we'll be gone for a week, visiting my parents in Chicago.”

“Darn,” Evelyn said. “I'll just wait 'til you're back.”

“Why not put it on Merritt?” Louise said. “Their about the same size and that should give you an idea how it'll fit.”

“Oh I couldn't do that? I'm trying to stop him wearing dresses.”

Louise paused. “Just an idea! Well, it'll have to wait until we get back.”

*****
Two nights later, Merritt stood next to his mother as she worked the sewing machine on Donna Mae's new dress.

“That dress is lovely,” the boy said. “Donna Mae will look adorable in it.”

Evelyn nodded yes, as she completed stitching lace long the hem. Her mind wandered now, reflecting on the words Merritt used: “lovely” and “adorable.” What young boy would use such girlish words? And, yet, her son used them easily and naturally.

When she finished the dress, she looked at Merritt: “What do you think, honey?”

“Oh,” the boy jumped in excitement. “She'll just love it.”

Evelyn watched the boy as he pranced about the room in happiness. She was so pleased her young son seemed to care about other people and wish them happiness. An idea popped into her head.

“You want to see how it looks on a pretty girl?” she asked.

“Oh yes, mommy. Yes.”

“Let's make you all pretty and see how it fits on you. OK?”

“Mommy, can I? Really, can I wear it?”

“Oh you and Donna Mae are about the same size. Let's see.”

“Oh mommy, I love you.”

Before they put on the dress, Evelyn gave the boy a bath, including all the bubbles; she brushed his long hair briskly so that it turned up at the ends, making him look so cute.

Evelyn had been saving a pair of cotton panties in her drawer for just such an occasion. They were pink, with tiny light blue and green angels flitting about. She had the cleaned up, pinkish skinned boy, now scented sweetly ready for the dress.

He held his arms up for his mother to place the dress down over his head, standing still and straight.

She tied the bow on the back; it was a light blue sleeveless summer dress that went to mid-thigh, and had an open neck.

“It's a little loose on me, mommy,” he said.

“That's OK, I think Donna Mae is a little bigger than you. My, oh my, you look pretty.

“Mommy, can I have a dress like this? Mommy, please.”

“Oh honey,” she said, taking the boy in her arms and hugging him. “You're a boy, dear, and boys don't wear dresses.”

Tears began to form in the boy's eyes, and Evelyn brushed his soft, sweet face and touched his light blonde hair.

“Why can't I be a girl, mommy?”

“Well, God made you a boy, honey. So you must act like a boy.”

“I don't feel like a boy mommy.”

Evelyn clutched her son tightly, and she began to sob too. He was such a perfect little girl, she mused.

“Now, now, dear, we mustn't cry, or else our tears will stain Donna Mae's dress.”

“Am I pretty mommy?”

“Yes, honey, as pretty as any girl in town.”