It was like driving through fog - which just about described my life, not to mention my brain. But it wasn't fog, it was smoke. Smoke from the wildfires about twenty miles from my home at the last report. Smoke that obscured the sun that was just starting to rise somewhere off in the east. Smoke that had diverted my red-eye flight, making me find a puddle jumper to a small airport that shall remain nameless because I was too worn out to bother remembering the name. Smoke that made me rent a car and drive way too far to get home. Since the rental had a Bluetooth connection I hooked up my smartphone and listened to my playlist on the drive, which turned out to be a big mistake.

I had been in that supposedly magic city on the Hudson all the way across the country to settle the details of turning the family business into a publicly held corporation. It took a lot of time and I had to put on a stinking suit in order to get all the lawyers and accountants to take me seriously. Even though I wasn't interested in running the business, I was determined that the people that made their living from my father's hard work were still going to make a good living with him gone. So there was some creative financing, some looks of shock from the high-flyer types, and some hastily concealed smiles from the people who had been doing the day-to-day running of the company.

In the end, the employees had majority control and would keep the family business running and profitable so that I could sit back and collect dividends on my stock. Sure, I could have just sold it off to some hedge fund psycho and made a bundle, but that's not going to happen on my watch.

I'm sure I'm not the first son who hasn't wanted to inherit the family business - I'm an artist and only take enough interest in the business side of things to stay solvent - but I still had the niggling feeling I had disappointed the Old Man, even though he had been one of my biggest supporters as I made my own path in the world. I'll fill you in on the other reasons for that niggling feeling in due time.

The Old Man was really an old man when he died, ninety-seven to be exact. Still a driving force in the business to his dying day, which made me smile a bit as I reminisced about him. He never slowed down, kept on doing what he loved far past the time when any rational being could be expected to have taken his ease. That includes siring me - I'm thirty one years old which, if you do the math, means that the Old Man sired me at the age of sixty-six.

Family gossip claims he wore out his first wife, but his second wife - that's my Mom - never complained. Even though the Old Man was twice her age when they married, when I was old enough to recognize what that smile meant after they left their bedroom he must have been doing something right. Maybe someday I'll find someone like that, but so far…

I don't think he wore Mom out, but she did pass on well before he did, leaving me the sole heir. With the pile of money I now had in the bank I could probably spend the rest of my life without a nine-to-five job if I lived conservatively. Well, that and moved away from California where the price of land was going crazy and the taxes were following. Maybe the southwest, Georgia O'Keefe seemed to be inspired by the area. Maybe I would be, too. Since I don't have a nine-to-five job that suits me perfectly; my job is pretty much ideal for my life.

I finally pulled into the driveway and wrinkled my nose at the smell of smoke that had been somewhat filtered by the car's air conditioning. Yup, the wind was still blowing, but so far away from my house and toward the flames. I wasn't all that nervous, but with all the fires this year I did have some concerns. Those concerns flew away as I approached the front door and saw the package with Amazon's smiling arrow on it. The order that I had made in New York had arrived and I could hardly wait.

All my fatigue vanished in a flash, I opened the door, dumped my suitcase and brought in the package. Setting it on the table I started stripping off my by-now smokey clothes and headed for the shower. I was going to spend the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying my new toys.

Soon, washed, waxed, conditioned and shorn I padded my otherwise naked body to the kitchen in my bunny slippers. Carefully plying a sharp knife I opened the package to remove my brand new, Hollywood-professional-grade glue-on breast forms. Hey, if you have money you can spring for such things without too much guilt.

Which is where the niggling voice of the Old Man came from. I doubt he would have been able to appreciate my need for the feminine, to wear the clothes and dream of life as a woman. My ancestors had graciously gifted me with the proper DNA to be smaller than your average modern male and to have a relatively hairless body. Not entirely hairless, but good enough to go for a few days without having to trim my blonde hair.

It may sound silly, but I do my most creative work when I'm wearing women's clothes. Really.

So OK, it sounds disturbingly close to "I do my most creative work when I'm stoned." You've all heard it from someone you know if you haven't lived in a cave for the last few decades, and just shaken your head at the gloppy mess your friend presents as proof of his (or her) creativity. The stoner may think he's being creative, but those outside the haze of his doobie have different ideas. In my own defense, I can say that my work sells well enough that I can pay the mortgage and keep eating, so I must still be connected to the real world.

When the muse hits me I can stay dressed for days at a time - there was one period when she overwhelmed me and I went eighteen days before the cupboard was bare and I had to go out for groceries. That time I almost went out without changing, but I just couldn't get up the nerve.

It didn't take long to read the directions, spread the glue and carefully apply my new forms over my freshly-shaved chest. Shivering slightly, I lay there while they warmed up, feeling the delicious weight of what I hoped to be as close to real breasts I could find short of surgery. Counting one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi in my head until I reached three hundred (I'm easily amused) the five minutes passed and I sat up. Whoah! I was going to have to learn to compensate for the new balance of my upper body. The color of the forms came pretty darn close to my own skin, so I set about filling and blending the edges with the concealer. That's easier said than done! It took a couple of tries, but finally I was satisfied with the results. I doubted anyone was going to be sticking their nose in my boobs closely enough to notice the edge of the form. In fact, there wasn't going to be anybody seeing me at any range while I was dressed up. I had a big closet, but I stayed in it while I let my creative juices flow.

It was hard to stop admiring my new cleavage, but eventually I stood up and went to my lingerie drawer to remove the bright yellow plunging bra that had been waiting for the time when I had my new boobs. Damn, it felt good to snug the cups over my breasts and slide the straps over my shoulders. Reaching back, I snapped the snaps and shimmied a bit to settle things in place. I don't know how long I stared at the lace surrounding my very own cleavage, but it must have been quite a while. The surge of adrenaline that the package prompted was starting to fade.

I brushed my hair into a more feminine style (I do have it cut to be able to do it this way) and found a necklace to hang between my breasts. I do like the sound to that: my breasts! A pair of dangly blue cut glass earrings in my ears, a couple of bangles on my wrists and things were looking pretty good.

In celebration of my newly created breasts I figured it was worth strapping on my gaff to keep the lines of my dress clean, so I pushed and poked until things were in place. Sliding up the matching yellow lace panties I went for broke and rolled some real stockings into place attached them to a red garter belt, slid my feet into a pair of blue high heels and slid a yellow sundress over my body. It settled nicely into place and I spun around before the mirror to let the hem flare out as I turned. I was in heaven. Giving my cleavage one last admiring glance, I settled into an armchair with a book, prepared to luxuriate in my femininity for the rest of the day.

I awoke to a flickering red light, confused at waking up from a sleep I had not planned. The odor of smoke was much stronger, even inside. Red light? I jumped up, almost falling as I still wasn't used to my new feminine balance or the rather high-heels on my feet and ran to the window.

Looking out the window I saw the tree in the next yard aflame. Damn! The fire was here!

Out! Got to get out now! Jesus, I'm dressed up, I can't go out! Don't be stupid, get out! I barely had the presence of mind to grab my pants off the bed and fish the keys out of the pocket as I ran to the door. The fire was behind me, so I slid in the car, heedless of how my skirt slid up, jammed the keys in the ignition and cranked.

Back up, stomp on the accelerator and down the street. The neighborhood was deserted - I must have slept through the evacuation warning. Heading for the highway I found my way blocked by a wall of fire. Jam on the brakes, do the fastest three point turn on record and out the back way. These damn heels ware a pain for driving, but I wasn't going to stop to take them off. The way was clear and I made it to the highway, joining a good bit more traffic. Turning on the radio I was told to head to the next big town for shelter, so off I went. So did every other blessed car in California, or at least that's what it looked like.

I had calmed down a bit by the time I reached the shelter, but it was obvious there was no more room. A cop at the entrance was directing folks to the next available place, and he didn't even blink at me. I guess I was good enough to pass, at least sitting behind the wheel.

What was I going to do when I stopped? Here I was, dressed to the nines and not a stitch of male clothing other than a sad looking pair of suit pants. I had damn well better find some of the creativity I dressed up for, and find it fast!

The evening took on an aura of a waiting line to enter hell. Smoke and confusion. So many people driven from their homes that the hotels and motels were filled, the shelters were jammed and nobody knew what was happening. Finally someone, damned if I can remember who, told me that one of the big-box stores was letting people set up a tent village next to it. No way I was up to driving any farther, I was exhausted. No way I was going to check into a motel dressed like this and with no ID to match my appearance. I found the store and there were a goodly number of tents on the land nearby. OK, with all my newly acquired wealth I could afford a tent, an air mattress and a sleeping bag. I just hoped there were any left in the store.

I entered the big glass doors with my wallet in hand, and realized I needed a purse before anything else. Was it stupid to agonize over which purse I wanted to have when I was coping with being suddenly homeless and very publicly transformed into a woman? I suppose agonizing over accessories was part of being a woman, so I was certainly in character.

Feeling the weight of my new purse (blue leather with an elephant on the side) the sporting goods area looked like locusts had swept through and eaten everything in their path. There were two twelve-man tents left - overkill but I didn't particularly care. I didn't particularly care if anyone would be goggling at the sight of a woman hefting a big tent into her shopping cart, I just wanted to go to sleep. I found one of those queen size air mattresses that were up on a folding frame so I wasn't going to have to crawl up off the ground every time I needed to pee and headed for the sleeping bags. Once more, the only thing left was a set of double bags intended for a couple to share during their wilderness adventure. I wasn't going to be going to the wilderness, but I sure was having an adventure.

As I headed to the checkout it occurred to me that I had completely ignored how I was dressed in my urgency to find some way to spend the night. Not only that, but no one had so much as given me a second look, other than one guy who seemed to be more interested in my cleavage than me. So naturally I started to get all nervous and feeling like I was the object of everyone's attention. I guess all those years of practice at home, the hours in front of a tape recorder practicing my feminine voice instead of working on a paying project must have paid off.

You can only panic for so long, and I didn't have the resources to sustain a panic very long. I came down to earth and realized I was going to need some clothes and toiletries for the next day. With my new forms firmly glued on and the remover probably an ash-encrusted pile of melted plastic in my house, I was going to be getting a crash course in femininity.

You damn well better be as creative as you think you are, girl!

So the cart filled with a few outfits; I had to be satisfied with only one dress and one skirt as modern women just didn't go for skirts like crossdressers do. The selection of dresses and skirts was pretty sparse, and their buyers had some very different ideas of what's flattering to a woman than I did, but I was a beggar and not a chooser right then.

I did find a few nice bras and panties, at least my underwear would feed my fantasies. And flats! No way was I going to spend the day in high heels wandering around a refugee camp.

Food - something quick now and I could hit one of the many fast food places within walking distance once I was set up. Walking in my flats, dammit!

Oh yeah, a water bottle - no make that two because I was going to need somewhere to put the water after my body was done with it in the middle of the night. What the heck were all those people going to do when they needed to use a bathroom? That could get obnoxious real fast!

For that matter, what were the people that didn't have my resources going to do? I had just spent several hundred bucks on temporary shelter and clothing. Not everybody could do that. The next few days were going to be interesting. So I availed myself of the store's facilities, only grimacing for a moment as I entered that forbidding door with a skirted icon on it, and exited much relieved and undiscovered.

I found an open spot and set up the tent, gladly accepting the help of a few of my new neighbors. Seems a woman in a sundress can find help pretty easily, eh? We were all pretty shell-shocked at that point. There wasn't much conversation since we were all pretty busy taking care of our immediate needs.

Oh damn! I forgot batteries for the blower-upper for my air mattress, so I once again made my way into the store to correct the problem. Then I realized I hadn't thought of a pillow, so I found a couple of nice memory foam pillows and bought them, too. Somehow, when I fantasized about setting up housekeeping as a woman this little scenario hadn't even made the top fifty.

Eventually I was set up, but as the light was fading I realized I needed a flashlight of some kind. I bet the big-box was going to be an empty box by tomorrow morning.

That's how my first meal as a woman in the big, bad world was a Big Mac, fries and a coke. I threw caution to the winds and had an hot fudge Sunday for dessert. With peanuts! Don't forget the peanuts.

By the time I got back to my tent, things were a little more calm. I spent some more time getting to know my new neighbors. Unlike me, most of them had been listening to the radio and had time to load their valuables and camping stuff before leaving home, so they were far better prepared than I for homelessness.

Jet lag, sleep deprivation and stress finally combined and I said goodnight, took off my dress but left the bra in place to hold my forms securely and gratefully unstrapped the gaff to don my new nightgown. I had another moment of sadness thinking of all the wonderful clothes that were now probably ashes, including my favorite pink nightgown. I suppose I should be grateful for having made it through the day as a completely unprepared woman, but I really loved that nightgown!

Morning. Dull, smoke-filled, green-tinted morning light filtering through the tent. No way I was going to do any makeup under this light, but then I didn't have anything other than cold cream and a pile of soggy tissues I had used last night before crawling into bed. So I put the empty water bottle I had bought to good use, got out the baby wipes and deodorant, and prepared to greet the day.

Hoping I wasn't being foolish I selected the dress I had bought last night as being the easiest to cope with, briefly apologized to my mother for even thinking of wearing sneakers and a skirt together and went out into the gloom. The unhappy cries of a very young baby returned my greeting. No matter how tough you think you have it there's always someone who has it worse. About ten feet away, struggling to sit on a what must have been a diaper bag while she tried to breast feed her infant, was a bedraggled woman. Without even thinking about it I went over and put my arm around the woman to steady her.

"That doesn't seem to be working very well. Come over to my tent and use my bed, it's more private and your child will be the happier for it."

"Oh, thank you! This has been so hard."

"We're all in this together, we have to help each other."

"Tell that to the jerk that got me pregnant and took off."

"If he took off I doubt I can find him to give him a piece of my mind."

"Neither can the marshals so I can't get any child support."

Sometimes I'm downright ashamed to be a man, not that I could reveal that at the moment.

"My boss has been a gem, she kept my health insurance going even when I had to take off time for the baby." She was babbling in her nervousness. "With the unemployment I'm just barely making it on my own, and now this!"

"Worry about that later. Let's be sure your baby is taken care of and then we can see how you can get some help. Maybe your family?"

"My parents won't have anything to do with me because I'm a fallen woman."

"Sounds like Christians who really live their religion. I'm sure Jesus would approve."

She seemed to appreciate my sarcasm. Who would have thought I'd become a sarcastic bitch?

"I sometimes think they have a cross up their asses," she giggled.

"Well, if they wanted to send you through the fiery gates of hell, they could have left the rest of us out of it!"

"You're bad!"

"You know, I think we're going to get along just fine."

Keeping my arm around her I helped her rise and led her to my overly large tent. I sat her on the edge of the bed and went back for the diaper bag. It seemed like a good idea to be elsewhere while she bared her breast for the kid.

My littlest guest had finally found what she (I assumed she from the pink that we were all female in here) was looking for and was fulfilling nature's design. I sat beside my guest and again put my arm around her for support. Funny how I would have been scared to do that as my usual self, but as the woman I had suddenly become my overture was welcomed."

"Oh, thank you. She's getting heavy."

"I can only imagine. I'm Norma, by the way."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I'm Barb and this is Nadine."

"I doubt any of us are exactly pleased to be meeting each other just now, but I am glad to know you."

"What are we going to do? We've lost everything! I haven't been able to eat, all my money burned up with my purse. All our clothes, the baby's clothes. I don't even have any more diapers!"

"Like I said, we help each other. I was at least able to grab my wal- uh, purse as I ran so I could get this tent. We can stop in the store on our way over to Micky D's for breakfast and find some diapers."

"You can't just…"

"Certainly I can. I can help, you need help - it fits perfectly. When Nadine finishes filling up we can take care of the inevitable result. It would get pretty stinky in here if we didn't."

"But…

"You'll notice I had to buy a twelve man tent because that's all they had left. It should fit three women quite admirably. Likewise I have two sleeping bags and two pillows, as single items were all gone and there were only sets left. We're can be room-mates for the duration, Barb."

I had to be nuts. Did I really offer to share my bed with a complete stranger who thinks I'm a woman. Maybe I better put that gaff on before I go to bed. Cleaned up she would be quite pretty, not that she wasn't attractive in a rather disheveled way right now. Now all we had to do is figure out how to clean up.

"Looks like she's satisfied. Would you like to try and clean up a bit before we eat?"

"God would I love that. I feel like I've been dragged through the dirt."

"I was thinking more along the lines of being trapped in a real-smoke Texas BBQ, but I don't smell quite so nice as a rack of ribs. I have some baby wipes and a towel. Do you have a hairbrush?"

"No, just what was in the diaper bag."

"You can use mine if you don't mind sharing."

"If you don't mind me getting your hairbrush greasy, I'm game."

"I think that comes later unless we can find a shower. We're all going to get pretty gamy."

She tried valiantly to brush her hair and wipe off the worst of the dirt while I waited, holding Nadine in my arms. How could it be that less than one day after being thrust out in public as a woman I was holding a baby to my bosom? I loved it! The little darling was making funny faces in her sleep, having filled her belly.

"That's as good as I'm going to get. Thank you so much!"

"Thank you for letting me hold Nadine. She's a sweetheart."

"Tell me that when she's cranky. I'll be glad to give to you when that happens."

"I'm sure we'll deal with it. Let's get those diapers."

As we left the tent, a large flatbed truck pulled up with several port-a-potties on it. At least we weren't going to have to dig latrines behind the bushes, and I wouldn't have to overcome that sinking feeling going through the lady's room door. I would have to overcome the usual odor of a port-a-potty, though. I hoped they would be cleaned regularly.

 

As the day progressed the camp began to take on some semblance of order. The Red Cross arrived and set up a kitchen. People seemed to accept me as Norma without question, and I soon found myself helping in the kitchen, setting up tables and various serving trays, setting out plates and silverware, helping serve the simple but filling fare the charity had prepared. No matter how tasty the food might have been, the smoke in the atmosphere was the predominant flavor. Many of the refugees were wearing masks for the smoke, including myself. Not only did it help my breathing, but I was feeling my lack of makeup acutely. Whenever things slowed down I found time to be nervous about my being a woman; much as I loved the feeling of being Norma before god and everybody I was still concerned that someone would notice I was a fraud.

Later in the afternoon a truck pulled up and started unloading donated clothes for those of us who had nothing to wear. All afternoon, I had been trying to figure out how to offer Barbara a shopping trip in the store. She was feeling her vulnerable state most acutely, but as with many people she didn't want charity. Sometimes having money is not the solution to all your problems.

I tried to hold back as the people began to sort through the donated clothing; many others needed it far more than I. I did spot a couple of outfits that would do for the baby, so I snagged them and took them over to my new friend, urging her to go over and see what she could find while I minded the baby.

We had promoted a small cloth to cover Nadine's face to help keep out the smoke, so I played peek-a-boo with her for a while until she tired of the game. I really enjoyed my time as a surrogate mother, despite the desperation inherent in our situation I was actually enjoying being Norma to everyone who met me.

Barb returned with a handful of clothes and a beaming smile.

"Put them in our tent," I told her. "We'll need to find a box and a blanket for this bundle of sweetness. Much as I'd love to hold her all night I don't think it's too practical."

"Are you sure? She still wakes up a couple of times each night, I don't want to disturb you. Maybe we can find…"

"Nonsense! Don't try to take my new friend away. You still get stuck being the source of all things milky, so I can just roll over and go back to sleep."

"You sound just like a man!"

"You have no idea, my dear. We're in this for the duration."

 

As time passed, Barbara and several of the women with small children had managed to set up a place for them to play and be entertained. Little Nadine was a hit with many of the younger children and had plenty of volunteer nursemaids at hand. Much as I was actually enjoying helping in the kitchen I missed holding Nadine in my arms. So when I wasn't doing anything else I played itsy-bitsy spider and row row row your boat with her.

Not that she was old enough to play along, but moving her arms and legs while singing seemed to please her. A grinning baby just melts your heart.

Then there were the older kids, who appreciated someone new taking an interest in them. Toys were pretty sparse in the nursery, but we played catch with the littler ones, word games with the older ones and got creative. Remember I told you that putting on women's clothes made me more creative? Another trip to big-box land and I got some coloring books and crayons, not to mention a whole bunch of blank paper. Helping the kids to draw was a big hit, as rewarding in its own way as creating my own art.

Speaking of my own art, I found the closest thing to a sketchbook I could and started setting life in the camp on paper. It was a compelling study in humanity, I needed to get it down and intended to something grand with it when I had a studio and quiet time once again.

After supper, I found time to go into the store and hit the cosmetics aisle. I was becoming concerned as to how long my beautiful new breasts would remain properly blended and bonded to my body. The high-end concealer was only a melted memory, so I had to hope I could find an adequate substitute. I also found some basic cosmetics for use when I could finally take off my mask. No sense trying to do makeup when a mask would be constantly rubbing it off.

Trying to repair your boob blending in a public restroom at a big-box store is a frustrating process, especially with the high traffic the emergency was generating. I managed it, but stopped in the ladies wear section for a couple of less revealing tops. I even bought a pink t-shirt with a kitten on it. Disgusting I fear, but selection was limited. I found a nightgown for Barbara, something that hadn't been available in the donated clothes. I just wouldn't tell her where it came from.

 

As the sun set we adjourned to our tent at what would normally been a ridiculously early hour, but we were tired and there was no artificial light. Well, actually the entire area was lit with garish artificial lights, but it didn't do too much good inside the tent. We spent some time arranging the boxes we had liberated from the food delivery and filling them with what clothes we now had.
Barb was delighted with the nightgown and immediately skinned out of the clothes and removed her underwear, plying her naked body with the baby wipes. I just sat there in shock, trying with all my might to remember I was just another woman sharing a tent with her.

Yeah, right! Her milk-swollen breasts were enormous. I was trying to decide if I was jealous or aroused as I tried not to stare at them in the green-tinted twilight.

We're all girls here, aren't we?

I was relieved when she slid the nightgown over her body. Screwing up my courage I followed suit, hoping my breasts were realistic enough to pass her inspection. I tried to casually remove my bra and toss it into our dirty clothes box after hers, then take my own turn with the baby wipes. Naturally, I left my panties on and covered myself with my own nightgown.

We lay there together on the queen air mattress with our sleeping bags open, as it was a reasonably warm night. I was contemplating the irony of having a lovely woman sharing my bed and being utterly unable to do what any man would surely be interested in doing. If I made it through this night I could be Norma anywhere at any time with complete assurance.

"Norma?"

"Yes?"

"What are we going to do?"

"Whatever it takes, Barb."

"But I haven't got any place to go. My lousy apartment is in ashes, my workplace burned down so I can't go back to work even when Nadine is weaned. I can't afford health insurance and I don't have any clothes or anything but what we got today. I'm scared, Norma."

"You should be, it's a scary situation. Do you know what it's like to wake up out of a sound sleep and see a tree burning twenty feet away from your window and a wall of flame on the horizon? I lived through that and I don't think anything can scare me ever again. I damned well almost drove into the fire on my way out and barely got to the highway ahead of the flames. My house must be gone, my studio, too. All my work is gone, except maybe some of the metal sculptures. They might be salvaged, I hope.

"We're going to get through this, really we are." I was trying to be positive for her and maybe I'd convince myself. "When I got home I was thinking about how I might have to leave California because of the taxes on my place were getting so high I couldn't afford to live there. Think this might be a sign from above that I oughta move?"

"If you do, pick somewhere without trees. You don't want to go through this again."

"I was thinking the southwest."

"I can only wish. I've never been anywhere."

"My old man thought travel was a requirement for any young ma - uh, person. As a budding artist I loved Georgia O'Keefe so I picked that area of the world to explore."

"So why are you in California?"

"My great-grandmother had a house here. It was perfect for a studio and I have a lot of clients in the area."

"Are you going to stay?"

"I don't know. I'm thinking this is the universe telling me I need to start a new life. I'll have to think about it a while. Right now I'm happy to be here with you."

"But we've only just met!"

"Like I said, a new life. Besides, I want to snuggle with Nadine as much as she'll let me."

"You just love me for my baby!"

"Darn, you figured it out."

"I thought I was in love once."

"The jerk?"

"Yeah, the jerk. I thought he loved me, I really did."

"That's tough. I've never been in love."

"What?"

"There are things about me you don't know, but I've never found anyone who considered me a good mate."

"I don't know which is worse, never having been in love or finding out what you thought was love wasn't anything of the kind."

"For me, being betrayed would be far worse. I'm reasonably happy on my own, but having my trust betrayed would be worse."

But here I was concealing something important from Barb while I pontificated.

"I don't know if I'll ever trust anyone again like I trusted the jerk. I kind of like calling him 'the jerk' so I don't have to say his name."

"Sounds like a plan. Since we haven't got any plans for the rest of our lives right now I'll take any plan we can get."

"Well, I sure wasn't planning on sharing a bed with a woman I just met when I woke up yesterday."

"So who was the woman sharing your bed yesterday?"

"Oh you! Her name was Nadine."

"If I wasn't afraid of squashing her I'd love to share the bed with her myself."

"You'll get your chance shortly. I usually feed her in bed."

"I'm glad you decided to nurse her even if it means I can't take a turn feeding her. These boobs are strictly non-functional."

Boy, was I the master - no mistress! - of understatement tonight!

"I might be persuaded to give up a two-o'clock feeding without too much trouble."

"And by three o'clock those pretty tits would be complaining."

"It's not fair, much as I love Nadine I can't wait until she sleeps through the night."

"She's what - three months?"

"Four."

"If we're still together when she starts to be weaned, I'll take a shift or two."

"You say that like we're going to get married or something. I guess same sex marriage is legal, now."

"Oh darling, this is so unexpected!" I swooned in my best Valley Girl voice. "We can share this glamorous life forever."

"Well, at least you can't get me pregnant again."

Danger! Danger ahead! Keep your big mouth shut!

"Don't make too many assumptions, there are things I haven't told you."

I never could take my own advice.

"Really, nobody can get me pregnant again, I had my tubes tied. The doctors warned me that another pregnancy could be a real problem. I'm RH negative and the jerk was RH positive. Besides, at the time I was sure I'd never want another man in my life."

"If it's not too personal, how did you get pregnant the first time? You don't seem like someone who would leave such things to chance."

"The usual way, he fucked me silly. He may have been a jerk but he was good in bed, and in the kitchen and in the back seat of the car and… His cock wasn't all that big but he sure knew how to use it."

"I get the picture. I didn't think you were into syringes and Petri dishes."

"Nope. I just opened wide and he made me say 'Ahhh!' and 'Oooh' and 'keep fucking!' "

"TMI Barb, TMI! The baby is listening."

"She was there at the time."

"I think there may have been some assembly required."

"I suppose there was."

"Maybe I should ask why you got pregnant."

"I wanted to get pregnant, Norma."

"Oh?"

"The jerk and I were having troubles and I had an attack of the romantic stupids. I thought if we had a baby we would get married and live happily ever after."

"Ouch!"

"Yeah, that about covers it. I should have known better."

"You aren't the first one to make that mistake. From what I gather my older half-sister did the same thing."

"You don't know for sure?"

When I say older I really mean older. My old man was in his sixties when he made my mother say 'Oooh' and 'Aaah' and assembled me. My sister was old enough to be my grandmother - she's been gone for almost ten years now."

"That's weird."

"There's a lot of weird in my life - nothing is as it seems."

"Norma, you're just so sweet. I don't know what I would do if you hadn't been so kind."

She rolled over and hugged me and I could feel the tears dripping. I did my best to remain platonic as I held her and rubbed her back while she sobbed."

"It's all going to work out, Barb. You're a wonderful mother, a wonderful woman and a wonderful friend. This whole situation sucks big time, but it gave me a new friend to cherish and made me an honorary aunt. I wouldn't trade that for the world."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get all emotional."

"No stoic shit allowed here, friend. Bawl your eyes out if you want."

"I don't want to wake the baby."

"I think it may be too late." There were fussy noises coming from the cardboard crib. "The young lady seems to have a breast fetish."

"So did her father."

"Shows he must have had some good qualities, I guess."

"Don't go overboard."

"I'm going to have to get us a chair so you can feed Nadine in comfort. I wonder if they have folding rocking chairs."

"You're too much."

"I suppose there's more to me than meets the eye. Feed the kid and stop with the flattery."

Until I got chased out of my home by the fury of nature I had pretty much taken the benefits of civilization for granted. If I wanted a drink I turned on the tap or raided the refrigerator for a soda. If I wanted a clean floor I got out the vacuum. If I was hungry I popped something in the microwave. If I was too lazy even for that I called for take-out. If I had a surge of energy I got off my padded ass and cooked something in the oven.

If I got creative after the sun set I turned on the light and created. If I wanted to look like a woman I could order whatever I wanted on line and look like I wanted.

That had all changed. When the sun went down there wasn't a convenient switch to flick and see the text on the book. For that matter, I couldn't recharge my e-book even if it wasn't a melted puddle of goo in the remains of the house. Which all goes to explain why I was up with the sun and helping out with the cooking in our communal kitchen. Barb was (hopefully) making up the sleep lost to a fussy Nadine. She was so deeply asleep I had been able to clean up and change my panties without fear of discovery. I was pleased my glue-on breasts seemed to be still securely attached, although I was starting to be bothered by itches I couldn't scratch. Sometime soon I was going to have to find a way to run a razor over my face, but damned if I could figure out how to do that in a lady's room. Maybe wearing a smoke mask was going to be a net benefit. Not problems I had anticipated when I got dressed a couple of days ago. Even so, I really couldn't regret living with a baby in a tent, but it does make for less than restful sleep.

The population of our little community seemed to have stabilized, the flow of new residents had slowed last night. We had no shortage of volunteers.

The ostensible male/female ration in the kitchen had begun to achieve a more even balance, but I was almost sure a couple of the guys were thinking about hitting on me. The whole process of showing your interest in a woman looks very different from this side of the gender gap. I was frankly amazed I had been able to carry off being a woman in public as far as I had gotten. While I had frequently fantasized about living as a woman, I had never really intended to do it. Besides, my fantasies were set in castles or mansions, not in a tent city wearing a mask against the smoky air.

Reality seldom matches your fantasies, I guess.

The fire must have moved off away from us, I was starting to hear eighteen-wheelers downshift as they hit the curve behind the store so traffic must be moving again. This gave me a bright idea. Whenever I had been in a truck stop in my travels I had noticed they had showers for the truckers who lived in their cabs for lord only knows how many weeks at a time. Baby wipes can only get you so far, I dearly wanted to have clean, hot water running over my body and I'm sure Barb was feeling the same. It would be worth the cost of a baby seat to make the drive to the nearest truck stop, and I could return the rental car and get my own vehicle at the same time. And replace my cell phone - I hadn't even thought about being phoneless in all the excitement, but I was sure there were a pile of messages waiting from friends worried about me.

Ought to be interesting getting the phone replaced looking like this, though. Maybe if I fluttered my lashes and stared soulfully in into the saleskid's face I could get away with it. It seems that cell phone store people are all geeky males whenever I go into one.

I seem to be drifting into a fantasy world again.

When the line had eased up I filled two plates and headed for our tent. I was becoming a regular housewife, serving my spouse breakfast in bed. Well, the old man wasn't too proud to do it when Mom was failing - how could I do less?

"Good morning, sunshine!" I greeted Barb. "Breakfast is served."

"You're too late, I'm serving breakfast myself."

Nadine was firmly latched onto Barb's breast, and Barb was sitting naked on the edge of the bed feeding the child. Tell me again just how I ended up in this situation.

"My, but we're informal this morning."

"The nightgown was soaked, she slept too long and I started leaking. Then she wasn't going to wait long enough for me to pee and I'm in danger of leaking from other places, the darling girl."

"Too bad I can't take over, but like I said my breasts are strictly non-functional."

"She's just about done. Can you take her while I go pee?"

"You better borrow my nightgown or you'll create quite a stir, not that there's anything objectionable about your body."

"Thanks!"

My nightgown was rather tight over her engorged breasts, but she was in a hurry. I happily held Nadine and made stupid noises to her. She responded with flatulence and I was soon changing her diaper. How can the milk go in a thin white liquid and come out a green disgusting mess? Yup, babies are magic, all right.

We were going to have to get some more garbage bags, between sponge baths and diapers they were going fast! At least the store was being nice about our filling up the trash bins so fast.

Barb returned and we consumed our coolish breakfasts and she unselfconciously got dressed while I held the baby and tried to think feminine thoughts. Some things in this life are harder than others. (And no, that wasn't an attempt at humor!) In any case, Barb was all for finding a shower and only put up a token resistance to me supplying a baby seat. There was a pretty good chance her car and baby seat were in far worse shape than we were.

"What's with the rental?" she asked as we got the car and removed our masks. It felt good not to breathe air as full of smoke as it was outside. I explained how I had just flown in from New York in a daze, which kept her entertained, although I did leave out the part about gluing on my breasts before getting dolled up.

"You live an interesting life, Norma."

"Far too interesting, lately. Remember that Chinese curse - May you live in interesting times?"

"I suppose I could do with a little less excitement. Poor Nadine must be awfully confused."

"She's not the only one. I think after we get ourselves clean we ought to sit down and think about just what we're going to do for the rest of our lives."

"We?"

"We can talk. It looks like both of us have no commitments and no real ties to anywhere. I kind of like being an aunt, so maybe we can still be a team for a while."

"Oh."

"I kind of liked being able to talk to you last night."

"Me too. It's been a long time since there was anyone to talk to."

"Exactly. Chance seems to have thrown us together, maybe we've been given a sign from above. It all boils down to just how crazy we both are."

"Beats running from the fiery gates of hell, doesn't it."

"You can say that again!'

Beats being…"

"Smartass!"

"Does my ass look too big to you?"

"Oh no! No way I'm going to go there. The Old Man taught me there are some questions you don't answer. That's one of them. On his death bed he said "Norm…a, never say anything to a woman about the size of her ass or her boobs."

Damn! That was close. I'm gonna have to watch myself.

"Jeez - that's what the jerk used to say when he wasn't being a jerk."

"You can find wisdom in the strangest places."

 

We stopped at a drug store for hair stuff, cosmetics and, of course, baby supplies. While she was looking I cornered the pharmacist and managed to get some surgical glue so I could keep my breasts attached when the time came. A girl's got to think ahead.

We paid our fee and waited for our showers to become available. CNN actually spent as much time agonizing over the destruction of California as it did covering the assholes in Washington. I think I saw a clip of my neighborhood as a helicopter flew over it, but all those square blocks of ashes were hard to identify. There were a whole lot of people who weren't going home ever again. I was just grateful to be alive and to have found a friend.

God, did the shower feel good! With lots of hot water and some very careful pulling I managed to detach my wonderful but itchy breast forms and clean both them and my body thoroughly. Even though my supposedly clean clothes still had a faint odor of smoke, it was delicious to be clean again. I would have to re-attach my forms before bed tonight, but for now my pink kitten t-shirt did an adequate job of showing my charms without revealing that they were made of silicone.

I was less thrilled with using the gaff again, but all I had left was a pair of jeans and I wasn't going to take any chances. I just hoped that the kind people in this world had donated a few more things to the camp so I could have something to wear tomorrow. We were going to have to make a pilgrimage to the laundromat sometime very soon.

So we spent the rest of the day going to the airport to retrieve my own car and stopping at the cellphone place to get a new phone. Barb tried to argue, but I replaced hers, too. Can you be a sugar daddy when your wearing a bra and sporting 36C tits? Besides, I got to play with Nadine while she went through the rigmarole of replacing her phone. We performed the ritual of calling each other and snapped each other's pictures to put in the contact lists.

 

Living in the camp soon became our new normal. There was a camaraderie in our shared hardship. Those who still had jobs to go to left during the day, those who didn't stayed and looked after kids or helped their neighbors. Friendships blossomed, a community developed.

The next couple of weeks became a blur. As one of the lucky ones with a car I spent a lot of time taking my fellow refugees places like banks and insurance offices and the auto bureau. All these places were overwhelmed and I realized just how lucky I had been to escape with my wallet. How would I have been able to replace my credit cards and licence dressed as I was? At least with modern electronic terminals I didn't have to worry that the name on the credit read Norman instead of Norma.

Barb and I spent hours in the car, phones plugged in and watching the elapsed time display click onward as we waited on hold trying to place a claim for our possessions that were up in smoke or trying to let friends and relatives know we were alive. Even if I was the last of my line and didn't have any relatives to call I had friends and clients to notify. Obviously my commissions were going to be late - it would take time to find and equip a new studio. One page of my sketchbook became filled with names and numbers as I tried to remember who I had promised what - and then find their numbers to call to apologize for missing my deadlines.

Then there was the Herculean task of trying to find someplace to live. You can't just 'go to the southwest' to live, you have to have a concrete destination with a house or apartment to live in. Fortunately, having spent the last few weeks with the power-suit crowd in the Big Apple, I knew who to call and they were happy to set their minions scurrying to find someplace in the nebulous southwest that suited my needs. I was overcome with a vision of myself in a skirted, dark, buttoned down, pinstriped power suit with about an acre of cleavage peeking from a frilly white blouse, clipboard in hand and directing my very own minions as they industriously did my bidding. I put the phone on speaker and grabbed my sketch pad to start drawing while I talked. Barb was going to love this one.

 

After a couple weeks in the camp we had both collapsed into the bed after being sure Nadine had a well-filled tummy.

"Barb?"

"Yes?"

"I need to talk seriously for a moment."

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking, which usually gets me into a lot of trouble."

"More trouble than living in a homeless camp with a jobless woman and crabby baby?"

"Could be."

"This does sound serious."

"It is and I am, but I have to warn you there's a catch."

"And what serious idea doesn't have a catch?"

"That's what I like about you, you catch on real quick."

"Screw the flattery, what's the deal?"

"My entire old life went up in smoke along with my house, I have nothing holding me here and I think I'm going to be moving on. I'd like you to go with me."

"What!?"

"I'd like you and Nadine to go with me. You said your apartment and your job are a total loss. I can do my art just about anywhere, and I think I have some connections so that you can get a new job when you're ready to let Nadine go to daycare. I'm not talking charity or being a sugar-mamma, for lack of a better term. I really like you and Nadine and I think you would make my new life much richer than if I was on my own."

"I... I… don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. I need to explain the catch."

"There's always a catch."

"Right, and it's a big one. Maybe laying here in bed with you is the exact wrong place to say it, but I need to be honest with you."

"You're making me nervous, Norma."

"I'm more than a little nervous myself. No - I'm a lot nervous. Remember, I'm still the same person you trusted to share my tent and that isn't going to change, but you need to know I was born a man."

Silence. I supposed that beats screaming or horror.

"You're serious."

A statement, not a question.

"I am. I've been dressing as a woman for many years, but the fire forced me to leave home without thinking about what I was wearing. If it wasn't so damn scary I would be having the time of my life living as a woman."

"You're a man."

Another flat statement.

"My body is male. I'm not so sure about my brain."

"You weren't kidding when you said your tits were non-functional."

"High grade silicone, very realistic. I don't think you were able to tell, were you?"

"Uh, no. Although that explains why your chin was a little fuzzy this morning."

"I was starting to get nervous about that."

"I was studying you pretty closely this morning while you were sleeping. There's a kindness in your face even when you're asleep."

"Thank you. If you don't want to share a bed I'll sleep on the floor."

"I have to ask. You still have your penis?"

"I do, and it's fully functional. I hasten to say I only use it with a willing partner. I never want to be known as 'the jerk' "

"I suppose if you were able to control yourself seeing me completely naked I can trust you with sleeping bags between us."

"There's always zippers."

"Which you can keep zipped. Most men have had practice."

"So we have, at least those of us who aren't jerks."

"Jeez - I guess I was way off base when I was talking about gay marriage a while back, wasn't I?"

"I suppose I could play either role - I've always dreamed about being a bride, you know."

"That's funny - so have I. It didn't work out too well."

"You're taking this pretty calmly."

"The baby's sleeping."

"It's more than that."

"Yeah, it sure is. I was starting to trust you. I'm glad you decided to tell me before things went too far."

"Believe me, I had nothing else in mind other than helping someone who needed a safe place to land. When I first saw you I was completely in girl-mode and just wanted to help"

"You know, I really believe that."

"Thanks. I don't want to abuse your trust ever again."

"So what do I call you now?"

"Norma. The ID says 'Norman' but I don't intend to be Norman for quite some time. I want to enjoy living as Norma until it becomes normal. Besides, his clothes are up in smoke and I'm not buying two new wardrobes."

"You have a ways to go as a woman if you don't want to go shopping."

"Sexist. I like shopping for Norma, Norman is boring. Grubby clothes for working, a suit to impress the customers and the shopping is done. I never had to think of matching colors and designs as Norman."

"Sad. I never thought of how deprived men were when it came to dressing."

"Believe me, every crossdresser on the planet has given it intense consideration. I suspect even some poor sod in a grass skirt on a Pacific island agonizes over what kind of grass he's weaving."

"Don't forget the coconut-shell bra!"

"An absolute essential. I'm going to miss my bra collection."

"There goes another girly stereotype - showing me your clothes and doing a fashion show."

"You're taking this awfully calmly."

"I still can't think of you as anyone else than my new friend Norma."

"I don't intend to be anyone else but your friend Norma."

"Then Norma, I need a hug from my friend."

"Easiest thing in the world."

Hugging her was easy, letting go a bit harder.

"Do you want me to leave so you can get into your nightgown?"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather do without. I always sleep in the raw, but I was trying to spare your sensibilities. And since you've already seen me you don't have to leave."

"The irony is getting rather thick in here."

"I think that may be the smoke."

"I always sleep in a nightgown, helps to make me feel more feminine."

"You sure do look feminine."

"I try. Do you want to leave while I change?"

"Fair's fair. I get to look, too."

"Your funeral."

I stood up and skinned out of my jeans, leaving my panties and gaff in place. Removing the shirt and I removed my forms, it being one of the days I had let my skin breathe. Unsnapping my bra was unnerving, but I did it."

"Those look positively obscene in you hand."

"You want to feel? They feel pretty much like the real thing."

"Uhhh. Oh hell! Why not?"

I handed one to her.

"I was right, they feel positively obscene. They're still warm! How did you end up with all that cleavage?"

"They glue on and I use concealer to hide the seams. They almost feel like they're a part of me once they're attached, at least for a few days. Then I have to take them off and let my skin breathe for a while."

"Sounds complicated."

"Not really, Some of us just have to suffer a little more than others for beauty."

"Smartass. Not to be indelicate, but I'm going to go pee before I take off my clothes."

"No problem. Not to be indelicate, but there's a pee bottle over there with the blue cap that I used the first night. If you feel comfortable with using it, it's available in the middle of the night."

"I suppose you have a natural advantage using it in the dark."

"That I do."

"I'll be back in a minute."

"I'll watch Nadine and then I can take my turn. Guess I'll have to put my bra back on so I can display the proper contours on my way to the potty."

"Life with you is going to be interesting."

"You want to come with me?"

"I think I do. Let me sleep on it."

"Done!"

Our luck ran out a few days after I had revealed my true sex to Barb and the beautiful weather gave way to rain. On the good side it cleared the smoke, on the bad side everything was a soggy, cold mess. Have you ever spent days on end in a gloomy tent with a four month old baby? Nadine had become the love of my life, but she was still a four month old baby and when she was unhappy everybody was unhappy.

After a couple of hours of shivering, we just looked at each other and zipped our sleeping bags together and cuddled for the warmth, bouncing the baby between us. Eventually Nadine slept and we held each other, drifting into that nebulous state between awake and asleep as we whiled away the hours listening to the rain patter on the tent.

I guess we made it firmly to the asleep side of things, because I awoke with her back pressed into my breasts and my hand on her breast. She murmured softly and snuggled closer, then began to unbutton her blouse. A long, lazy time later we had become lovers. My only regret was my silicone breasts had no sensation, but we were content to lie there in the afterglow and enjoy being together. We hadn't even waked the baby.

 Eventually those minions on the other side of the country found a place in Flagstaff that might meet our needs, so one fine day we moved our meager belongings into the car, gave the tent to a family that needed more room and tearfully headed for Arizona. It was hard to leave the friends we had made in the camp, but the powers-that-be had decreed that it couldn't stay forever and would have to be broken down sometime soon.

Road trip! Those words still held magic and I was pleased to share the road with my new-found daughter and her mother. That I was going to be sharing that motherhood with them was a dream come true. We drove off into the sunrise to start a new life with Van Morrison's Brand New Day on the box and hope in our hearts.