The Secret Gift By Teek © 2021 Chapter 5 Returning Home

Grandma’s car pulled into our driveway. My heart was racing, and if it weren’t for Jilly holding my hand, I would already be running away from the house. I know mom said it would be safe for me to come home, but I still don’t know if I can trust her. Grandma said Grandpa was at the house and would make sure Dad wasn’t there. That is the only reason I agreed to this, but Dad wasn’t my only problem. Mom didn’t want to beat me, but she didn’t want me to be Suzy.

“It will be okay, Suzy,” Jilly said, squeezing my hand. “Amanda and I will be right there with you to help.”

I looked and saw that I was hugging my doll Amanda tight. I knew I was too old for dolls, but I didn’t want to put her down.

With Jilly holding my hand and Amanda hugged in my other arm, we followed Grandma into the house.

“Hi Suzy and Jilly,” Mom said as we entered the house.

Mom hugged Jilly and tried to hug me, but I refused.

“Suzy,” Mom backed away from me. “Grandma and Grandpa helped me make some changes to your room. Why don’t you go down and see if you like it?”

Jilly was all excited about this and dragged me down the hall. I was sure it would be done up with a football or baseball theme. I didn’t want to see what I would be forced to live in.

Entering the room, I was surprised. The bed had a light purple bedspread with pink pillows. The curtains matched the bed, and some fuzzy pink and purple pillows were on the window seat. The bookcase was empty, and I didn’t see any boy things in the room. It looked nice.

“We didn’t get rid of anything,” Mom said, coming in behind us. Everything is in some tubs in the garage if you want any of it.”

“Probably won’t,” I quietly commented.

Grandpa came in with my new clothes and the books I got from Mary, “The closet and drawers are empty, so you have plenty of space to put all of this stuff.”

I looked at the closet, and it was indeed empty, just the hangers on the rods.

Grandma put the ballerina doll on top of my dresser, and I sat down on my bed. Looking at my Teddy, I picked her up, “Teddy, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is Teddy.”

“Are you going to tell Amanda your Teddy’s name,” Mom asked?

I looked at Mom with a strange look. I hadn’t called Teddy by her name for years. Dad and Mom never approved of the name I had given her. Looking at Mom, I saw that she was smiling at me.

“Amanda, meet Tammy,” I said before looking at Mom to see her reaction. I had always been told boys weren’t supposed to have girl stuffed animals, but Mom wasn’t complaining this time.

“You can do whatever you want with your room,” Mom said with what was obviously a fake smile. “I thought this would help show you that I am trying to accept this new you.”

“This isn’t a new thing,” Grandma pointed out. “I have seen Suzy’s girly girl side since she was a baby.”

No one said anything for a bit. Eventually, Mom broke the silence, “Suzy, because you only got one present for Christmas, there are now a few more gifts under the tree.”

“Presents!” Jilly shouted with glee.

“No, Jilly,” Mom explained. “These are just for Le . . . Suzy.”

“That’s okay,” Jill brushed off the correction. “Sisters share.”

The adults all laughed as we headed for the living room. I sat down on the couch, with Grandma on one side and Mom on the other. Jilly brought me gifts one at a time to open. Most of them were from Mom or Grandma, but a few were from Aunt Jessica and even a card from Cousin Mary.

I got some nail polish, lip gloss, necklaces, and bracelets. There were some books, all having girls as main characters, and a jewelry-making kit just like Mary got for Christmas. I kept looking over at Mom while I opened the presents. The more I showed my enjoyment of the gift, the more obvious that Mom was uncomfortable with all of this. I kept telling myself that I would not break this Christmas gift. I opened a card from Cousin Mary, and I froze. Inside was a picture she printed. It was her 1st-grade school picture, but she had replaced her face with one of me when I was five or six.

“What? How?” Mom was confused.

“I remember that picture,” Grandma said. “Why’d Mary do that?”

“Suzy,” Jilly commented. “You were cute as a little girl.”

“I loved that outfit,” I said, looking down at the picture. “I so wanted to wear it when I was little. From the hair ribbons to the shoes.”

“You did,” Jilly stated. “See, there’s a picture of you as a little girl wearing it. Why didn’t I know about Suzy back then?”

I smiled at Jilly, “You were a little one-year-old baby when that picture was taken, and I didn’t get to wear the dress. Mary just did a cut-and-paste job onto her picture. Not even a good job, but I love it.”

“You were five when Mary wore that dress,” Mom commented, as I could see her processing all of this. “You remember that?”

“I didn’t understand why the other girls got these wonderful outfits for picture day, and I didn’t,” I said, staring down at the picture. “Mary always had these amazing dresses for Picture Day. That yellow one was probably my favorite.”

“Mommy,” Jilly asked? “Why are you crying?”

I looked over at Mom, and a single tear was coming down her face.

“I didn’t want to believe you were a girl,” Mom looked right into my eyes. “I kept telling myself that you would grow out of it. It was just a phase. You came home that day telling me all about Mary’s dress and asked lots of questions about why you didn’t get a pretty dress like Mary’s for picture day.”

Mom took my two hands and continued, “You tried hard to convince me then that you were a girl, but all I would do was correct you and explain that you were a boy and boys don’t wear dresses. I figured you were just a confused little kid that didn’t know the difference between girls and boys. You were so mad at me for days after that. Then, whenever Mary wore that dress, and you saw it, you got mad at me again. How . . . how was I supposed to know you weren’t confused, and we were the ones getting it wrong.”

The room was silent for at least a minute.

“I’m sorry, Suzy,” Mom got out before more tears fell.

I hugged Mom.

Jilly picked up the picture and looked at it, “It sure looks like you got to wear the dress. That’s not you?”

I smiled over at Jill, “No, it’s not. Mary just used the computer to cut my face out of one picture and stick it over her face on this picture. Was she on her computer when I was taking my shower?”

“Yeah.”

“That must be when she did it then,” I explained. “Cool trick. I wish I had thought of doing it. I couldn’t figure out how to hide a dress, but I could have hidden those.”

“Suzy,” Grandma inquired? “What pictures would you have put your face on?”

“Ones of Jilly and Mary on Christmas, Easter, and picture days. Those are when they wore the best outfits and had their hair done really nice.”

Grandma looked at Mom, “You wanted to know what type of girl she is. That tells me she isn’t just a girl. She’s a girly-girl.”

I looked at Mom and Grandma, trying to figure out what Grandma was saying. After a few moments, Grandma got out her phone and started tapping away on it. Jilly didn’t appear to pick up on any of this and brought over the last present.

“Open it. Open it,” Jill said with excitement.

It was a science kit for making Bath Bombs. This fascinated Jilly, who loved Bath Bombs, especially when they had a toy inside.

As Jilly examined the box, I looked over at Grandma. She was still focused on her phone and typing things into it.

“Nope,” Grandma finally said, looking up from the phone. “The Nutcracker ended just before Christmas, and Swan Lake doesn’t start until February.”

Grandma went back to her phone, tapping away.

“What’s she doing,” Jill asked?

“Looking up Ballet’s by the sound of it,” Mom answered, looking at Grandma.

“I don’t want to take ballet again,” Jill stated. “I like Gymnastics much better.”

“I’d like to,” I said softly.

“You would,” Mom asked?

“Have wanted to since before Jilly started when she was four,” I barely said above a whisper.

Mom looked right at me. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t show a negative reaction. I viewed this as a positive.

With all the presents open, Jilly started up Polly Pop Race. I joined her, but this time I picked the Sally character, a girl with pigtails and wearing a pink and purple outfit. After two races, I went back to my room to put my new clothes away.

Alone in my room, I wasn’t sure what to think of all of this. The Christmas Wish I have made every year since I was five has finally come true, but I may lose Dad because of it. Mom doesn’t like me as a girl, but she’s pretending she is okay with it. No one has talked about school next week, but I’m sure they will come up with some excuse for why I can’t dress this way at school. What in the world was I doing?

Hanging up my dresses, I smiled and ran my hand over the fabric. Turning back to the suitcase on my bed, I looked at Tammy and Amanda, “Today I am the girl I have known I was. Will the magic end? It always does in the movies; with Cinderella, the clock struck twelve, and in Peter Pan, you couldn’t fly unless you had happy thoughts. Yeah, Yeah, I know Tammy. Unhappy thoughts keep getting in my head.”

The next dress I went to put away was the most frilly in the collection. It had layers of puffy skirts, frilly shoulder straps, and little flowers all over the chest. A huge smile grew on my face as I took it out of the suitcase.

Looking over at Teddy and my Amanda doll on the bed, “You want me to have happy thoughts? This should help.”

I got undressed and put on the fancy party dress. I couldn’t get the zipper in the back no matter how hard I tried. Not worrying about that for now, I put on some white tights and the black Mary Jane shoes. Looking in my mirror, I smiled. I sat down on my bed and put on my glittery purple nail polish. When that was done, I just had to get the dress zipped up.

“Mo. . .” I stopped myself. Maybe Mom wasn’t the best person to help me. “Grandma. Grandma, can you come here please.”

Grandma walked into the room a few minutes later, “Oh my. You look beautiful.”

I blushed, “I can’t get the stupid zipper in the back.”

“Here, turn around, and I’ll get that.”

I let Grandma zip me up. When I turned around to thank her, I noticed Mom in the doorway.

“That certainly is a fancy dress,” Mom stated. “Are you planning on going out to a party?”

“No,” I stared at Mom, trying to figure out if she was mad or not. “I needed something to give me happy thoughts, and I figured wearing this would help.”

Grandma looked at Mom, and then turning back to me, she took me into a big hug, “You are a wonderful girl Suzy.”

“What unhappy thoughts were you trying to get rid of,” Mom hesitantly asked?

“That I will never get a chance to wear any of these clothes, that you and Dad will never love me again, and that Dad is right, I deserve a whipping for telling everyone the truth about me,” tears started down my face. “That the magic will end at midnight, and I will turn into the ugly boy everyone thinks I am.”

“Oh, Lewis,” Mom said, coming over and hugging me. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll see. It will be okay, baby.”

“Will it,” Grandma immediately asked as I stood limp in Mom’s embrace? “How is she supposed to believe that? Her dad won’t be in the same house as her and you . . . you lie right to her face. Ellen, if you want Suzy to believe what you are saying, you will need to start calling her by her preferred name, stop wincing whenever she shows her likes and interests, and listen to what she is trying to tell you.”

Mom stepped back and looked, “I love you . . . Suzy. I really do. I’m . . . I can’t . . . I just was not prepared for all of this.”

Mom sat down on my bed, “Two days ago, I had a son, and now you’re my daughter. I was just starting to understand this when you opened that picture. You . . . You were never a boy, were you?”

Not looking at Mom, I went over and looked at the ballerina doll on my dresser, “No. Just wearing a boy costume that you forced me to wear.”

The room was silent.

“Just tell me where the stupid boy clothes are, and I will change,” I said, putting the doll in a sitting position and fluffing her dress.

“Ellen,” Grandma asked? “Is that what you want? You want Suzy to put on a costume and pretend to be someone else?”

“No,” Mom answered.

I kept looking at the ballerina.

“I. . . I want my child to be happy.”

Not Suzy or her, no Mom said ‘my child’ instead. I closed my eyes as I felt a tear coming down my face.

“The two of you need to talk, really talk. I’ll be out with Jill. Take as much time as you need.”

Nothing was coming out of my mouth, but in my head, I was screaming, ‘Don’t go, Grandma! Don’t go! Don’t leave me in here with her. Please stay!’

Grandma put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

I couldn’t even look at Mom. How was I supposed to talk to her? I fiddled with the ballerina’s dress.

Eventually, Mom started talking. I wasn’t paying attention, but then she said something that caught my interest, “That was the first time you crawled and your first fight over a toy. You wanted Mary’s baby doll. You and Mary grew up together. You loved all of Mary’s toys, and with only being a year older, she still enjoyed your toys. At first, we didn’t think anything of it. Toys were toys, and kids played with toys. Your third birthday, however, was the tipping point. Your Aunt Jessica hosted the party because they had just moved into their house with a backyard, and we were living in an apartment. Your Dad and I made an effort to get you toys that were clearly for boys. By the end of the party, your new toys were being played with by the boy kids in attendance while you were off playing with Mary’s baby dolls and kitchen set. You even put a Princess dress-up costume on so you could have on a pretty dress like the other girls.”

I finally turned around and looked at Mom.

“We did everything we could to discourage your interest in girl things. We set up boy-only playdates and kept you away from girl things as much as possible. We wouldn’t even allow you to visit Mary at her house throughout your preschool years. She always came to our place instead. We were convinced that we had finally persuaded you that you were a boy and boys play with boy things, not girl things. Well, until Kindergarten school pictures. Once you saw Mary in that dress and all the other girls in their fancy school picture dresses, we knew we had failed,” Mom said, looking down at her hands in her lap.

I went over to the bed and sat down next to her. Taking one of her hands, I squeezed.

Looking right into my eyes, “I’m sorry, Suzy. We had it wrong. We thought we failed to teach you the difference between boys and girls when what we truly failed was to see our child was a little girl. You have been telling us since you started crawling and fought Mary for her baby doll. We refused to listen. We have tried to convince you that you were a boy for twelve years. You have repeatedly shown us that you are a girl.”

We sat there in silence for a bit. Eventually, Mom and I started talking to each other, really talking. We chatted for more than an hour before heading out to find the others. When Jilly saw me in the fancy dress, she went out to put one on herself. When she came out, she handed me a tiara. Looking down at her in her fancy dress wearing her tiara, I took the one she gave me and put it on.

“That I need a picture of,” Mom said as she went off to get her phone.

Jill gave me a big hug and then took my hand as we stood there waiting for Mom.

“Smile,” Mom said. “My two Christmas Princesses.”