*FYI, this is Chapter 2 of 3 that'll be shared here on BC!*

CHAPTER TWO

I don’t think Trinity realized how strange her question was. If she had, she wouldn’t be looking at me so matter-of-fact. Was this supposed to be a joke?

“I… I don’t wear lipstick,” I told her with full sincerity, though my voice was wavering a tad.

“I know. You said that. I’m suggesting you try it on and give me your thoughts. Always better to have a second opinion.”

A million reasons for why this was a dumb idea popped in my head. And still, I was blown away by Trinity’s earnestness.
My Aunt — a forty-something beauty product influencer — wanted to share her interest with me. So in that regard her proposal was actually kind of sweet. But ‘sweet’ doesn’t mean ‘rational’.

My face was stuck in this weird, uncomfortable contortion as I mulled over her question. My prolonged silence and hesitation was becoming funny to her.

“Oh, don’t be such a little wuss,” Trinity teased. “Life’s all about trying new things! It’s not like you’ll be on camera.”

Hmm... She’s right. It’s only the two of us after all. I stared across the room at Trinity, playfully twisting the tube of lipstick in her hand. The sound of the twisting tube was like a siren’s song, luring me toward disaster.

“Okay but you have to put it on me,” I said, finally backing down.

Trinity was ecstatic. “Yes! You’ll look so darling, I guarantee it.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, molding her mouth into a weird shape. “Put your lips like this and try not to move.”

I did as told, standing as still as possible while she gracefully applied the product to my lips. It didn’t take long — 15 seconds at most — but her reaction suggested I looked like a whole new person. “Ah, I knew it! You do look darling.”
Enough already. I had to see myself. I scooted around Trinity to a mirror hanging in the living room and…

Wow.

I didn’t exactly look like a different person, but the bold red pop on my lips changed the entire energy of my face. It was as if my face had a secret femininity that was unlocked by the red lips. My bold, brown eyes, thin nose, and tight jawline suddenly seemed softer and girlier paired with the new lip color.

“That’s the power of makeup,” Trinity said, giggling as she watched me purse my lips in the mirror. “A good lip can change a face for the better.”

“I don’t know if I’d say ‘for the better’…” I replied cynically. “I look like a freaking girl!”

Trinity came up behind me and tugged at my hair tie, loosening my brunette ponytail and letting it fall onto my shoulders. Her eyes widened. “Nope. Because now you look like a freaking girl!”

One look at myself with my hair down and the red lipstick and I nearly lost it. I retreated from the mirror, overwhelmed by this new, shockingly feminine appearance. “Okay, that’s it! We’re done here. This is too freaky.”

Trinity was dying with laughter. “You’re so sensitive! Are you always this jumpy?”

“No, but I’m also not normally wearing lipstick with my hair down!” I snagged a tissue from the table and started rubbing my lips to get the makeup off as fast as possible. Trinity rushed over to stop me.

“Wait, you promised me a review!” she pestered, grabbing the tissue from my hands. “Just tell me, what did you think?”

Seriously? Was furiously removing it not a clear enough answer? “Freaky. That’s my review.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you boys could really learn to lighten up. I actually thought you looked pretty.”

“I know. I did. That’s the problem,” I told her firmly.

Trinity must’ve gotten the message by now because she held up her hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. You win. Thank you for trying, I guess.”

I didn’t like how things had gotten so tense so quickly after such a nice time unpacking my car and touring the house. Maybe I was just on edge after a long day of travel.

“I’m… I’m gonna hop in the shower and chill in my room for a bit,” I told her, still a little uneasy. “Go ahead and finish your work for the day.”

========

As I came to learn, Trinity was not the type to hold a grudge. She left me alone to unpack my things and set up what’d be my home for at least the next couple months. Neither the lipstick nor anything beauty-related was brought up the rest of the day. She must’ve realized her overstep and that pushing makeup on boys is not the best way to garner trust.

But that evening, she more than made up for it by preparing a lovely first dinner for the two of us — delicious tofu stir-fry. Trinity, like myself, was a vegetarian. But unlike myself, Trinity was an excellent cook. I always thought that the best cooks are able to fill you up twice: first with the smell, and later with the taste.

Already I could tell that living with Trinity would be safe, nurturing, and peaceful. In many respects that was ideal — after all, who doesn’t want a secure home life? But I had to be careful not to get too comfortable. My time in Old Buffalo wasn’t going to last forever, and I had my eye firmly on the next stage of life — a nursing job at a glitzy, downtown Chicago hospital.

These days, an ADN degree doesn’t get you much, especially in the hyper-competitive Chicagoland area. In order to get a decent job, I’d either need a Bachelor’s degree in Nursing (which I don’t have), or a passing score on the NCLEX exam — which we call ‘the boards’. Passing the boards would give me the RN designation necessary for a fighting chance. In fact, ADNs are already in an uphill battle against BSNs… but hey, it’s the hand I’ve been dealt and the one I’m gonna play. So my ‘job’ for the next couple months is to study-up and make myself the best possible candidate… whatever that entails.
I communicated this clearly to Trinity, and she was supportive of my studies. I’d have my space, she’d have hers. We’d respectfully live our separate, very different lives.

========

“Morning! Sleep okay?” Trinity asked with pep as I trudged downstairs to the kitchen. Damn, I thought that getting up at eight in the morning I’d be the first one up, but it looked like she’d already returned from a run and was halfway into cooking breakfast.

“Fine, thanks,” I said through a yawn. I peered over the pan. “Are those sausage links?”

“Beyond sausage,” she replied. “I’m in love with that fake meat stuff. It’s a vegetarian’s mistress!” Trinity flipped the links another time and determined them ready. “Want some?”

I checked the time on my phone. “Sure, but I’m eating quick today. My plan is to treat studying like a 9 to 5 job. There’s a library nearby right?”

“Good on you! And there sure is. It’s in that sleepy part of downtown near city hall. Nice area to walk around too.”

I snacked on my fake meat links and a couple eggs Trinity scrambled up as well. “Any plans for you today?”

“Gotta film a couple videos this morning. Then I’ll probably swim some laps at the club. Oh! And I got some things I need to bring down from the garage attic…”

“Jeez, active day!” I replied.

Yesterday’s dinner conversation all but confirmed that Trinity was in the ‘upper class’ of Old Buffalonians. Not only was she a homeowner, but she was a member of Golden Dunes Country Club. By the sound of it, anybody who’s anybody was a member there. Old money, new money… as long as you had money and lived in Old Buffalo, you were a member of Golden Dunes.

As tempting as an invite to her glamorous club was, I politely declined for today with my sights set on studying. One tasty breakfast later and I was off to the library.

========

My second time driving through downtown Old Buffalo was much more thought-provoking. I wondered who lived where and who belonged to Trinity’s club. What did these people think of out-of-towners like myself and the thousands of other Chicagoans who made Old Buffalo their summer home? Was it frustrating, or did they appreciate the economic boost? Still, for essentially a vacation town, Old Buffalo looked like any other in the midwest: quaint and quiet.

Exactly as Trinity said, the library was directly across the street from the impressive city hall building — but certainly not overshadowed. The twin buildings were architectural marvelous — twin gothic, limestone beasts looming over the town with matching, massive lawns out front. I wondered if that was intentional. Clearly the town took great pride in its public buildings — a quality I really appreciated, even if much of that enjoyment was given to people who only lived here three months of the year. But maybe I’m just wasting my time thinking about the locals knowing the goal of coming here is just to leave as fast as possible.

In the large main room of the library I found a giant wooden table to claim for the day. Though I tried my best to be quiet, I noisily spread out my study materials around the giant table: notecards, notepads, binders, my laptop, and several textbooks.

I’ve always been a chaotic studier. Heavy on practice materials and verbal repetition. You could argue that a public library is the worst place for this, but I also didn’t want to bother or be bothered by Trinity’s filming. A barren, mid-day library did just the trick as long as I could keep my voice down.

Outside of a 45 minute jaunt to a sandwich shop for lunch, I was pretty much trucking through the day uninterrupted. My only concern was the precipitous loss in retained nursing school information. Hell, I’d only graduated a couple weeks ago and I felt like there were so many facts and practices that weren’t immediately coming to me. But still, I knew with diligent work and focus I could pull off being fully prepared by the end of August.

I was rolling, I was locked-in… That is, until my phone rang just before 4. Not a text, a call. It was Trinity. Ducking my head and hushing my voice, I answered.

“Hey, what’s up? I’m in the library so I can’t re—” I began but was quickly cut off.

“Is this Anderson Saffron?” a voice asked. A man’s voice. It was Trinity’s number but this wasn’t Trinity.

I suddenly felt a little scared. “Uh… yes. Who is this?”

“Excellent. Just giving you a heads up that your Aunt is in the hospital. Please don’t worry, she’s gonna be fine. She just had a fall.”

“A fall!?” I exclaimed, much to the annoyance of the other library-goers. “Sorry… uh…”

Thankfully, the man jumped in with an address for the hospital. I hung up the phone in shock. “A fall?” I whispered to myself as I hurriedly packed up my things and shuffled out of the library.

========

A kind greeter directed me to the first floor room where Aunt Trinity apparently was recovering. Blessings of a small town hospital I suppose — no hour-long corridors to traverse just to find a patient room.

The floor was pretty dead when I arrived. Nothing like the hospitals I was accustomed to with nurses and physicians buzzing around, busy as bees. In fact, I was actually halted not by a medical professional, but the admin assistant.

“Hey hey hey,” she held up her hand, preventing me from going into the room. “Anderson?”

I skidded to a stop. “Yeah, what?” Ugh, that sounded harsh… “I’m sorry, I’m in a rush.”

The woman in her 60s smiled sweetly. “I imagine so! Just so you know, your Aunt is okay… but she might look a little… shocking.”

“It’s okay, I’m a nurse,” I answered confidently.

“Oh, you are? Good! I’d ask where you work but I’m sure you’re in a rush.”

“Unemployed at the moment. Studying for boards,” I answered a little dismissively and walked briskly into the room. I hate coming across as rude, but this wasn’t exactly a time for chit-chat.

I lightly knocked on the door and opened it, just as I had when arriving at Lumber Lane. But instead of a bouncy, bright Aunt Trinity, she was in far worse condition.

Amidst the jungle of medical equipment, bedding, and bandages sat a person. “Trinity?” I asked, concerned.

“Mmhm!” I heard from the body. A little muffled, but surprisingly peppy. “Hey!”

Now, I should say as a nurse, I’ve seen blood, cuts, bruises… you name it. So Trinity’s appearance didn’t exactly bother me, but she certainly didn’t look like her normal, gorgeous self either. There she sat, propped up in the bed with a bandage over about half of her face like a poorly-wrapped mummy. Her left arm was in a sling and had thick, bulky padding on her right shoulder. The other hand was resting on her lap in a splint while the rest of her body had a smattering of bandages covering up what must be scrapes, bruises, or even worse.

“How silly do I look, huh?” she muttered. I couldn’t believe she could have a sense of humor at a time like this.

“What… what happened?” Was all I could manage.

She sighed and looked at me with her one visible eye. “Forgive me if I’m not too wordy because this all hurts like hell… but I was cleaning out the attic and had a terrible fall down the stairs. Caught myself… kinda…” she gestured to her shattered arms. “And it led to a full-on face plant.”

“Oh… my… god…”

“Yep... Thankfully the garage door was open and my neighbor Andrew walked by at just the right moment. I felt like Kate Winslet at the end of Titanic, yelling for help with any breath I could muster. Except I didn’t have a whistle and it wasn’t freezing water.”

So Andrew must’ve been the man that called me. “Jesus… What’d they diagnose you with?”

Well, I haven’t seen an ortho doc yet, but my hand and shoulder are super fucked up. Must have a couple broken fingers too… And my nose. I mean, falling 12 feet onto solid concrete will do that!”

“I’m sure…” I said, still taking in the horror of her condition.

“They’re keeping me here for a few more hours while things get figured out. Mind sticking around?”

I took a step toward my Aunt and tenderly placed my hand on the side of her bed. I was afraid if I touched her, I’d only break another one of her bones. “Of course of course of COURSE!” I said emphatically. “Anything you need, okay?”

Trinity sighed and gave me her best pain-free smile. “I’ll have the doc explain more to you since you guys speak the same medical language.” Another deep sigh from Trinity, followed by what seemed like a painful cough. “Fuck! Everything hurts.”
“I know, I know…” I replied gently, still standing next to the bed. “Shitty start to the summer.”

“The worst. And right after swimming my fastest quarter mile ever,” Trinity lamented. “I’m sure you figured, but I’m gonna need a little help around the house for the next couple days.”

I chuckled. “Weeks, probably. But sure. Whatever you need, I’m here for you. I’ll mix in my studies with all the caretaking you need, okay?”

Another smile, but this one a little less sure. “That’d be great. But you know… There’s also a job I can no longer do.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, afraid of what she was about to ask. But Trinity was nothing if not earnest. “I know you’re a boy and all — and I know you despised that lipstick. But maybe you can lend a hand reviewing a few more products? Princess Trinity could really use the help…”

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Look out for another sample chapter this week! Hope you all like this new one :)

Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Can-You-Lend-Hand-Feminization-ebook/...

*FYI, this is Chapter 3 of 3 that'll be shared here on BC!*

CHAPTER THREE

I desperately wanted to help out Trinity. I mean, look at her! She’s in seriously deep shit. But just because her arms aren’t working, doesn’t mean her brain isn’t.

“Uh… let’s talk about that later,” I said, not wanting to outright reject her at the moment, but still wishing to convey sympathy. It was a punt, sure. But a necessary one. Right now, the thing she needed most was company and comfort. So that’s exactly what I provided for the next couple hours, as we talked, laughed, and kept things light.

Not wanting to be stuck with an overnight hospital bill, Trinity opted to be taken home in the late evening. She’d had an exhausting day and needed rest more than anything. The results of her MRI would be coming tomorrow, but neither of us were counting on good news. What more could I do than get her safely in bed, help rewrap her wounds, and keep her as comfortable as possible.

========

“Mhmm…” Aunt Trinity murmured, listening to the doctor as he delivered the results over the phone. “I guess it’s not too surprising… What about a timeline?”

Trinity and I were seated around the kitchen table, listening to the doctor’s verdict on speaker phone from her cell.

“You’re lucky it’s not worse, honestly,” he said frankly. “Your broken nose should heal up fine without treatment. A few weeks there. The left pinky finger will need to stay in that splint for maybe a month.” The doctor paused, then delivered the major blow. “The hand and shoulder… Those will take a while. No surgery, thankfully. But a couple months, maybe, to get back to normal. And that’s before even starting physical therapy.”

“And all the facial brushing?” Trinity asked, strangely concerned about that element the most.

“Like I said, the nose’ll heal on its own. The swelling and scratches will too. These things just take time, Trinity. Just hold off on headshots or yearbook photos for a while.”

I chuckled, but Trinity sighed. “I understand. Thank you.”

We signed off with the doctor and Trinity, for the first time, slumped in her seat. The ever-positive woman was finally beat down.

“You know, it could be way worse,” I said, parroting the doctor’s words.

“Yeah, it could…” she admitted. “There’s just so much I wanted to accomplish around here this summer. I was thinking about re-doing a bunch of landscaping, I had my swimming goals…”

“Well, I could always drag you behind me in the lap pool,” I kidded. Trinity laughed again, somewhat painfully as she clutched her shoulder.

God, did I ever feel bad for her. I could tell this physically broken woman was fighting to keep her spirit intact. A splint on her finger, a brace on her hand, and that shoulder sling made her look like an injured war vet. Not to mention her face, which hadn’t improved much since yesterday. Her lips, eyebrows, and forehead were all cut, scraped, and covered by bandages. Half of her face was a sickly, purple-yellow from the bruising.

“How about this… The mornings will be for me to study. Then when the afternoon hits, I’ll run your errands, do your yard work, and complete any chores you need.”

Trinity’s face lit up. “Seriously? That’d be lovely!” she exclaimed. “Ah! I honestly can’t thank you enough. I promise, I’ll think of a way to repay you.”

As much as I wanted to ask for money, my heart deep down couldn’t accept payment for this kind of work. She was giving me free room and board, after all. If there’s one thing my parents instilled in me, it’s that you help out your family — no questions asked. And even so, it’s not the worst idea to practice my caretaking and nursing skills.

========

For the next several days, my schedule went exactly as planned. I’d wake up and help Trinity with whatever she needed physically — dressing, bandage changing, medications… With such limited mobility of her hands and upper body, even simple tasks were a massive struggle if unassisted. So I realized a helpful daily task would be prepping for her breakfast and lunch in the mornings.

From morning to lunchtime, I’d camp at my now go-to table at the library, studying away and desperately clinging to anything I’d retained from two years of nursing school. Even if I hadn’t learned much in the short time, I’d at least gotten better at quietly shuffling my books, binders, and papers to avoid mean glares.

I’d return to Trinity’s in the early afternoon for a quick lunch, then jump straight into her to-do list. Each day brought its own unique challenge or task, though thankfully I had Trinity right there to teach or explain how to do things. I was a little ashamed how not handy I was. I mean, jeez, I didn’t think I was so sheltered growing up, but my lack of familiarity with gardening tools and lawn care trinkets was exposing all my weak points.

A great example was when the freezer door handle was busted and needed to be re-screwed.

“There’s an allen wrench in the garage—” Trinity began, to which I replied with a blank stare. “Really?” she added. “God, your Dad taught you all the wrong things…”

Funny enough, I felt like I was making more progress as a homeowner/landscaper/errand boy than I was being an actual nurse.

The best part about this rhythm though was, at the end of the day, Trinity and I would spend an hour or so in the kitchen making a delicious dinner for the two of us. With her brain and my hands, we cooked up some pretty tasty vegetarian dishes. Only one week in and I was growing more and more comfortable with her. Hell, I lived with my own mom for my entire life — and of course, I love her to death — but I never really developed an adult relationship with her. Aunt Trinity was different. Closer to me in age, similar-ish stages in life… She felt like the mix of a mother and older sibling mixed into one.

By my second week we’d already set the precedent that Wednesdays would be movie nights. A week ago, she was in much worse shape and barely cared what I threw on. This week, she put her foot down as tonight’s decider. I guess I’d call it progress.

“You ever seen ‘She’s All That’? Because if you haven’t, it's essential.”

I shook my head. “No, but even the title sounds like a shitty rom-com.”

“It’s absolutely a shitty rom-com. And that’s why you need to see it,” Trinity insisted, motioning for me to pick up the remote and queue it up. She didn’t have cable, but I found it after digging through a couple streaming services.

I’d never heard of this movie before, but it didn’t take long to realize it was basically that old musical, ‘My Fair Lady’. Essentially, Freddie Prinze Jr. bets his friend that he can transform the nerdy Rachel Leigh Cook into the next prom queen. And shocker, he starts to fall for her.

The movie was charming and goofy enough to warrant a watch, and if anything, I enjoyed Trinity quoting certain lines and reminiscing about the first time she watched it. Trinity is definitely a movie talker, too — something I normally wouldn’t have the patience for. But hey, tonight’s her night.

As the movie hits its third act, there’s a scene where Rachel Leigh Cook waltzes downstairs, beautifully transformed into a prom queen. It’s a sweet moment, they play that ‘Kiss Me’ song in the background… It's great. I looked over across the living room at Trinity, wondering if she was a movie crier in addition to a talker, but she wasn’t crying. In fact, through the bruised coloring on her face, I noticed an idea formulating.

“Can you pause the movie?” she asked. I did as told and she looked over at me.

“You never told me if you’d help me out with the beauty products,” she said bluntly. Notably, it wasn’t a question. She worded it almost as an accusation — though not that aggressive.

I admit, her question didn’t completely catch me off guard. After all, this movie’s all about transformation and letting beauty products turn you into something you’re not.

“No, I haven’t,” I answered honestly. “I kinda thought you just didn’t care.”

Trinity softened her tone. “I don’t want to seem unappreciative, but… I dunno, this movie’s making me feel like I’m missing out. I have such good momentum with the influencer thing, and I got a backlog of all these products I wanna review. But… look at me.”

Her face looked better than it did a week ago, but a shoulder sling, a brace, a splint, and bruises galore don’t exactly lend themselves to the beauty influencer look.

“So what’re you suggesting? You wanna doll me up like a prom queen and have me waltz down the stairs?” I asked, completely joking, but quickly afraid I planted a seed in her head.

“No, no… just, like I said, lend a hand in that department. I need content for my pages. I’ll do all the posting and captioning. I just… I need a temporary model.”

I thought about her request for a moment. She must’ve caught me in the exact right mood, because her words didn’t sound so absurd this time around. “Alright… What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I got this super cute nail polish that I’ve been meaning to show off. Obviously, nobody wants to look at a splint or a brace so–”

“Sure,” I answered confidently. “Nail polish I can do.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Wow, I honestly thought you—”

I didn’t have much patience for dissecting my acceptance of wearing nail polish. “I guess you just caught me in a good mood.”

If it weren’t for her injuries, she would’ve jumped for joy and applauded. But Trinity looked as happy as can be. “Ooh! Can I paint your nails during the movie? There’s just enough time left that it’ll work out. I can use my left hand, too!”

“Uh…” I muttered, not expecting this to start so quickly. “I guess…”

Trinity had me fetch the bottle of nail polish that was boxed up in the closet near the front door with the rest of her unopened, gifted products. I grabbed the small black box she told me about, perched right on top of the looming mountain of unboxed girly products. I shut the door and returned to the dimly lit, quiet living room.

“Sit here, let me show you,” Trinity said calmly, as I took my seat next to her on the couch. I gulped, more than a little nervous as I removed the bottle from its packaging. It was a bright, baby blue color. I hadn’t been this nervous around my aunt since the lipstick moment on my first day here. The vision of myself in the mirror, looking almost entirely like a girl from only lipstick. Would nail polish create the same stomach-churning feeling of a feminine Anderson?

But just as I screwed the top off the bottle to begin, Trinity shifted away. “Phew!” she said, scrunching her face. “You, uh… Did you shower after yard work today?”

“I… Uh… I guess I didn’t,” I said mindlessly, still focused on the impending nail polish. “Sorry, we went right into cooking—”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she assured me, giggling. “But can you blame me if I wanna avoid smelling your stink for the next half-hour?”

I turned bright red with embarrassment. Here I was about to get my nails done by my Aunt, and now she was telling me I stink. But I took the awkwardness as an escape route. “Fine, I’ll go shower. So nails tomorrow?”

Trinity shook her head. “No, still nails tonight. We have a movie to finish!”

I shrugged, accepting her request. But I took only one step upstairs before she called my name again.

“Anderson? I actually have a better idea. Can you use my shower?” she asked politely.

I stared at her, confused. “…why?”

“I want to paint all of your nails and take pictures for the page. Toenails too. So that means I’ll need freshly shaved legs for the pictures.”

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