I walk ‘long the tracks between the haves and have nots
I’ve got nothing but hope to my name
Without a name, I suppose, it’s all just as well
‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

I look down at myself in my hand-me-down rags
And think of all those wrong toys stuffed in bags
And the wrong boys they wander in and out of my life
Sometimes I just wish they’d leave me alone.

I see the girls in their dresses and long flowing tresses
My gorgeous blonde hair’s been cut to my ears
I’d give my left arm for just one doll in my right
If I thought crying would help, I just might.

‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town
And the world seems it’s so upside down
I wanna dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
But it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

I had to steal my nail polish and a lipstick or two
Then I had to just hide them away
‘Cause when your born to be poor in both spirit and soul
You just hope you’ll be dancing one day.

One day at a time, oh if I had a dime
For every time someone said “dear, just smile”
I’d be richer than God in His mansplaining prime
Here’s my shoes, come and walk just a mile.

‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town
And the world seems it’s so upside down
I wanna dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
But it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

There’s a train rumbling down, I can feel as I walk
There’s the whistle I’d hear if I cared
Then I look over again to the girls I should be
But I live here, for now, I’ll survive.

So I step off the tracks as the train rushes past
Then find myself face to face with a girl
She’s so pretty and sweet, and those heels on her feet
Oh my dear God, that sweet girl is me!

And it was Christmas on the wrong side of town
When the world seemed to be upside down
Now I dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
No more Christmas on the wrong side of town.
No more Christmas on the wrong side of town.

 

Flipping Over Christmas A Transgender Romance By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 22,300

---

 
Image Credit: Adobe Stock Photos - File# 1080011320
Butterfly lyrics by Lenny Kravitz
Green Eyes lyrics by Chris Martin, et. al.
 

When I first met Thad Williams, I thought I would scream. Not only was he gorgeous, but he knew it, and was the biggest pain in the ass on the planet, I was sure of it. He has an ego as big as Hearst Castle, but somehow makes it cute. Dammit! We have been paired together for like a ‘Fixer Upper’ type show and I’m not sure it’s gonna be worth it. I’ve always idolized Joanna Gaines (I wanna be her when I grow up!) and I think Chip is cuter than a basketful of kittens. I mean, Joanna can decorate unholy heck itself and make it so beautiful it can make you cry. Of course, it had to have a lot of shiplap and gun metal gray paint!

I originally hoped this show would star me and my brother, as we had dreamed of it since we were young. Josh had gone into carpentry and construction while I went into all kinds of art design and decorating courses - even some basic architecture. He’s two years older than me and twice my size. Did I say? I’m 5’6” and 120 pounds, while he’s like six-two, 220! My mom would say we were like Mutt and Jeff, whoever they were. So, anyways, we always thought we were the perfect team, our interests being so complementary and all.

Yes, I suppose I’m a walking cliché, being as gay as Christmas on 5th Avenue and becoming an interior designer. I’ve never actually had sex, but I do get all squidgy when I see a cute guy. I’m also pretty femme, so, yeah, that’s me - the sissy who endured incessant bullying from a very young age. My whole life is a cliché. All I need to do is ice dance in a tutu and the image would be complete. Actually, that sounds kinda fun!

I remember making my parents crazy when they bought me black hockey skates for Christmas one year and I insisted (read: threw a major fit - the kind with cows and kittens). Anyway, I fervently insisted they exchange them for a pair of white figure skates. Jeez, you’d think I asked for neon pink ones or I’d fire-bombed an orphanage or something. You know, I think they’d actually prefer me being a terrorist to being gay. Sigh. Needless to say, I don’t have much to do with them anymore. I got the white skates though. Yay me! Sometimes hissy fits actually work!

So, anyway, Josh and I recorded ourselves, pretending to be like Chip and Joanna, or those property brothers or whatever. We used my fancy new iPhone, and did several takes of each scene to get different angles and stuff and it turned out pretty good. Woulda been better to have a whole film crew, but I’m not exactly Stephanie Spielberg, dontcha know? We had so much fun! After I edited the video, Josh and I posted it to all of our social media accounts. That was as far as it was expected to go. Just entertain our friends and family. That sort of thing.

Turns out I had to consider wearing a Covid mask thingy cause it went totally viral in about a week! I had to giggle because there were like thousands of guys asking who the cute girl was and if they could get a date and such like that. I wasn’t wearing makeup or a dress or anything; I just had on jeggings with a pretty blouse and my long blonde hair up in a bouncy ponytail. I didn’t have stilettos on either, just a pair of cute hiking boots with slouch socks. I thought I looked cute, but I didn’t expect a bunch of straight guys to fall in love with me. Okay, I have to admit I found it very flattering. Don’t tell Josh, but I even friended a few.

Yes, I actually do have some dresses and stilettos. I like dressing up, so sue me! I don’t recall the last time I was pegged as a boy. It just doesn’t happen; everyone understandably assumes I’m a girl regardless of what I’m wearing, what with being small with delicate features and a mezzo soprano voice, and, truthfully, I don’t mind it one bit. Except it’s hard to get a date that way. I mean, if a guy thinks I’m a girl, he’s gonna actually expect me to be a girl, right? He would be mighty surprised to find out otherwise, wouldn’t he? Unless he was bi- and what are the chances of that? Ooh, yes, that’s what I need, a bi-guy!

So here’s what happened. A woman, named Denise, from HGTV, called one day out of the blue. How she got my phone number I don’t know, but call she did. Apparently it’s her job to monitor home and garden social media postings for ideas and stuff. Kinda wish I had that job now I think about it! Anyway, she said she loved me, but Josh was a bit, well, less than they were looking for. I thought Josh was cute and funny and talented, but maybe I’m just biased. So we discussed it over dinner one night.

“Stevie, you need to take this!” Josh told me with some vehemence. I was born Steven Darling, but I’ve been called Stevie forever. I actually had my name legally changed last year; just made everything easier that way. Josh continued before I could object. “This is your dream. You’ve always been the one hamming it up, digging the spotlight. I would love doing this with you, but I’m not what they want apparently.”

I frowned at my enchilada, “Maybe if we practice more?”

“Practice won’t make me better looking. You’re the pretty one with the effervescent personality.” He said, looking me in the eye.

I blushed. “You really think I’m pretty?” I said before I remembered that guys aren’t supposed to be pretty. Although, I was called ‘pretty boy’ in school quite a bit (not pretty boy like Brad Pitt, but pretty boy like Angelina Jolie! Hey, I’m not complaining); along with girly-boy and a dozen other less than flattering epithets. After a while I decided to accept them as badges of honor. Don’t let the bastards get you down and all that.

“You know you’re pretty and you love being pretty. I know my little brother, and you were made for being in front of the camera, whether it’s being an actress or a reality TV star, whatever.”

I giggled. “You just said ‘actress.’”

He just smiled. “So I did. Anyway, you could use the money. I have regular work while you just get the occasional decorating job. You could be so much more and this is your chance.”

“Well, I could finally pay you more for rent and utilities and stuff. God, adulting is so hard!” I whined.

Josh laughed, “Don’t you worry about that, we’re doing fine. Besides you’re the chief cook and bottle washer and make the house so pretty and homey and clean up my messes. But, I suppose, if you hit it big you can buy me a ‘Vette or something.”

“Ooh, and I could finally get that pony I always wanted!” I giggled.

I really had always wanted a Shetland pony when I was a little girl, er boy. I also wanted Barbies and never got those either. I got a GI Joe once and ended up decapitating him in a Christmas morning hissy fit. That was followed by a defenestration of the naked and disappointingly anatomically incorrect body parts. The drop from my second-storey bedroom window was a bloody prospect with pyracanthus bushes lying in wait! Poor Joe.

I don’t know why I still love Christmas so much, considering how depressing they always were. My list always had dozens of girly things on it and I never got a single one; I just got stupid boy stuff. I don’t know who’s more stubborn, my parents or me. ‘Course, I thought it was Santa who was being mean to me until I learned the awful truth about him. Have you ever noticed how Santa and Satan are like nearly the same name? I know, right?

But that was nothing compared to the awful truth I learned about myself about that same time. I thought I was a girl for the longest time, exasperating my parents for some reason or another, until they made Josh and me strip right in front of them. I knew Josh was a boy, so when I saw I had the same parts down below, I couldn’t very well deny the facts as much as I wanted to. I cried for hours. That was when I started praying for God to turn me into a girl. Every night it was the same prayer and every birthday and shooting star I had the same wish, but it never happened. So, God went the same way as Santa Claus - and the G.I. Joe.

Then, in junior high, I was called a fag and other similar nasty things, so I set myself the task of learning more about the concept. I guess I kinda fit the effeminate gay type deal, but I wasn’t the type to be over the top about it. I was just girly - feminine, I guess you’d say. I was still totally jealous of girls and then I started becoming attracted to boys on top of it all. I still felt like they were another species, definitely the opposite sex, but I was the same sex! Supposedly. So confusing, I gotta say.

#

So, here I am about to meet Mr. Thaddeus T. Williams. Seriously, who’s named Thaddeus? I couldn’t exactly be snarky about it; lord knows I was teased enough having the last name Darling. As if gym class wasn’t bad enough as it was, the teacher developed the annoying habit of calling me darling. ‘C’mon darling, you throw like a girl.’ Gee, I wonder why that is, Mr. Doofus. I was never very good at giving people snide nicknames. Or throwing a ball.

I sighed. Why am I the one who had to drive across town? Anyway, I got to ogle Thad’s fancy Beemer as I sidled my way up his snow-laden driveway. Well, the driveway of the house he was flipping. That’s how we were put together. Apparently, he does videos too. Everybody wants to be the next flipping star I guess. So, I tentatively knocked on the front door that was sadly in need of renovation. A nerdy looking guy about my age with a camera on his shoulder answered the door. “Hey! What can I do ya for?” He practically leered at me. Creepy.

“Yeah, um, Thaddeus?” I asked meekly.

He chuckle-snorted, “God no! Thad’s in the back doing demo. His favorite part of the project. I call him the ‘Demolition Man.’ Funny right? No? Anyway, I’m just one of the cameramen.”

One of the cameramen? Yikes. What, does he have a whole crew working with him? It turns out that, yes, he has a whole crew of college kids working with him for school credit. Some audio/visual type training I guess. Way to get free labor. Why hadn’t I thought of that? He even has an IT kid doing his editing and social media stuff. God, I hate this guy already!

Stewart, that’s the name of the welcome wagon camera geek, led me to the kitchen area. He shouted, ‘Thad! Bro, some chick to see you!” Chick? That’s a new one.

He turned from tearing apart a cabinet with a scowl, then he brightened up when he saw me. “Wow, lovely to meet you. Denise’s description didn’t do you justice.” He smiled, revealing perfect pearly whites. Omigod he’s gorgeous! Denise omitted that fact as well. Geez, he’s like if George Clooney and Tom Selleck had a love child. Or grandchild - they’re like way old now. I’m gonna have to watch Thad’s videos, if I can keep from passing out that is.

So, I stood there speechless, like a big dodo. He had to jolt me from my hunk-induced stupor. I get those on occasion. “I’m Thaddeus Williams,” he crooned, “but please, call me Thad.” How can I call him Thad? It makes me feel like I’m lithping or thomething. I giggled like a silly schoolgirl and he gave me a quizzical look.

“S-sorry,” I finally said, reaching out my hand. “Stevie. Stevie Darling. Denise sent me.”

“Well, darling; can I call you darling?” He tried with a smile.

“Well, we’ve only just met, sweetie.” I giggled and gave him a shy smile. Lord, I’m turning into a puddle of goo. “Please, call me Stevie.”

“Sure thing, Stevie. Now, I’m a good judge of character and I already have a good feeling about you.” He said, while I thought about the good feelings I was already having about him. “Why don’t we have lunch and get to know each other? Put my intuition to the test.”

“Sure, Thad. That’d be fine.”

He unclipped his work belt and tossed it onto the counter. “Take a break guys. Lunch. Two hours!” He commanded.

He took me to Steuben’s a couple miles away near Capitol Hill. It looked like an upscale cafe, if there is such a thing. The prices were upscale, that’s for sure. I’m more of a Taco Bell/McDonald’s type of girl. Omigod, he’s got me saying it now! I’m supposed to be a boy, why can’t I get that through my thick skull? Anyway, we got a booth and before my butt hit the cushion, he says, “Order whatever you want, it’s on me.”

I was sorta taken aback but pretty thankful to be honest. I replied with a smile, “Wow, thanks Teddy, that’s awfully nice of you. But, you don’t have to.”

He looked at me nonplussed. “Nobody’s ever called me Teddy before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I didn’t even realize.” I sputtered. Well, I’m off to a good start, aren’t I?

“It’s cool. I actually like it, at least from you. That can be our thing. If we end up working together, that is.” He gave me his charming smile.

I smiled back at him. “Of course.” My luck he’s probably straight, I mused. So, naturally, I had to risk it. “So, Teddy, um, you wouldn’t happen to be gay, would you? Or, maybe bi-?” Please, please, please.

He flushed, “No! Of course not. Wha-why would you ask me that? I mean, not that I have anything against gays, but…” He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed. Well, shit.

“Well, I admit that I find you very attractive and charming, and…” I didn’t know where to go with this one. I was certainly being forward.

“And…?” He smiled. Just stop it!

Completely flustered, I had to get it out in the open if this, erm, relationship is going to work. “You know I’m a boy, right?”

He looked stunned for a moment, then he laughed, a deep baritone guffaw. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! Talk about an off-the-wall joke.”

“It’s true, I’m afraid. Do you hate me?” I pleaded.

“Girl, I know women, believe me, and you are absolutely a woman - I mean, you totally vibe girl. A beautiful girl at that. I don’t know what your deal is with this stupid joke, but… shit!” He ran his hand through his hair. “Let’s just eat. You’ve wound me up good!”

I just shook my head and told him my meal choice. I ordered a bowl of spicy pork green chili off the appetizers menu. I loves me some green chili! He got something like a Philly cheesesteak or something. God, I really made him mad, or at least really confused, which can be just as dangerous with guys. And he’s so big, he could just snap me like a little twiglet if he got mad enough.

When we got back to the house, I got out my driver’s license. “Look, Teddy, here’s my ID. See? There’s an ‘M’ there, under sex. If we’re going to collaborate, you need to know the truth, don’t you think? Just think of me as another guy.”

“This is crazy. No. I don’t think it’s possible.” He shook his head. “I mean, you’re just so beautiful and sweet, I honestly don’t understand. No. Even if this is some elaborate joke I don’t think this is going to work Stevie. It’s just too confusing for me.”

“I totally get it, but I am who I am. This isn’t the first time I’ve missed out on an opportunity for just being me. Course, I did get to play Belle in ‘Beauty and the Beast’ in high school. The other girls were sure pissed.” I giggled.

He said, “See? You lumped yourself in with the other girls. Even you’re confused. How do you expect me to deal with this?”

“I don’t. I honestly don’t. Um, I’m just gonna go, ‘kay? It was really nice meeting you. Teddy.” I winked at him.
He ran his hands through his hair and growled. He turned away, so I took that as my cue to leave.

At home, I gave Denise a call. “You didn’t warn him Denise. He totally thought I was a girl!”

She laughed. “Hey, don’t put it all on me, girl; you need to stop being so beautiful and sweet. It took a while for me to believe it, too. Even with a full background check I almost didn’t believe it! Maybe you were misdiagnosed at birth?”

“Nope, I checked my panties just this morning.” I giggled.

“Well, Stevie, maybe next time you don’t tell the guy you’re a boy, huh? I’d tell you to butch it up and pretend to be a boy, but I just don’t see that as a real possibility. The producers think you’re better and prettier than any one else on their roster. Or in their stable, whatever. Your look and personality are what set you apart. So…” She left it hanging.

“I dunno Denise.” I started.

“Oh my god, I’m so brilliant! Stevie! Just say you’re trans! Yeah, yeah, me and my fellow bumpkins are in Tennessee and all, but they can’t really discriminate against trans people, I don’t think. I guess they might try, but please, tell me you’re trans.” She begged.

“Well, I used to think I was a girl, but my parents beat that out of me at an early age. I dunno, Denise. Being gay was a big enough blow for my parents, how can I even entertain being trans? Denver’s pretty liberal, but my parents? Not so much. I mean, I’d love to be a girl, to be totally me, but…” It was my turn to leave the sentence hanging.

“Honey, you are a girl. Trust me on this. I talk to a lot of people in my job and I’ve noticed a major difference between males and females in communication. You’re a girl. Just own it. So, tell me, who’s running your life? You or your parents? You’re what, 22?” She asked.

I nodded into the phone, uselessly. “Yeah. I know you have a point, and I don’t even really see my parents any more. I’ll have to give it some thought, I guess. Thanks Denise.” Yeah, thanks for throwing my life up in the air again. It took me years to get used to the idea of being gay. Now trans? Everybody hates trans people these days. The thought is kinda scary.

So, what do I do when I’m in a quandary? I call my BFF, Janet. We’ve been friends since middle school, when I first bought into the whole gay thing. She was there with me, even enduring the inevitable spewing of ‘fag hag’ at her. All my friends were girls. It’s weird, because girls usually separate from boys at that age, but I guess I was safe or something. I wasn’t a threat and I understood the female mind, mainly because I kinda had one. Sigh.

“Hey Janet! It’s been a minute.” I said.

“Hey girl!” She’s always said that and it always makes me smile. She knows I like it. Then she began the inquest, “So, why have you been avoiding me? New boyfriend?” I rolled my eyes, because she also knows I’ve never really had a boyfriend. I live in the marches between boy world and girl world; not many takers there.

“Nope; still no takers.” I admitted.

“Well, their loss is my gain. What’s going on?” She asked.

“Well, you know how you always call me ‘girl?’ Do you think I may really be a girl?” I thought I’d just throw it out there.

“Yes.” She said simply. “I think I told you that like ten years ago. So, why are you asking now?”

“Janet? Can I come over?” I practically whined into the phone. I prefer going to her place, because it’s really super nice. It’s a huge condo her father bought for her (brat) and it’s really pretty and has all the coolest new gizmos. She had me help her decorate it last year when she moved in. Also, I sometimes need a little girl talk without Josh around, much as I love him.

“Course you can sweetie. I’m just here all by my lonesome. You’d be more than welcome.” She said. Did I say? She’s the best.

“Janet, you’re the best. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

She said, “I’ll be here with bells on and a bottle of wine. Hurry your pretty little butt over here. Byeee.”

She’s one of the few people I feel comfortable dressing extra girly around, so I threw on a denim skirt and a pretty blouse over a padded bra. I’m kinda flat chested, after all. A pair of strappy heels and a touch-up of my makeup and I was ready to go. As I got to the door, Josh was just coming in.

“Whoa. Where are you going all prettied up?” He smiled.

“Just over to Janet’s. You know, girl talk. Gotta run; bye Joshie!” I said breathlessly and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“You be careful, sis!” He said as I rushed out the door. God, I love when he calls me that!

#

I knocked on Janet’s door and she flung it open. “Stevie! Oh my god, you look so cute!” she gushed. “Get in here, girl.”

So, we got our glasses of wine and settled in on the couch. The nail polish and crystal nail file were sitting there on the coffee table, ready and waiting. It’s kinda our thing, doing each other’s nails while we talk. I shook the bottle and set it down, taking up the file. “I just had a quick thought,” I began. “Well, thoughts are always quick, aren’t they? It’s not like they’re sitting in the back of your mind, biding their time…or are they?” I rolled my eyes at myself. I was doing it again. I always rattle when I’m nervous. “Um, before we start, I think I need a little Taylor, so, if you don’t mind.” She just motioned like ‘be my guest’ to the Echo sitting there. “Alexa, play You Need to Calm Down.” Alexa annoyingly repeated what I said, and then some, and began thumping. God, Janet’s sound system is sooo awesome.

“Oh boy,” Janet said. “You’re in one of you’re moods again, aren’t you?”

I just smiled, got up, and started dancing, throwing my hair around and gyrating my hips. I love dancing in heels! Janet quickly joined me and we were giggling and singing like school girls. It was like junior high all over again, except back then we were dancing to Shake it Off and we were drinking out of juice boxes, not cut crystal wine glasses.

After the song I collapsed back onto the sofa. “Phew! I needed that!”

“So I gathered. Okay, what’s wrong in Barbie’s dreamworld today?” She teased.

“Oh god, Janet,” I began. I told her all about the HGTV deal and meeting Thad/Teddy, finishing off with Thad scuttling the show. Well, cutting me out of it anyway. Then I told her about my conversation with Denise. “That’s why I asked if you thought I was a girl. She thinks I might have an easier time if I just admitted I was a trans girl. Is it time? Should I just forget my parents and finally be a girl?”

“Stevie, you already are a girl. You always were and you’ve never really hidden it. I mean, you wore more makeup than me back in school.” She said.

“I did not!” I whined and smacked her arm. “Well, maybe in eighth grade I did.” I giggled.

“And you got your ears pierced even though your parents would like to kill you over it. Two in each lobe! Look, you didn’t hang out with the girls because you were gay. We accepted you because you are a girl. Everybody caught your vibe, even Stacy Allred.” Stacy was a cheerleader and too cool for school. This was news to me.

I had to giggle. “Remember how the boys always sang ‘Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on’ when she walked by? God, she hated that!”

Janet giggled. “Oh my god, I so remember that! I also remember how I was so jealous of you in choir. You had the most beautiful soprano…”

“Mezzo soprano,” I corrected and Janet rolled her eyes.

“You are such a diva.” She teased me.

So, that’s the verdict. I’m a girl and I should embrace it. But it’s sooo scary. I went home, cleaned off my makeup, put on a nightie, and collapsed into bed.

I didn’t have any jobs lined up, so I was home just puttering around a couple days later when my phone rang. Well, it played Vivaldi’s Spring, indicating an incoming call. It’s Thad; what in the world could he want? I decided to answer it. “Hi Thad. What’s up?”

He replied, “Well damn, what happened to Teddy? I thought we were friends.” What? When did that happen?

So I said just that. “What?” Terse, but effective.

“I had an interesting talk with Denise. Why didn’t you tell me you were trans?” He asked.

“Would it have made any difference?” I asked, a little perturbed.

“Well, yes. It clears up any confusion I had. You’re not a guy in makeup looking all hot. You’re a girl, and that I can understand.” He tried.

“So, you’re a homophobe?” I pressed.

“No. I told you I’m not. But when I’m told the sweetest, prettiest girl I’ve ever met is really a guy, I kinda can’t process it. Can’t you understand that? I’m just a regular guy after all. I mean, I’m pretty woke, but I haven’t had my coffee yet.” He quipped and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“You think I’m pretty?” Why am I always fishing for compliments?

“You’re gorgeous, and you were just wearing work clothes when I met you. I bet you clean up real nice.” He said.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” I volleyed.

“Touché. So, now that that’s all cleared up. I mean, it is cleared up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, pretty clear.” I verified.

“Okay, good. So, I’d like to give us a go. As a team I mean, for the show. I watched your video and it’s really very very good. You’re a natural and I think this could work.” He was laying it on thick, but I didn’t mind.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s do it.” I said.

He continued as if he hadn’t heard me, “I mean, I understand if you don’t want to. I was kind of a jerk…”

“Teddy? I said yes.” I interrupted his self-flagellation.

“Oh, right. Cool. So, can you come tomorrow?” He asked.

“I’d love to.”

#

I still had half a day with nothing much to do, but I was really excited to start on a new project. Not only that, but it’s shooting a demo, a concept video for Denise to show to her producers. Omigod, I’m gonna be a star! I giggled. Calm down girl, we’re a long way from that. Who knows? Maybe Thad sucks, although, Denise thought he was better than Josh, so I guess that’s something.

I had Thad email me the blueprints and whatever video and stills he had of the project so I could get started envisioning the space and developing thematic ideas. I input all the dimensions into my cool 3-D design program - I got a huge student discount on that last year - it is soooo much fun! I also got a powerful laptop through school. Anyway, that took me most of the day, so to chill out I poured a glass of Pinot and placed a stack of home and garden mags on the coffee table. I also have a few I get through Kindle Unlimited, so that’s a bonus! I decided to do the total bliss-out experience, so I asked, “Alexa, play my playlist ‘Reading Music.’ Thanks sweetie.” I like to be polite to her for some reason. Then I put on the fireplace video on my TV and started to wonder when I lost touch with reality? Everything is virtual now - hmmm. I once read that the mind can’t differentiate between reality and something vividly imagined. Sounds true, but I think there is a deeper emotional component when interacting with the real deal. That’s why I like to engage in reality when I can afford it, which is none too often, sadly!

I had images and ideas for the project flooding through my mind as I readied myself in the morning. I decided that I’d give Teddy a taste of the real me - the whole girl. Being December, I chose a beautiful cranberry red sweater dress that I would pair with my black knee-high kitten heel boots. I wanted to wear my white ones, but then remembered I would be at a construction site!

So, I put on all my shapewear so I could have a nice hourglass figure. It’s time I really got serious and started looking into finally getting hormones. I want my very own breasts and hips, dontcha know? I’ve dreamed of that my whole life, but have been denying my true nature every step of the way. Thanks mom and dad! I may be stubborn, but I’m also a scaredy cat, a combination that has led to a lot of turmoil over the years. Sigh.

I did full daytime makeup and put in a pair of sparkly hoop earrings. I looked into the mirror and gave a sexy little pout. I love being pretty! A little of my thigh will show between my dress and boots, so I decided to wear nude pantyhose, too. Oh, who am I kidding, I would wear panty hose anyway! They feel so amazing, I’ll never get used to that luscious feeling. So smooth and silky. Mmmm. I threw a few odds and ends into my black purse and I was ready to go.

I glanced at my pretty nails as I caressed the steering wheel of my trusty, very cute VW Cabriolet. Janet did a good job, and they match my dress! How lucky is that?

Thad left me some room in the driveway to park close to the house. How thoughtful! He even had the drive and walkway shoveled. Maybe he isn’t the self-centered jerk I imagined him to be. I guess I’ve developed a negative attitude toward guys cos of all the bullying and harassment I’ve endured over the years. I’ve got to be mindful of that.

I opened the front door and waltzed into the house. There were a few guys milling about the living room so I gave them a “Merry Christmas boys!” and did a little twirl, a kick of the hip and a flip of the hair. I guess Josh was right when he called me a ham!

“Oh wow, oh wow, Stevie, could you do that again? That was awesome, but I wasn’t ready for it,” Stewart said excitedly, lifting his camera to his shoulder. All the other guys were just slack-jawed. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“‘Course, Stewie! Anything for you!” I cooed, making him blush. “Ready?” He nodded and I reprised my role as Christmas Vixen. Isn’t that one of Santa’s reindeer? I believe it is. I then strutted into the kitchen, where I heard the demolition man at work, while Stewart filmed me. “Hey Teddy!” I gave Thad my best Marilyn Monroe. The look on his face was priceless, just ask Stewart.

“Oh my god that was priceless!” Stewart blurted excitedly.

Thad gave Stewart a scowl, then he turned to me with a bemused expression. “Um, yeah, so why are you dressed like that?”

“What do you mean? Don’t you like it?” I pouted.

“Well, sure, you look beautiful, but…is this how you’re gonna dress for the demo? The, uh, video demo, I mean. It’s a bit…”

“Too much?” I offered.

“I dunno. I mean, this is a construction site, not a fashion shoot. I don’t want you to get dirty, or injured. I mean, high heels?” He said. He really did seem concerned.

I said, “You’re right, of course. I just thought I’d give you a taste of the real me. I’ll tone it down during construction, then maybe I can vamp it up for my decorating segment? Speaking of which, how much do I have to spend on furniture and decor? Oh, and I have lots of ideas for design; I was thinking modern Tuscany. This is an older neighborhood of big, gorgeous Victorian and Georgian houses; lots of wood and stone. We don’t want to do this on the cheap, do we?”

“Well, no,” he began. “If we get the gig with HGTV we’ll have a bit more money, at least later on, so let’s make sure we nail this. Then you can have double the hundred thousand I was planning on. I want to make half a mil on this one. This is my biggest one yet. I trust you. I’ve gone over your portfolio and your work is impressive. Let’s just, I don’t know, make it look good without getting crazy? You know what I mean?”

“Well, Teddy, that’s my superpower - gorgeous on a budget. So, Tuscany, yea or nay?”

“I think that would be perfect, actually.” He conceded.

“And Christmas, yea or nay?” I asked.

“Whaddya mean? Yeah, I like Christmas.” He answered.

I giggled. “I mean, can I do a bit of decorating for Christmas? I think buyers would eat it up. You’re aiming for a pre-Christmas open house, right?”

“Oh, right,” He frowned. Then he smiled. “Stevie, you’re genius!”

“Please, you’ll give me a big head!” I grinned and giggled. “So, I was thinking Victorian Christmas.”

“Nice. Okay. First, you nail down what you want for cabinets and appliances and fixtures. Can you let me know by like Monday?”

“Three days? Wow, um, I guess so. Let’s hope my superpowers hold up. Okay. So, where can I set up with my laptop?”

“You’re not gonna change first?” He enquired. “Not that you don’t look sensational and all, but…” He blushed.

“Well, I didn’t bring a change of clothes, so I guess I just have to chance it. Got a clean tarp or piece of plastic or something?”

He gave a melodramatic sigh, “Women!” He exclaimed, causing my heart to leap happily.

One of the boys, Rick, I think, set me up in a corner of the kitchen with a piece of wood on two sawhorses for a desk and an old lawn chair covered in a bath towel for a seat. Ah, the glamorous life of a home design maven. I set up my laptop and brought up my schematics.

“Teddy? Can I show you something?” I asked, interrupting his total destruction of a cabinet. “Um, first, do you have to totally destroy the cabinetry? It would be awesome to donate it to Habitat for Humanity or something. You could get a tax credit you know?”

“Oh shit!” He blurted. “I never thought of that. That would be cool, wouldn’t it? Okay, I’ll be more careful. Good catch.”

“Great. Okay. So this is the kitchen.” I said, showing him my 3-D mockup while tucking my hair behind my ear. “I think buyers today are going to want a more modern flow. A more open feel. Do you think we could take out that wall?” I pointed to the wall in question. “That would open it up into the living room. We could put in a breakfast counter or a large island. Whaddya think?”

“Well, that’s a great thought, but I’ll have to see if the wall is load bearing. If it is, I’ll need another man to help me shore it up, so…” He left it hanging.

“Lemme call my brother. He’s in construction. I bet he would help out for a pizza and a six pack. Okay?” I offered.

Thad smiled. God, I love it when he smiles. Pearly whites and dimples in a sea of fabulous stubble. I gotta make him do more of that! He replied, “Yeah! Do it! I think I can swing a pizza and some beer.”

“We can have a whole pizza party thing with your undergrad minions, too. When should we do it?” I asked.

“Well, let me check the joists real quick.” He said and began his way down the basement stairs. When he returned, he seemed happy. “It’s most likely load bearing; it’s perpendicular to the joists.”

“So, why are you so happy?” I queried.

“We getta have a pizza party!” He blurted, raising his arms, causing me to giggle.

“Kegger!” I heard from the peanut gallery in the living room.

“Hey, that’s an idea. I can buy a keg! See if your brother can come tomorrow. I’ll check with the guys; see if they wanna work on a Saturday.”

“I’ll be here with my toga on!” Stewart quipped from the doorway.

“Oooh, I’d love to see that, Stewie,” I cooed.

#

So, Saturday I decided to dress down a bit. I was going to the house again. I like the ambience of a renovation to get my juices flowing. Plus, I wanted to be there for Josh and pizza! My brother agreed to help out ‘whenever you need a hand.’ I love my brother.

My house party outfit was black leggings with a cute black and white buffalo checked long-sleeved blouse, tied with a belt. I would just wear my cute hiking boots - don’t wanna get impaled by a nail, or break a nail for that matter. I put my hair up in a kicky ponytail and made my way to the kitchen. Josh was there with coffee and a newspaper.

“I can’t believe they still make those old-school papers. Aren’t you afraid of a paper cut?” I quipped.

“Morning.” He grumped. He’s not a morning person. “Dang, we don’t leave until ten, why’re you all prettied up already?”

“Just in a good mood. I love having a project to sink my teeth into. It’s just so much fun!” I exuded.

Then my countenance fell. “You know, I kinda miss Christmas time at home. Even with getting all the wrong presents every year, I still liked everything else. The tree and decorations and Christmas music playing. Mom letting me bake cookies with her and all the good food; having company. I really miss it. I kinda miss mom and dad, too. Please, don’t ask me why.”

“Yeah,” Josh began, “it hasn’t been the same, though, with you not being there the last couple years.”

“I couldn’t take them being on me for being too ‘fruity’ all the time. I think dad got out his thesaurus so he could berate me on multiple levels, you know? I thought being gay would be something they could come to deal with. I mean, it’s not a big deal any more.” I mused, sadly.

“I think if you weren’t so girly, they could probably deal with it. You know, don’t ask, don’t tell? If you looked and acted like a guy?” He said.

“I suppose you’re right, but there was only so far I was willing to go. I can be as stubborn as they are, I guess. It was just way too hard, trying to be masculine. It’s just not me.” I lamented.

“I know that, and I’m glad you’re finally being your true self. I think we should try to think of a way to get through to them. I’d love to have you come to Christmas with me. I’ve told them off and threatened to boycott them, but they’re just so bull-headed.” He stated with a growl.

I blurted, “You didn’t! I told you not to do that, Josh. You don’t have to suffer because of me. I mean, I appreciate it and all, but I don’t want you to ruin your relationship over me. I’m not worth it.”

“Girl - and trust me on this - you are absolutely and entirely worth it. You’re a better and cooler person than both of them put together.” He declared.

A tear rolled down my cheek as I hugged him. “Thanks Joshie.” I whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sis. Let’s put our heads together. I mean, they are our parents, so I’d really like to figure this out. You, of all people, shouldn’t be an outcast.” He assured me with a squeeze. “I’m lucky I get to have you all the time. Living with you has been so wonderful; incredible.” He gave me a wistful smile.

“Ditto,” I said with a grin; then I got on my tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek.

I plopped my laptop down on our kitchen table and got to work. Josh helped me figure out the top three cabinet makers in the area, then I moved onto appliances. Lowe’s had good Christmastime deals going on so I had that going for me. I was going back and forth with the idea of having custom paneled doors on the appliances, or letting the sleek and modern stainless steel look rule. I’d have to ask Thad on that one. I did decide on Bosch appliances, though, and two ovens and two microwaves. That was non-negotiable. I think. I giggled. Everything in this life is negotiable, I’ve learned. Ah, except expressing your gender identity. You either do it or you go nuts. Add that to the list of sure things - death, taxes, gender identity. So there!

Anyways, whoever buys this house is going to be a wealthy professional, so we need to appoint the house accordingly. Though, I guess we could rent appliances as part of the staging of the house and let the buyers choose and supply their own. But I want to choose everything! Gosh, so much to consider. Gaah! I really need to have a business lunch with Thad and I’m not sure that today’s kegger is going to be the right environment. Or maybe it’s the perfect environment. Get him a little tipsy and have my way with him. I’m talking business - get your mind out of the gutter! Giggle.

“Earth to Stevie!” I heard, somewhere out in the ether.

I looked up and Josh was smiling and shaking his head. “Boy, you sure know how to focus. Whatcha thinking so hard about?”

“Oh, I’ve got myself going over appliances and decor and I haven’t even touched the stuff Thad needs right away. You know, the built-in thingies.” I moped.

“Is that a technical term, maybe from the course on doohickies and doodads?” He snorted.

“I’ll have you know that Academy of Art is a well-respected university.” I said, snootily. “And the thingamajig course taught me the difference between doodads and doohickies, so money well spent. Seriously, being in San Francisco was a major bonus. Ooh, we should go sometime. I can show you all the cool places.” I was on a good ramble now. “You know, when I was pretending to be gay, I tried all these gay bars. Utter disaster by the way. I only got hit on by the girls, the lesbians. Not a single guy, ever!” I pouted. “I guess that was a good clue, huh?”

Josh laughed. “I’ll say! Though it makes me wonder why you never went through puberty. Not a guy one anyway. I guess that’s lucky for you, huh?”

“Yeah. Never went through a girl puberty either - no boobs.” I gestured to my embarrassingly flat chest. “When I was thirteen I thought I was getting ‘em, but then the growth went away.” I said softly as my mind drifted and went into muse mode. “Reminds me, I’ve gotta go see an endocrinologist. I think it’s time. Well, past time, really.”

“An endo…” Josh struggled.

“...crinologist. For like hormones; you know, girl juice? I guess going to those gay bars wasn’t a total waste of time. Some of the female impersonators were actually trans. The only job they could get, I guess. I learned a lot from those girls. It totally miffed them - offended their conscience - to be thought of as impersonators when they saw themselves as real girls; flawed, but real.”

“Everyone’s flawed to some degree. Even me!” He grinned, extending his arms, one of which I gave a girly swat. “Show me a person without a flaw and I’ll show you a person that hasn’t lived; never loved, never been burned - their lack of a flaw is the biggest flaw of all. It’s the imperfections that make a person interesting.”

“You have hidden depths, my lovely brother. So, do you find me interesting?” I prodded with a wry smile.

“Girl, I find you utterly fascinating.” Was that a diss? “I hope Mr. Thaddeus T. Williams appreciates what he’s got. You know, if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

“Oh Josh, I hope you’ll be nice to him; I really need this job.” I implored.

“I wasn’t talking about the job.” Huh?

#

Josh and I got to the house spot on ten o’clock. Traffic’s not quite as bad on a Saturday. So I guess Stewart moonlights as the doorman to Chez Williams, because he was the one who greeted us. “Hey Stewie!” I enthused. “You ready for the big bash?”

He paused, then began laughing, “Oh, I get it, because we’re gonna take down a wall and then have a party. We’ll be like the Israelites at Jericho, eh?” I rolled my eyes, but I have to admit, that was pretty clever.

“Okay Mr. clever clogs, where’s the big bad boss?” I asked as I looked around the living room, or is it called a drawing room? Anyway, it was set up with mismatched lawnchairs and Home Depot buckets. My makeshift desk was being pressed into duty as a pizza buffet, only sporting dozens of red Solo^TM cups and napkins at the moment. Thad’s a regular Martha Stewart. This must be how she decorated her jail cell, I mused cynically. Poor Martha. Remind me not to engage in insider trading. But, I digress.

“Did I hear my partner in crime come in?” Thad grinned as he came from around the corner, passing the fireplace, which had a roaring fire going. He gave me a once over. “Now that’s a more appropriate outfit! Still model gorgeous, but more like from a Des Moines runway rather than Paris.”

I giggled and gave him a hug. Oops! Why did I do that? So unprofessional. I pushed away. “Hi Teddy. How are things coming?” I looked up at him, then scanned the room. Stewart was recording everything, as were Rick and John, also known as Koko and Stalin - I’m guessing that John’s nickname was because of his giant bushy moustache. They were ever present, but I’ve learned to ignore the filming, mostly.

Thad answered, “Great! It’s all great. On schedule so far, and getting this wall taken care of is going to help a lot. Thanks for coming Josh.” He shook my brother’s hand, then turned back to me. “The massive rough-hewn beam you found was delivered last night, along with the smaller ones for the fireplace and door frames. It’s gonna look amazing.” He seemed really pleased. Gold star for me! He turned back to Josh. “Your sister is a miracle worker.”

Josh gave me a side hug. “She sure is, but can she make pizza?”

“I can order pizza!” I chimed. “In fact, I’m a professional. Speaking of which, you two boys go play ‘Bob the builder’ while I scare up some more miracles and light fixtures and stuff.” With that, I opened my laptop and got busy. Both Michael’s and Hobby Lobby had 50% sales going on, so I fired up Thad’s credit card and practically bought out both stores. I would go pick up the stuff Monday. But now it’s time to party!

The guys all had their girlfriends come over, even Stewie! Good for him. The girls didn’t seem overly impressed with the ambience, but they seemed nice enough. I thought it was a real swanky gala, but to each his own, I guess.

I chatted with the girls and crew, and Josh and Thad talked quite a bit over near the new beam they installed. I guess they were stuck with each other since neither of them had girlfriends apparently, at least not ones amenable to such swank. The Keg was getting a workout and the pizza was a hit. It was what Thad called ‘Chicago Style.’ It had a thin crust and it was actually super yummy.

Suddenly I felt a hand grab mine. I looked and it was Thad’s. My heart leapt. “Come with me,” he murmured and pulled me toward the fireplace. Gulp. In front of the well-stoked fire was one of my Tuscan beams trestled across two buckets. So romantic!

We sat, staring at the fire. “You’re doing a hell of a job Stevie,” He began. It’s probably not the best time, but I’d like to go over our game plan.” His eyes were only slightly beer-glazed, and they were still mesmerizing. Get a grip girl, he wants to talk about work.

“Game plan?” I asked obtusely. I told you, I’m not good at sports. Then I inferred his meaning via context. “Oh, right. I guess I need to ask you about existing fixtures, flooring and bathrooms. What all you want to update. Do we want to do just enough to entice, or do a full makeover to blow them away?”

“I didn’t mean the house, Stevie; I meant, will you give me a second chance? Let me take you to dinner? Maybe dancing?” He stared me right in the eyes. My heart raced.

“Teddy, just how much have you had to drink?” I asked, taken aback by this turn of events. Here I thought he was just tolerating me, now he wants to go on a date?

“Just two.” He stated. “Believe me, I am completely clear headed.”

I lowered my voice further, “You do remember who I am? I can’t have children, you know.”

He laughed. “Wow, that’s jumping ahead! I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought of that, but I mean it when I say it doesn’t matter. If we’re going that far into the future, I guess we could adopt. But, how ‘bout we start with a simple date first? If, if you want to, I mean…God, I suck at this.”

“What do you suck at?” I prodded.

“Talking to beautiful women.” He said, making my eyes go wide. I doubt I’ll ever believe that I’m a beautiful woman - too much scar tissue.

“Oh Teddy, you’re doing fine,” I assured him. Who would have thought it? The great Thaddeus T. Williams has a chink in his armor. He just got even cuter. “And, you also need glasses.”

“See, that’s just it. You don’t even know you’re beautiful and that makes you even more attractive.”

“Do you know you’re extremely handsome?” I tested.

He laughed again. “I have been told, mostly by my mother.” I had to smile at that. I gave him a little shoulder bump and he leaned into it. We were touching now and my body was buzzing. He looked into my eyes and leaned in further. I tilted my head up hopefully. That hope was soon requited with a soft kiss. I melted inside and closed my eyes, returning his kiss gently.

This was not the business meeting I was expecting. “Okay, back on topic.” He said, as if this were a board meeting. “You never answered my question. Dinner, yea or nay?”

I turned to him and raised my arms. “Yay!” I sang out in a little girl voice. That brought on the dimples as he smiled and shook his head.

#

Sunday morning, Josh and I were at the kitchen table again, indulging in our morning ritual. I get the New York Times online and I was doing the crossword puzzle, when Josh spoke up. “Since you missed Thanksgiving, I asked mom if you could come for Christmas.”

“You did what?” I wasn’t so much angry as flabbergasted. His eyebrow went up and I took a long sip of my coffee. “So, what did she say?”

“She said you could come if you behaved.”

“What? What the heck does that mean? I’m always well behaved, I mean, she’s even criticized me for being ‘too sweet and solicitous.’ Her words. I kid you not.” I was starting to get revved up. Mom has the habit of doing that.

“That’s not what she meant. I think you know what ‘behaving’ means to her.” Josh said.

I took another sip of my coffee, then nodded my head. “Yeah, she means I need to look and act like a man. Well, you know damned well that’s not going to happen.”

It was his turn to nod. “I know that. So, and don’t hate me for this, I emailed her all the research I’ve done on being transgender.”

My eyes widened. “You’ve done research?”

“Of course. I wanted to try to understand it. Mom knows damned well that you’re transgender, but she refuses to believe it’s a real thing. You know, she watches FOX Noise.”

“Don’t I know it. Her personality totally changed once she got hooked on their fear-and-hate-mongering nonsense. She’s been brainwashed. She became a total bitch, spewing their abhorrent talking points no matter what the conversation was. It makes me want to scream. I think she needs an intervention or deprogramming or something.”

He nodded. “I know what you mean. I agree, she’s gone to the dark side. Anyway, I edited all the research - all the evidence and proof - so that that her FOX-addled brain could understand it. I also reminded her of the scientific method, since she seems to have forgotten that science is a real thing, too. Another part of science is observation, so I also reminded her of all things Stevie, the girl. The oh so obvious girl.” He grinned, then took a sip of coffee.

“Wow. So, have you heard back from her?” I asked.

“I have.”

“And?” God, he could drag things out.

“She’s willing to give it a try.” He said.

“You’re kidding!” I almost snorted coffee out my nose.

“Nope. Scouts honor.” Josh held up two fingers. “And, I suggest you dress to the nines. Don’t soft-peddle it for them, hit them right between the eyes!”

I laughed. “Okay. Cool. So, um, Christmas Eve?”

“Yep. Don’t get mad, but she said she’s not inviting anyone else. Just us, you know, cos this is apparently so embarrassing and all.” He said, rolling his eyes. “At least she’s trying, right?”

“Oh yes, she’s very trying!”

#

Come Monday morning I had a lot on my mind. Mom and dad; work; endocrinologist; yada yada. It’s a good thing I’m a proficient multitasker. I ordered the most amazing red granite countertops for the kitchen, and antique bronze plumbing fixtures for throughout the house. Josh said I could replace all the dated lighting, too. He said this was our big shot and he was willing to take a hit on profit if it meant we could get the HGTV gig. I was so excited, I was vibrating in my cute ankle boots.

Josh had already gone off to work and I was waiting for my Christmas decor deliveries. So, I decided to take a few minutes and make an appointment with an endocrinologist. Better late than never, right? She had an opening for next week! I couldn’t believe I could get in so soon! I was so excited. Then I downloaded both the ‘DR 2083 Change of Sex Designation’ form from the DMV and the birth certificate correction form. The process is way easier than I was expecting. Colorado really is quite extraordinary. I could get a new drivers’ license right away, but the birth certificate takes more than a month, which is fine by me. I’ve already waited 22 years after all. One thing I wanted to ponder, though, is whether to change my name again. Stevie is kinda cute, but it’s not entirely a girl’s name. I could ask mom what she would have named me if I had been assigned female at birth, but I don’t think our current state of affairs is going to allow that. She’s probably gonna need a bit of time to adjust. Likely a decade or two, I’m guessing. But, Christmas is at least a step in the right direction. I hope.

I’ll need to buy two more presents now. Jeez, what to buy for a mom and dad who’ve been opposed to your very being for twenty years? Hmmm, let me think. Oooh, maybe a doll with a removable penis? I giggled. Like Teddy said, he may be woke, but he hasn’t had his coffee yet. That was so cute. Mom and dad are more like not woke and totally in the middle of REM sleep!

So, seriously, they are gonna be tricky to buy for. I guess I could get them gift cards, but that’s so impersonal… Actually, I think I’ll go with clothing and show off my feminine skills in couture. That’s the ticket! I’ll have to ask Josh if he knows their sizes. I knew them back in the day, but it’s been a few years. They may have grown, at least with regards to their physical bodies. I don’t hold out a lot of hope for spiritual or intellectual growth, but maybe I’m being too cynical. Time will tell.

Our doorbell camera thingy announced that someone was at the front door. My decor! I hurried to the door and my jaw dropped. I had forgotten that I’d ordered a full-sized christmas tree, and the other boxes were huge, too! There’s no way I could drag all that stuff inside. So, what’s a girl to do? Call a big strong guy, that’s what! I texted Josh to see if he could come home for lunch. I could just see him rolling his eyes as he read of my dilemma. “I’ll buy you lunch!” I texted. “Vinnola’s,” He replied.

That meant he wanted a Vinnola’s Italian beef sandwich. Now I wanted one, too! I added several other odds and ends from the Italian deli/market since I was going to have to pay for delivery anyway. I couldn’t leave the house with all my goodies sitting out front, could I? This is a decent neighborhood, but I couldn’t bear to take the chance that my boxes would walk off on me.

I set the table and made sure we had two cold Pepsi’s^TM waiting for us, then I just chilled. Not my strong suit. I put Andrea Bocelli on for background music, since we’re gonna have Italian food. Well, it’s sorta Italian. I like to base my dinner music on the ethnicity of the food I’m serving; I’m cute that way. So, then I grabbed my Tuscan Homes magazine and started browsing, or what I call ‘research.’ I love my job!

#

After Josh moved all my stuff into the garage and we ate our lunch (so delicious!) I puttered my way over to the project house, bringing some of the new decor with me. I have to wait for the furniture to arrive before I can really decorate, but I can throw a few things up to make things more festive.

Thad was running this monstrous circular sander thingy over the hardwood floors we found when we removed the tacky carpeting. That was a major bonus, even if not entirely unexpected. I can’t wait until he applies the dark walnut stain I picked out, it’s gonna be so gorgeous! It’ll be so Tuscan, so Florentine. ‘Course, their stain was applied by the passage of centuries, ours is from Minwax^TM. What’re you gonna do? We only have three weeks before the open house, so…you do the math.

I tapped Thad on the shoulder. He stopped the machine and removed his earphones. “Hey Stevie, what’s up?”

“Hi Teddy. Look, I brought Christmas with me! It was left on my doorstep with a note pinned to it’s chest.” I quipped, causing his dimples to flare up again. “I’ve got a couple wreaths, a couple little houses, and, wait for it…mistletoe!” I really wanted to hold up the mistletoe and give him a big kiss, but I wasn’t sure if our kiss the other night was a beer-induced hallucination. So, I decided to just hang it up and let the cards fall, or the chips, or whatever.

I still couldn’t believe this rich, gorgeous guy would be interested in me, so I had to assume he was drunk during our previous encounter. “Stevie?” He called and I spun around. He was standing under the mistletoe as fate would have it.

“Yes Teddy?” I breathed.

“Um…you know what? Never mind.” He shook his head and put his headphones back on and started up that infernal machine again. Well, shit.

I pouted my way back to my ersatz desk and plopped my laptop down on it. Okay girl, just get to work. You need to pick out the staging furniture. I pulled up the website for the best furniture leasing company in town, reputedly, and was really disappointed in the available options in the premium packages. I need to be able to pick and choose, so I’m going to have to shop around. I found a place with a lot of cool stuff and prerented items will save us a lot of money. If I was buying, I could get exactly what I wanted, but I think I can still make do and have it look really nice. I was getting excited.

#

After a week of herding cats on the job site, things were really coming together. The tile guys really made the bathrooms look like high-end spas and I was seriously tempted to move in. At least temporarily. Thad had uncovered some really nice brick around the fireplaces and we were going to leave it exposed. I told him to leave some of the damaged plaster and he agreed it looked spectacular. He had put up the gorgeous rough-hewn beams around the doorways and fireplace mantel. That immediately transported me to Italy. I was really proud of how this was all coming together.

Finally, my trip to the endocrinologist arrived. I had been so busy, I hadn’t had time to fret about it. Keeping with my Italian theme, I wore an ecru sweater dress with a black belt and a pair of black D’orsay pumps. Tres chic! Or I should say molta bella! I strutted into the doctor’s office portraying way more confidence than I was feeling. I was called back several minutes later.

I was in the silly paper gown that covers nothing and told to hop up onto the examination table. I actually had to put my feet up into a pair of stirrups! I felt so exposed at that moment. My embarrassing appendage was about to be seen by another human being. Gaah!

Dr. Franzen manipulated my, erm, scrotum. “Interesting,” She murmured, then she looked up at me. “Did you know you don’t have testicles?”

“Yeah, I guess. I kinda just tried to ignore it.” I managed to squeak out. “When I was young, the boys would take great delight in kicking me, um, down there. The pain was excruciating, and one time, J.J., Jimmy Jacobs, I’ll never forget him, kicked me super hard down there at least a dozen times on my way home from school. I truly thought I was going to die, and about that time I didn’t care if I did. Anyway, my parents had to come get me. I was still curled up in a ball on the ground when they found me. They blamed me! Can you believe it? If I wasn’t such a sissy, it wouldn’t have happened, they said. I brought it on myself, they said.” A tear rolled down my cheek and Dr. Franzen squeezed my hand.

“Shhh, it’s okay now. It’s not your fault.” She cooed.

“Yeah. Well, they didn’t even take me to the hospital and the pain lasted like two weeks. They made me go to school and I could hardly walk or think straight.”

“My god. Your parents could’ve gone to jail from what you’ve told me. I’m appalled.” She seethed. “Anyway, this explains why you never went through puberty.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry about that. J.J. did me the biggest favor. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve gone down a path I never wanted to travel. I really should thank him.”

“Well, that’s putting a positive spin on things.” She smiled. “You’re a remarkable girl.”

I walked out of Dr. Franzen’s office with a Barbie bandaid on my hip. I finally had estrogen flowing through my veins! The secret sauce. I grinned and giggled my way to the elevator, causing a little girl to notice me and say, “Wow, she’s really pretty, mommy. Don’t you think she’s pretty?” I smiled even wider as I pressed the down button. That little girl was really cute. I suddenly got a little wistful.

But I was feeling pretty good when I waltzed into the project house. Thad was installing one of the lighting fixtures I had picked out. “Wow, that looks even better than I imagined, Teddy!”

He smiled. “Doesn’t it though? You really know how to pick ‘em, girl! This is the best project I’ve ever done. I guess I should thank Denise.” He came down from his ladder.

“Denise?” I asked.

“Yeah, she brought you to me.” He said softly, looking into my eyes. Rick was the only cameraman today, and he filmed me turning into a puddle of goo. Then Thad grabbed my gooey hand and led me to the library. “What do you think? He asked.

“Oh wow, Teddy.” I whispered. I went speechless for a moment. “When I found those windows, I knew they would be totally perfect. Just look at them!” I like to go to antique stores and flea markets and estate sales and call it work-related research. It’s so fun, especially when I find a real treasure like these leaded glass arched windows, still in the original frames. They were spectacular. I bet someone replaced them with aluminum double-glazed windows with zero personality. Lucky for me!

We were still standing there, holding hands, looking at and through the windows. He turned and looked me in the eyes. He practically whispered, “You really are remarkable. You’re a remarkable…” He paused and I stared up at him breathlessly.

“Yes?” I prodded.

He tore his eyes away from me and resumed looking at the windows. “Um, a remarkable designer.”

After I picked up my fallen crest, I managed a little smile. “Thank you, Teddy” I pulled my hand away from his and had to chastise myself for falling for this guy. Sure, he’s gorgeous and electrifies me, but what else do I know about him? He obviously doesn’t feel about me… wait! I just remembered he asked me on a date. And he kissed me. Was that when he was inebriated, though?

I thought I’d test the waters. “So, Teddy, where are you taking me on our date?”

“Hmm? Oh, right, sorry, we’ve been so busy, I completely… I was thinking of Elway’s actually. Does that sound good?” Elway’s is a great steak place, kinda ritzy, that I’ve been wanting to go to but could never afford.

“Oh yes,” I replied. “That sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to try it. Um, text me with the details, huh?”

“You bet. Come on.” He led me out of the library, which I would have to fill with a thousand books next week. I’ll have to hit the Goodwill, or something. I wonder where all the previous owner’s books went? Prolly an estate sale. Ooh, that’s what I’ll do - they sell them by the lot!

#

December 22. D-Day. Or, the date that will live in infamy! One of those WWII references anyway. This is the day my furniture arrives and I get to pull an all-nighter doing the funnest part of my job. I would be really busy, and probably getting dirty, so I just put on a pair of cute corduroy leggings and an old tunic-length sweater. Well, on little ol’ me it’s a tunic! It’s still a designer sweater, though, I’m not a sty-snuffling piggy after all!

The weather had turned really cold and they were predicting a white Christmas, which I was really looking forward to. I should have worn my hair down for the warmth, but I need it in a ponytail for my work, so I just put on a pair of fuzzy earmuffs. I’m not really a hat kinda girl. I flipped my scarf over my shoulder and slid into my car. Janet turned and smiled at me. No, she’s not a stowaway; she had the day off and wanted to come have fun with me. Isn’t that sweet of her?

We sang Christmas carols all the way to the house - she’s really good at harmonizing! I sipped my Starbucks cocoa after I backed into the driveway and parked. I turned to Janet. “Ya’ll ready for this?” I giggled and we started beatboxing the SpaceJam song. I only know it because I love the song “I Believe I Can Fly” and they’re on the same album. Anyway, we each grabbed a box of Christmas decor and giggled our way into the house. Having Janet with me was going to make this an extra fun day!

Ten minutes later, the delivery truck with all my furniture arrived. Omigod! So, I spent the next hour being chief bitch and navigator, getting all the pieces into their correct spots. Finally, the delivery guys left muttering and I plopped down onto the dark sage green damask sofa and sighed, allowing a little smile to curl the corners of my mouth. I mused how crazy this month had been. Got my biggest design job ever - well, that wasn’t hard as I’ve only been doing this for six months. I finally accepted that I’m a woman and not a femme gay man. I found out that I don’t have testicles (#sorrynotsorry) and I’m now on estrogen! That has to be the most mind-blowing of all. I’m falling in love with my work partner. Okay, that’s pretty mind-blowing as well. Let’s see, my drivers’ license now has an ‘F’ on it instead of an ‘M.’ You know, I still pull it out every day to look at it. And tomorrow I visit my parents for the first time in three years. And I’m going as a girl, dressed to the nines! Wow.

Beside me, Janet said, “Yeah, wow.”

“Oh! Did I say that out loud?” How embarrassing.

“Yeah, the place looks great, Stevie. You are…” She looked around, then into my eyes, “...really talented.” Her face resembled something in the realm of awestruck. But, okay, good, she didn’t hear all the other stuff that was going through my addled mind. Yeah, it’s all good.

Then I beamed. “Guess what time it is?”

“Lunch?” She proposed.

I rolled my eyes. “No silly; it’s time to decorate! Wait ‘til you see all the fun stuff I got!” Actually, it was getting close to lunch time, so I ordered Chinese food for delivery. I got enough for Stewie and Stalin, too. They’ve been filming all the excitement today. I can’t wait until we see the final edit. We’re gonna include it as part of the New Years Eve festivities. We decided to throw a party here at the house. We made it absolutely perfect for entertaining large groups. That’ll be such fun!

It was my idea to have another open house on New Years Eve, with champagne and hors d'oeuvres and all that, going into the night for all those who wanted to stay. I hope it’s not a total drunken disaster after all our hard work. If things go well at mom and dad’s day after tomorrow, I’m thinking of asking them to come. Really not counting on that one, though.

I had filled the basement with hundreds of great finds, so we, the four of us, made the trek up and down the stairs and I directed the items to their proper locales. By three o’clock I was ready to start decorating! I was hoping to be out by midnight, but you never know. I’m Janet’s ride, so I told her she could sleep in the master bedroom if she didn’t want to Uber home. I’m not selfless enough to drive her home in the middle of decor day! She said she was in it to the bitter end with me. Okay, I guess she’s a better person than I am. But I already knew that!

Janet’s eye for decorating is rather good, so I didn’t have to do a whole lot of tweaking, and that extra bit of help got us out of there by 11pm. I was exhausted but happy as we sang our way home.

I sang Janet the song I wrote last Christmas, when I was still in school. I was alone in the dorm over the holidays and feeling sorry for myself as the words just flowed. It was an angst-ridden country song, kinda like the ones where the dog dies, the pickup truck breaks down and the boyfriend runs off with the barmaid:

I walk ‘long the tracks between the haves and have nots
I’ve got nothing but hope to my name
Without a name, I suppose, it’s all just as well
‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

I look down at myself in my hand-me-down rags
And think of all those wrong toys stuffed in bags
And the wrong boys they wander in and out of my life
Sometimes I just wish they’d leave me alone.

I see the girls in their dresses and long flowing tresses
My gorgeous blonde hair’s been cut to my ears
I’d give my left arm for just one doll in my right
If I thought crying would help, I just might.

‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town
And the world seems it’s so upside down
I wanna dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
But it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

I had to steal my nail polish and a lipstick or two
Then I had to just hide them away
‘Cause when your born to be poor in both spirit and soul
You just hope you’ll be dancing one day.

One day at a time, oh if I had a dime
For every time someone said “dear, just smile”
I’d be richer than God in His mansplaining prime
Here’s my shoes, come and walk just a mile.

‘Cause it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town
And the world seems it’s so upside down
I wanna dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
But it’s Christmas on the wrong side of town.

There’s a train rumbling down, I can feel as I walk
There’s the whistle I’d hear if I cared
Then I look over again to the girls I should be
But I live here, for now, I’ll survive.

So I step off the tracks as the train rushes past
Then find myself face to face with a girl
She’s so pretty and sweet, and those heels on her feet
Oh my dear God, that sweet girl is me!

And it was Christmas on the wrong side of town
When the world seemed to be upside down
But now I dance to the music in a red skirt and heels
No more Christmas on the wrong side of town.
No more Christmas on the wrong side of town.

“Oh my god Stevie! That was so awesome! You wrote that? It’s so sad. It’s true, though, isn’t it?” I nodded and smiled. She continued, “And the end! You’re dancing now, aren’t you?”

I looked back to the road. “I think I am.” I whispered.

#

I decided to sleep in the next day. I was just gonna stay home and chill out since my work was done. Thad would be there if any home buyers came by for the open house. I was being a bit obsessive, but I sent him a text telling him what lights to turn on and to light the fireplace and the enticing and fragrant Christmas candles. I told him to text me if there was any news. He texted me around noon to tell me that about twenty people had come to look at the house, but he guessed maybe half of them were just lookie-loos. Still, ten’s not bad.

I spread out on the couch in my sweatpants and hoodie and watched a cute Hallmark Christmas movie I had recorded. I try to watch every one that Kimberley Sustad stars in. She is absolutely flipping amazing!

After the movie, I decided to make a huge pot of beef barley soup with steak we had leftover from a couple days before. I try not to eat a lot of steak, because I can picture the poor cows’ faces with those big dewy cow eyes staring at me, pleading. So sweet. Why do they have to be so damned delicious, too! Grrr! I’m so conflicted…Story of my life.

I still had a couple hours before Josh got home, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to pick out my outfit for tomorrow night. I went to my bedroom and closed the door. My modesty extends even to an empty house; or is it shame? Lately I’ve been thinking about having my biggest shame removed. It’s certainly not the first time I’ve thought about getting rid of the damned thing, but it is the first time I have absolutely no doubt about its removal. A penectomy - sounds painful, but it couldn’t be any worse than the pain I felt when my testicles were destroyed. That’s impossible.

I stood naked in front of my mirror. I could finally look right; feel right; be whole. I could finally be the girl that’s always cowered or scratched and clawed within me. That flawed girl. Hers is a beautiful flaw. A necessary flaw. I am wabi-sabi. I learned that in my aesthetics course. Wabi-sabi is a traditional Japanese aesthetic concept, or world view, based on the acceptance of transience and imperfection; the appreciation of beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete" in nature. Yep, that’s me - I will always be imperfect and incomplete, as are we all. I must remember that.

It’s just that mine is an imperfection that most people don’t understand. They can’t comprehend it. And it has to do with sex, so it’s rife with confused and passionate feelings. Many fear it because it strikes at their ingrained concepts, their world view, their self-image. It can feel intensely threatening to them. That leads to anger and irrational behavior that is actually rational in its aims - to keep the very foundations of their world stable.

I sighed. I have been born to walk a lonely, sometimes terrifying, path. But it is a path that must be taken. Socrates said, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” I would add that the inauthentic life is not worth living. I strive for authenticity. And my authentic self is undeniably female.

I only hope my parents can come to terms with that fact. Can I persuade them to allow the love a parent usually feels for their child to override their fears and preconceptions? Can they overwrite the script of their foundational texts? Shouldn’t a parent be willing to do that for their child? I can only hope so.

I shook my head. That’s enough philosophizing for one afternoon! It was actually pretty easy to choose my outfit for Christmas Eve. I would wear my cranberry sweater dress again. It’s the most Christmassy thing I own, after all. I really need to diversify my wardrobe! This time I would add a gorgeous silver belt and, though it’s supposed to be quite cold, my silver strappy heels. My makeup I plan to do an evening look with smoky eyes. I know the look is a bit sexy, but like Josh said, ‘hit them between the eyes!’

I returned to the sofa and sat with my legs curled under me. I grabbed my phone and texted Thad. “How r things?”

“Amazing. I think we’re going to have a bidding war on our hands. Everybody loved what u did btw!” He texted back. “Going to head home now. Was a good day.”

“That’s awesome.” I texted. Now, here goes nothing. “U doing anything tomorrow nite?”

“LOL, no, probably order Chinese takeout and watch a movie.”

“That’s sad! Been there, done that, tho, tbh,” I replied. “Wanna meet the parents?” I tried. Please please please! I need all the support I can get.

“Pardon?”

“Josh and I are going over to mom and dad’s for xmas eve dinner and festivities. Wld love if you could join us.” I said.

A minute passed without a reply. Shit. Then my phone rang in my hands, causing me to startle and drop it on the floor. As I reached for it, I fell between the sofa and the coffee table. Well, this is just great. I lay there and looked at the screen. Thad!

“Um, hi.” I answered softly.

“Hey Stevie. So, is this a big step or just a coincidental confluence of events?”

“Oh, totally coincidental and confluential. I don’t need their approval of my boyfriends.” I said, still laying on the floor looking at the ceiling. Is that a crack?

“Am I your boyfriend?” Oh shit, did I call him my boyfriend? This is why I like texting, I can edit my big mouth.

“Um, no, of course not! I mean, unless you wanna be?” I sputtered.

“Yes, I think I would like that. Very much.” He said softly.

“Really?” I smiled. “Me too.”

“So, what time is this little get-together? What’s the dress code? Should I bring something?” He rattled off.

“Oh Teddy, thank you! Um, it’s an all-day type thing, starting at noon. And just dress Christmassy, no suit and tie. Maybe a sweater? I don’t mean…well, it’s not an ugly Christmas sweater party or anything.” I couldn’t feel my tongue any more.

“It’s okay, I think I know just the thing. And I’ll just bring a bottle of wine, will that work?” He asked. “Oh, what about a fruitcake?”

“That would be lovely, Teddy.” I cooed.

“Okay then. I’ll pick you up shortly before noon, okay?”

“Thanks Teddy, that would be great!”

Josh came in the front door and I was still laying on the floor. “What’s this?” He looked concerned for a moment then he smiled. “So, are you the floor model? In as-is condition, I presume?”

“Silly,” I said, sitting up. “Dropped my phone. Teddy’s gonna come to mom and dad’s tomorrow. He’s gonna pick me up.”

“Really! Wow, that should be…interesting.” He said.

“Bad idea?” I asked.

“No, no, maybe his presence will tame the wild beasts. Keep them in check. Could work out well for you.” He tried.

“I’m not expecting things to go ‘well,’ I just want to avoid a bloodbath.” I said, as Josh helped me up off the floor. I gave Josh a hug. “I just want them to like me, is that so wrong?”

“No, it’s not wrong. Maybe a bit ambitious. Maybe bilious toleration should be the goal. At least for now.”

“What’s ‘bilious’ Mr. Dictionary?”

“Like nauseous, or ill-tempered.” He defined, leading me by the hand to the kitchen table. “Wine?”

“Yes, please. Okay, that sounds about right, bilious…” I trailed off and lay my head in my hands. “Oh Josh, I’m so scared.”

“Don’t worry, Stevie, Thad and I will be there running interference. If worse comes to worse, one of us could drive you home.”

“Oh god, do you think? Jeez, I don’t want Josh to have to deal with a lot of drama. It’s not what he’s made for,” I quoted the Billie Eilish song. ‘What Was I Made For?’ is one of my theme songs. I like to sing it when I’m feeling down. I used to sing it way too often, along with ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ from Les Miz. Sigh.

“How ‘bout I go over early and set some ground rules?” He offered.

“Ground rules? Like what?”

“Like, no lethal weapons. No, seriously, um, how ‘bout no insults, no dead-naming or misgendering?” He said, causing my eyes to widen.

“You really did do research, didn’t you? Oh Joshie!” I gave him a big hug and a tear trickled down my cheek. His masculine scent tweaked my nose.

“Of course I did. Hey, no tears. That’ll be a ground rule for you; put on a thick skin. Do you have one in that massive wardrobe of yours?” He smiled.

“I might be able to scare one up.” I said, not really believing it. “They’ve always known how to push my buttons, though.”

“Yeah, they’re good at that. They even push my buttons. Good thing they’re not in charge of the nuclear arsenal.”

“I know, right?” I giggled. “Okay, you go a few minutes early and prepare the groundwork for me. That’d be great. Should you mention Thad? I wanted him to be a surprise, but I don’t want to cause any heart attacks or anything.”

“I’ll just tell them you’re bringing a boyfriend. Let them get their heads around it before the big reveal. I’ll just say it matter of fact, like they’ll need an extra plate for dinner or whatever.” He said.

“Okay, cool. Do you wanna shower before dinner? I made beef barley soup and fresh bread.” I mentioned.

“Wow, I was wondering what smelled so good. Yeah. Give me five minutes!” He said. Five minutes? Men have it easy don’t they?

#

Christmas Eve morning arrived and as soon as my eyes opened my heart jumped into my throat. God, mom and dad today! Okay, wait, don’t panic, you’re a problem solver, you can do this. Alright, I’ll just pretend. I acted in school, I can do it now. Pretend that everything is normal; pretend that I’m full of confidence; fake it ‘til you make it, right? Gaah!

I put on my robe and made my way to the kitchen to make a special breakfast casserole. It’s one my aunt used to make around the holidays and is absolutely sinful; it has all the basic breakfast foods all in one dish; bread and eggs and cheese and sausage and bacon - yum! I feel my arteries slamming shut already. I hope the fat goes to my hips, butt and boobs. Still no noticeable progress on that front, by the way. It’s only been two weeks, but come on already!

Cooking usually relaxes me, but I don’t think anything can help today. Not even Josh’s joyful, “Good morning sis!” He put his hands on my shoulders. “That smells so good. You are the best cook.” He said, which would usually please me no end. But I was vibrating with tension this morning and I think he could feel it. “It’s gonna be fine.” He tried.

I turned to face him with tears running down my face. “I don’t know if I can do it, Josh. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to despise you and tear you down just for who you are. I mean, I’m a good person, right?”

“You’re the best! Now, you listen to me. If they’re mean to you, that’s not on you, it’s an indictment of their character. I feel sorry for them, really, always angry at the world and finding fault in everybody and everything. Right? So, look on them with pity, and since they are our parents, maybe try to lead them away from the dark side and toward the light? All you have to do is be yourself. Be the sweet, kind, caring person you are. Your very being is the example of what all human beings should strive to be. Maybe that would the best way to inform them, rather than any sermon or tongue-lashing by either of us.”

“Look, I know their kind," he continued, "and they are always trying to persuade or bludgeon people into thinking as they do. Yes, we all want to help fix the people we love, but who determines what is right? I just happen to believe that love trumps hate.”

“God, Josh, why didn’t you ever become a minister? You would have been so good at it.” I said.

“Well, I found out early on that I was way too scientifically minded. And that’s another thing. Mom and dad have been brainwashed into believing that even science can’t be trusted, no matter how overwhelming the evidence. If it doesn’t fit their world view, the science is wrong. So, we have an uphill battle here. We may fail in our quest. As sad as it would be, we may have to cut them loose at the end of this and hope they change in their own time. It’s just, nobody should have to endure what you have for so long. I won’t be a party to it anymore.”

“Oh Josh. You’re the best.” I sniffled. “Are you hungry?”

He feigned exhaustion, slumping against the counter. “Oh, yes ma’am, soliloquies always take a lot out of me.” Omigod, that’s the first time anyone’s called me ma’am! I love it!

I froze the remainder of the casserole in individualized portions. I wanted to give one to Thad and one to Janet, too. I supposed the house was going to be spic and span before the morning’s through; I tend to clean when I am stressed. Oooh, I could take a bath. That would be relaxing, right?

#

I gave myself a once over in the full-length mirror. I kinda think I look too hot for my folks to handle, but that’s sorta the point. Well, looking good is sort of its own point. But, no more hiding, no more faking, no more pretending to be a boy for their sake. I am so done with that. Yeah, that’s a lot of bravado for somebody with a pound of body shapers on. C’mon hormones, do your job already! Oooh, wait’ll they find out I’m on hormones. Oy! This is gonna be a frickin’ nightmayah. Remember Marisa Tomei in My Cousin Vinny? I loved her in that!

I love a man in a sweater and that’s what Josh was wearing when I sat next to him in the living room. “You look nice, Josh.” I said.

“Sorry, I was going to say something similar to you, but I almost swallowed my tongue. Mom and dad are gonna be speechless, but I guess that’s a good thing. Better than the alternative. Shit, I’m starting to get nervous now.”

“No Josh, you can’t. You’re supposed to be my rock. Should I change?” I asked.

Josh balked, “Certainly not! You look gorgeous, and Thad’s gonna love it. He’s a lucky guy.”

“Thanks Josh. You ready to go?” I asked, wringing my hands.

“Um, I guess so.” He said with a quaver. He stood and drew me up with him. “Wish me luck,” he said, giving me a little squeeze.

I watched him go. “Good luck.” My voice trailed off. God, this is terrible; I shouldn’t be alone right now; who knows what nefarious deeds I’m capable of in my condition? I might make the house dirty just so I could clean it again. Or maybe I should make some cookies? Or…the doorbell rang and I jumped. “Eep!”

“Oh, thank god, Thad! You saved me from cleaning the house for the third time this week.” I whined.

“That bad, huh? C’mere.” He took me into a warm cuddly wonderful hug. Ooh, is that cashmere?

We separated, just for him to come back and pull me into a toe-curling kiss. “Wow. Hello boyfriend.” I whispered.

“Hello girlfriend.” He grinned. “You ready to be thrown to the wolves?”

“How did you know?” I asked, looking up into his eyes.

“I’ve learned a lot about you this month, Miss Darling. May I call you darling?” He teased.

“Yes, you may, sweetheart.” I returned, which earned me that big smile of his, with those fathomless eyes and dimples.

“And don’t you worry. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you - ever. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve always wanted to be a knight in shining armor.” He said, his eyes etched with sincerity.

“I’ve always wanted to be protected by a knight in shining armor.” I breathed. “Or carried off by Prince Charming, I always go back and forth.” I giggled.

“Your wish is my command, m’lady.” He said, sweeping me off my feet. I had to roll my eyes at the corniness of it, but this was part of my childhood dreams after all. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on his perfectly stubbled cheek.

“Um, sorry, but I need to get my purse and lock the door. Oooh! My phone!” I splurted. Way to kill the moment, girl.

Then I also remembered the gifts for mom and dad. It’s a good thing they don’t live far away, cos I probably forgot ten other things. Josh moved the wine and fruitcake from the passenger seat to the backseat, then helped me into the car. I can manage fine with heels, but it’s nice to know he’s such a gentleman.

Josh slid in and immediately put a hand on my stocking-clad thigh, nearly sending me through the ragtop of his really cool convertible. “See, I can multitask, too.” He began. “I can be your knight in shining armor; your Prince Charming; and the Beast to your Beauty.” He smiled.

“I told you about that?” I blushed.

“You did. When we first met, do you remember? When you told me you were a boy. I didn’t believe you, but you had me going.” He said as he turned the heat up and clicked on the seat warmers.

“Yeah, about that…” I began.

“Shh, it’s okay. I know you were pretending, for your parents. That’s why I know today is going to be really difficult for you and why I’ll be by your side the whole way. Okay?”

“Thanks Teddy.” I leaned over the center console for another kiss. I take every opportunity I can, so sue me.

#

We were standing at the front door of my parents’ house and I was quaking in my really cute strappy heels. I was either really nervous or really cold, or D: all of the above. Josh interrupted my inner monologue of catastrophizing and chickening out-izing. “It’s gonna be okay. Go ahead, push the button.”

I reached up my hand and held my perfectly manicured finger over the doorbell. My nails have gotten really long and pretty lately. Another nail in the coffin of Steven. Oh god! My heart was going 280 or 360 or something. Then I did it! I actually pushed the doorbell!

I was a bit shocked when my dad answered the door. I was expecting, well, anyone else. All he said was “Yes?”

“Hi daddy,” I whispered. His face did this thing, then he turned to Thad. “And you are?”

“Thad. Thad Williams, Sir.” He reached out a hand, but my dad didn’t take it. Okay, we’re off to a good start here. Then Thad reached out the fruitcake. “Um, a fruitcake, for the party,” he offered.

“Then dad muttered under his breath, just loud enough for us to hear it, “Ah, two fruitcakes, then; or is it three?” He glanced at Thad who just smiled.

“Dad, what did I tell you!” Josh said as he nudged dad out of the way to help us in. “Hey Thad, Merry Christmas! Here, let me take those. C’mon in.”

“Merry Christmas Josh. Thank you.”

“Is that Steven?” Came mom’s voice from the kitchen. Jeez, she’s never used my birth name in my life! Well, except for when I’d done something bad.

“Mother!” Josh bellowed back.

I started to turn to walk away, but Josh grabbed my hand. “No, Stevie, please stay, I’ll go talk to them - again!”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

Josh turned. “You two, in the den!” He snarled.

“Hey you can’t talk to us like…” Dad began.

But Josh cut him off. “Just move it!”

And they actually did. They were wide-eyed, but they all went to the den. Wow.

I turned to Thad. “I am so so sorry about all this. You could be home with your Chinese take-out and a nice movie, but instead…” He stopped me with a kiss.

“Hey, please don’t worry about it. This is way more interesting. And I got your back, okay?”

I looked up at him and gave him a wan smile. “‘Kay.” He gave me another little peck.

About ten minutes later, mom, dad, and Josh reemerged from the den. “So, who wants eggnog?” Josh asked with a smile, arms wide. Wow, and I thought I was a good actress.

We played some party games, which were actually pretty fun, while we got slowly hammered with spiked eggnog. “You look really pretty Stevie,” my dad said out of nowhere. What? What is happening?

“Um, thanks daddy.”

“Yeah, you look just like your mother when she was young. Doesn’t she, Mags?” He said wistfully. My god, how hammered is he?

“Just how many of those eggnogs have you had?” I asked him with a giggle. I leaned toward Josh and whispered, “what in the world did you say to them?” He just shrugged with a little twinkly grin.

“She dresses better than I ever did, but yes, Stevie, you’re beautiful.” Mom said, reaching her hand toward mine. We met in the middle and we gave each other a little squeeze.

Thad chimed in, “You know, she’s not just a pretty face. She’s sweet and kind and smart and really really talented.” He leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips, right in front of mom and dad! To my surprise, they just gave bemused grins. I think Josh broke them.

After dinner, we all gathered around the Christmas tree. There weren’t a ton of presents, but then we’re not kids anymore. Mom asked me, “Stevie sweetie, would you give out the presents?”

“Um, I would actually love to, but I’m not exactly dressed for it.” I said, my face flushing.

“Let me,” Josh said. “I’m not wearing a minidress and sky-high heels.”

“I would kill to see that.” I giggled.

So, Josh distributed the gifts and we each had a little pile next to us, even Thad. When did they find the opportunity to get him gifts? They didn’t even know he was coming. Although they did sneak off for a little while this afternoon….Hmm.

We always went around the room, going from youngest to oldest, each opening our gifts one at a time. This way, everybody got to see what each one got and ooh and aah and make the joy last a good long time. We each had a glass of warm spiced wine so the atmosphere was quite relaxed. This was a far cry from the way the day had started! I smiled as I began to open my first gift. It was from Josh. It was my biggest present and I was so curious to discover what it could be.

“Omigod! A Barbie Dreamhouse! Omigod Josh! Thank you!” I was crying within seconds. My first Barbie! We usually wait until the end to give each other kisses and hugs but I couldn’t help myself - I bowled him over. This is now officially the best Christmas ever!

“Damn, how can I compete with that?” Thad said with a smile.

“It’s not a competition, silly.” I said, taking the opportunity to sneak a little kiss.

Mom’s and dad’s gifts were at least non-gendered this year. Well, kinda. One of the CDs was Taylor Swift’s new album. I doubt any guy would admit to liking Taylor. I also got BluRays of a couple of my favorite movies. They must have gotten Josh’s help on what to get. Last but not least was my gift from Thad. It was a small oblong box.

I smiled at him as I opened it, then I went into shock. Jewelry? He bought me jewelry? What does that mean? It was the most beautiful tennis bracelet I had ever seen. “Omigod Teddy! Please tell me these are not real diamonds!”

“Of course they are! We’re going to make a fortune on our flip and it’s all thanks to you.” He said before he was bowled over and kissed to within an inch of his life.

I sat staring at him, then reached up to wipe my lipstick off his face. He said softly, “I take it you like it then?” He got another mushy kiss in reply. Best boyfriend ever! “I have one other thing for you, but that’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.” I pouted and he laughed. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

I continued my little girl pout, “Okay, I guess. You’re so mean to me!” I giggled.

#

We were all too inebriated to drive home, so mom and dad put us up in the guest rooms. I got what used to be my old room. I’m really glad she redecorated it - it’s actually pretty now. I had to sleep in one of Josh’s old t-shirts that came to mid-thigh on me. But, I was able to change clothes in the morning, since I now keep a set of work clothes in the car, ever since my first day on the job, when I dressed like Christmas Barbie instead of Lumberjack Barbie. Mom made a big breakfast in the morning and we all piled in, in various states of post-eggnog dishevelment.

“You look so cute, even in flannel!” Mom smiled. Wow, so last night wasn’t a Dickensian dream? I thought maybe I was visited by the ghost of Christmas Never-Gonna-Happen-Not-In-This- Lifetime-Anyway last night.

“Thanks momma,” I blushed. I didn’t even have makeup on!

I was able to grab a moment with Josh a little while later. “What in the world did you say to them last night? Or did you replace them with pod people?”

“Well,” He began, “I gave them one of those sermons you’re always accusing me of delivering.”

“It’s not an accusation. I mean it, you would have been a great minister, and your words are always so meaningful and powerful.” I told him.

“Well, thanks sis. I think I just opened the windows to their souls enough to let a little light in. Or, maybe it was a Christmas miracle, I don’t know. Are you happy?”

“Deliriously! Thanks Joshie!” I gave him a little peck on the lips.

After loading up our gifts into Thad’s car (I got a Barbie Dreamhouse!), he drove us to my promised gift. He assured me I looked totally fine for this particular venture. About a mile out of town, where the suburban sprawl gives way to scrubland, we pulled up to a giant metal building.

“What is this place?” I wondered aloud. “My gift is inside there?”

“And outside,” Thad said cryptically.

“O-ka-ay.” I drew out.

We crunched through the snow before he pulled out a key and put it into the padlock securing the door.

“Oh, is this place yours?” I asked.

“Nope.” He said tersely.

“Then why do you have…?” I began.

“Just hold your horses girl, all will be revealed.” He assured me.

I pouted, “Okay.”

Inside the massive building were rows and rows of shelving. To the right, in the corner, was a beautiful plush chaise lounge, looking decidedly out of place in this industrial setting. There was a floor lamp next to the chair, and over to the side a very nice Chippendale-style desk with a desktop computer on it.

“What is this place?” I asked again.

He grabbed my hand and led me to the first row of shelving. “Have a look,” He said.

“Hey, this is all my leftover stuff from the house! What’s going on?” I was totally confused now.

“Yes, it’s your ‘stuff,’ He laughed before pointing me to a large wooden sign that said ‘Steff’s Stuff.’ I had told him I was thinking of changing my name to Stefani, or Stephanie or some iteration thereof. That way people could still call me Stevie without it being weird. I do like the name, though. A lot.

He resumed, “Now, I want you to know that all this is yours no matter your answer to my question. And don’t worry, I got it for a song, okay?”

I nodded. I still didn’t get it, but, “Your question?”

“Yes, my question. Stephanie Darling. You’ve become more than a random co-hopeful in a video demo.” I started to speak and he put his finger to my lips. “You’ve made me realize that without you, my work, my life even, was mediocre at best. Even if we don’t become the next reno star couple; if we’re never on TV; I guess what I’m trying to say is: Stephanie Darling, would you be my business partner?” He reached into his pocket and placed a rubber o-ring on my finger. I giggled and he continued, “would you be my o-ring? The gasket that holds it all together?”

“Oh my god, you are so weird!” I blurted. Then I squealed, “Yes! Yes, I will be your o-ring, if you’ll be my fuel pump!” That happens to be the only part of a car I know. Mine conked out last year.

He grabbed me and pulled me into a bear hug, then he kissed me, long and soft, tongues intertwining, and I am his o-ring! We finally separated, breathless. “Oh, Teddy, this is gonna be so much fun!”

He reached for my hand and we started meandering around the place. “So, like the sign says, this is for all your decorating and design stuff. You’ll build up a big inventory and you can buy stuff on spec and store it here along with all different styles of decor. Well, you’re the pro, however you want to do it.”

“I can buy stuff?” I whispered with wide eyes.

“Anything you want, I trust you. Our company is loaded thanks to you.”

“Our company?” I asked. This is all so overwhelming.

“Yes. Ours. If you agree. My dad has drawn up an LLC, a partnership, tentatively named ‘Monarch Renovations.’ You, my beautiful butterfly, floated in and changed everything. What do you think of the name? We can always change it.”

It was my turn to put my finger to his lips. “I love it, Teddy. It’s perfect.” I reached up for a kiss.

“Great! I’m glad you like it. There’s just one more thing…” He began and I held my breath. How much more could there be? This has been the most amazing day ever. Truly a Christmas to remember.

He walked me over to the computer. “This is yours, by the way. Do with it what you will; inventory, design, whatever; you can link it to your laptop. But this…” He squiggled the mouse and then clicked on something. “Dance with me,” he said as the music began echoing from hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Have I ever told you what amazing green eyes you have?”

“No,” I whispered as we began rocking back and forth. I placed my head on his shoulder. It was the song ‘Green Eyes’ by Coldplay. When the chorus played, the tears began to fall.

I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter now I met you
And honey, you should know
That I could never go on without you
Green eyes

When the song ended, he held me at arms’ length and looked into my eyes. “That’s exactly how I feel. I could’ve written that song, you know?” He wiped the tears from my eyes. “I have a hard time finding the words to express myself, so… It’s exactly like they said, ‘You're the one that I wanted to find.’ Don’t worry, I’m not going to propose to you, as much as I would like to.” My eyes went wide and I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed, then he continued, “We haven’t even been on a proper date yet. So, ah, how ‘bout a first date? Where would you like to go for lunch?” He smiled causing me to giggle.

#

I considered my condition as we exited my new office/design emporium. “Maybe we could just get takeout? I look like puppy poo.”

“You look beautiful, silly girl! But, your wish is my command.” He held the door and helped me into the car. “So, what? Pizza, Chinese? Congolese?”

“Congolese?” I giggled. “What in the world do they eat in the Congo?”

“I dunno, tse tse flies? Hippopotami? Are you hungry hungry for hippo?” He smiled broadly while I squinched up my nose.

“Does it taste like chicken?” I asked. “Oooh! How ‘bout Popeye’s? I loves me some spicy chicken.”

“Ah, yes, the traditional Christmas fare.”

“Well, chickens are like little turkeys, the kind designed for two people.” I grinned.

“Okay, then, my Cajun Queen, you got it!” He said cheerfully as the car kicked up gravel on our way out.

We held hands on the center console as we motored toward our sustenance. He broke the companionable silence. “You know, it’s true, I can never find the right words for what I’m feeling. I kinda rely on songs and poems. Do you mind?”

“Actually, I think it’s lovely.” I told him sincerely.

“Okay, good, cause I’ve got one more thing to say to you today. You know, the name of our company, Monarch?” He said and I nodded. “I really did name it after you. I see you as a butterfly. You had to grow up as a sort of caterpillar, but then shazam! You came out of your chrysalis this beautiful butterfly.”

“Omigod, I am totally a butterfly! That’s so cool! I was born with this gross boy body. Sorry, no offense. It’s just not the right body for a girl, you know what I mean?” I rambled.

“No worries, I know what you mean.” He assured me.

“It’s still not where I want it to be, but I’m on my way.”

“On your way?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been on hormones for like two weeks. So maybe I’m more like an inchworm or a moth; god I hope I’m not the annoying kind of moth that flaps around your face and gets stuck in your hair and stuff.” I giggled.

“Okay, you are not a moth and you are certainly not annoying. Okay, silly girl, this is what I wanted to say.” He tapped on the CarPlay screen. ‘Butterfly’ by Lenny Kravitz started playing.

“Oh my god, you are such a dork!” I giggled. But, he's my dork.

Butterfly

You are the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen
You shine just like sunlight rays
On a winter snow
I just had to tell you so

Your eyes sparkle as the stars
Like the moon they glow
Your smile could light the world on fire
Or did you know?

Your mind's full of everything
That I want to know
I just had to let you know
I just had to tell you so
You're my butterfly
Fly high
Fly fly fly

“Oh, Josh,” I cooed. “Okay, you are so not a dork. That was just beautiful. You really think those things? About me?”

“Every word.” He said and leaned over for a warm tingly kiss. Wow.

#

Okay, so lunch was kinda anticlimactic after that, but delicious! And, our first official date! I wonder if we’ll tell our grandkids about it? Anyway, Thad took me home to get changed, then he took me back to my parents’ house ‘cause we all decided to hang out for Christmas Day since things ended up so well last night. Thad and I were just cuddled together by the fire when I asked him about New Years. “Should we consider the New Years Eve party to be our second date?” I mused.

“Yes, I think we should; that is, unless we decide to go out again sooner.” He offered.

“Oh, well, I’ll have to ask my boss if I can have the time off.” I said, giving Thad a little peck on the lips.

“First of all, I’m not your boss, we’re partners.” He said sincerely.

“Oh, please? I’ve always wanted to have an illicit affair with my boss. Mr. big boss man, you know, bossing me around and stuff?” I cooed.

“Ooh, you’re a bad girl! Okay. Since you’ve been such a naughty girl, I’m gonna need to see you in my office first thing in the morning for your year-end review.”

“Did you say rear-end preview?” I deadpanned.

He just looked at me and started cracking up. Soon, we were both rolling on the floor giggling. I always wondered what ROFL meant, now I know.

We lay face to face, catching our breath and looking into each other’s eyes. I just had to ask, “So, why aren’t you with your family on Christmas? Are you Jewish or something?”

“Nah, it’s just my parents have never done the Christmas thing. They’re both professionals and always busy, so…”

“That’s so sad.” I pouted.

“Maybe, but I always got great presents. High income, high guilt, high-priced toys. I guess it’s a trade-off.” He said, brushing my hair out of my face.

“You know, my father’s a lawyer too. Scary, right? So how’d we fall so far from the tree?” I asked.

“Well, some nuts just roll that way.” He said, matter-of-factly.

I giggled and snorted (omigod I actually snorted!), causing him to smile. I smiled back with relief. I guess he’s okay with the occasional gigglesnort. He may be a keeper.

#

A few days later, a couple from California swooped in and made Thad an offer he couldn’t refuse. Three million cash on the barrel head! Can you believe it? Half of that was profit, triple what he was hoping for! They wouldn’t be moving in ‘til the middle of January, so Thad said we could go ahead with the New Years party.

Mom and dad said they would come, so things were still looking up on that front. I started to think about all that had to be done getting a party together for fifty people. “Let’s just hire a caterers; let them figure it all out.” Thad offered. “We can afford a little splurge.”

“I suppose we can, but isn’t it a little late to hire a caterer? I would think they’d be all booked up long ago.” I said, throwing water on the whole idea.

Thad groaned, “You’re right. Damn. Well, I guess we need to get busy then!”

Good thing Thad has a big car; we went to Crate and Barrel for all the dishes and silverware and stuff. No paper plates and plastic cups for us! It turns out there were after Christmas sales all over the place, so we went hog wild! The liquor store had a bit of a sale for New Years, but the lack of discounts didn’t hold Thad back. Thank god he was well versed in all the different liquors; as it turns out he was a bartender in college. I learn something new about him every day. I’ll have to ask why he had to work at all considering he had a silver spoon lodged firmly between his pearly whites.

Last but not least were the grocery stores. I got as much as I could at Trader Joe’s, but I was still gonna have to do a bit of cooking and baking, which I didn’t really mind. We were going to do half posh and half working-man snacks to cater to the eclectic tastes of our varied band of acquaintances. I would try the fancy schmancy stuff, but I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope. Our local grocery store had several different kinds of chicken wings and I was very much looking forward to sampling those. The firecracker ones looked especially appealing!

Even just shopping with Thad was enjoyable. I have the feeling that digging ourselves out of a collapsed mineshaft would take on a pleasant drudgery as long as we were shoveling together. I’ve never had that feeling before and it’s quite nice. Anyway, we got back to the house and unloaded all the goodies. The fridge was already jam-packed and I hadn’t even started cooking yet!

The kitchen we designed was going to be perfect for this type of party. Thad put up all the different bottles of liquor on the massive island and I arranged all the pretty glasses. The island has a built-in sink, so that’s gonna come in handy. When we were done, he opened a bottle of peach schnapps and toasted to our partnership. Wow, that stuff is really good!

“Wanna stay here for the night?” Thad asked softly with a hopeful slant to his eyes.

“But we only furnished one bedroom, how would that work?” I asked stupidly.

“Well, it is a king-sized bed.”

“Oh, Thad, are you sure? I mean, that’s a pretty big step and you know, my body is, well... I mean, this isn’t all me, you know.” I spluttered, addressing my padded figure.

“Okay, I get it, but I’m in love with the woman, not her body. Although I am looking forward to exploring that some day, hopefully. I mean, I think it would be kinda nice to just lay there beside you and wake to your beautiful face in the morning.” Omigod, he said he loves me and he didn’t even use a song or a poem or anything. Wow.

“Oh Teddy, um, okay, if you’re sure. I’m a work in progress and I usually don’t like to show off my work until I’m finished; but that won’t be for a while, so…” He looked at me expectantly. “What I mean to say is, yes Teddy, I would love to lay next to you and wake up next to you.” Gaah! This is not the romantic conversation I envisioned in my daydreams, But, whatever. I get to sleep with Thad! Kinda.

Teddy refilled my drink and led me over in front of the fireplace. He got the fire going, then clicked on his boombox bluetooth speaker thingy. That’s all we had since we only had the fake staging TV and stereo at this point. They don’t really get good sound! He selected the John Barry station from his phone. So romantic!

“Teddy?” I began softly. “I love you too, by the way.” I know it’s way too soon for the ‘L’ word, but he said it and I feel it, so… As he reached for a kiss, he accidentally brushed my padded bosom, but something tingled underneath. It thrummed and its pulses reached my um, nether regions. That was new! “Um, Teddy, could we try something?”

“Sure, like what?” He asked amiably.

I grabbed his hand and slid it under my bra. My nipple went erect and he tweaked it, causing me to moan and writhe in ecstasy. Holy mother of God! “Wow; my um, my hormones must be working.” I breathed.

“Cool. That was quick, though, wasn’t it? I mean, I don’t know anything about that sort of thing, but…” He blushed.

“You’re right. I wonder why? Not that I’m complaining!” I grinned. Gosh, I need to talk to Dr. Frankel about that. But that’s for another day, I’m otherwise engaged right now; mmm…

#

My eyes opened to be greeted by the late December sun. I just lay there looking at Thad sleeping. He’s even handsome when he sleeps! I grinned to myself. I thought of him straddling me and kissing my little budding breasts and I started getting all tingly again. He hadn’t seemed put off by my undeveloped body, just curious. He actually touched my appendage and called it ‘cute.’

“You know, there are lots of things we can do even without your having surgery yet, but you know, just say the word and I’ll whisk you off to Thailand.” He had said. I had mentioned Thailand as a possibility as they didn’t have as many strings attached as we do in the States. Besides, they have some of the best surgeons in the world. Thai food’s pretty good as well, I’ve been told!

When I was pretending to be a gay male, I had assumed that one day I would be engaging in that one sort of sex, you know, erm, anal. It was my only option, after all. I know girls sometimes do it that way too, but I just really wanted my first time to be vaginal, you know? Now that I’ve stopped my pretending, my desire to be a proper, if somewhat limited, girl, has been niggling at me persistently.

I sighed, slid off the bed and padded off to the bathroom. I looked at my naked body in the mirror. It’s never going to be fast enough for me, but Thad’s right, my budding breasts happened really quickly. I caressed them gently. If guys only knew how great this feels!

I suppose my body is a little curvier than it should be, but I’m still really the sport model instead of the luxury sedan. I giggled to myself; Thad’s got me thinking in car terms lately. I’m ruined! I put on the dress shirt Thad let me borrow for a nightgown. It comes to mid-thigh on me and looks kinda cute. I made my way to the kitchen to see if there was anything in the fridge that resembled breakfast food. We did have a couple things left over from the guys doing the reno. Bread and peanut butter and jelly - ooh! Strawberry rhubarb - love it! I set the coffee to brewing. I have always used a Keurig, but I was able to figure out the Mr. Coffee without any trouble.

We were being very domestic, sitting at the table, reading our phones and chatting. “We got the house.” He said simply.

“Hmm?” I said with a mouth full of PBJ.

“Oh, sorry,” He began, “I put in an offer on this great house downtown. Franklin Street. 500 block. It’s the last one that hasn’t been renovated already. I didn’t expect to get it since I kinda lowballed them.” He looked sheepish. “I gave the realtor all the reasons it thought it was a complete disaster and they must have agreed or something. The owner had just died. Maybe the kids just wanted rid of it? Whatever, I got it, we got it, for only two mil.” Only two million dollars? Yikes. I grew up in a saltbox on the west side of town, this was rarefied air I was now breathing with Thad.

“That’s great Teddy! Well done!” I enthused.

“Thanks babe.” Ooh, a new term of endearment; they’re coming fast and furious now. I sorta liked it. “Wanna go look at it with me?” He asked, not looking up from his phone.

“I’d love to, but I really need to go home and get a shower and changed and all that. ‘Kay?” I asked.

“Well, can you just throw on what you wore yesterday? It’s just a couple miles away; taking you home would be way out of the way.” He was right, but it still miffed me that I wouldn’t be able to get fixed up again. I was turning into a regular hobo. Boho is cool, Hobo is so not!

“Um, okay I guess. If I’m gonna be hanging out with you, Mr. Spontaneous, I’m gonna have to keep some things in your car. I’m getting kinda grungy.” I complained.

“Well, you still look beautiful to me.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it. He’s a terrible liar but I love him.

The curb appeal of the house was pretty good, but inside? Yikes! It looked like the 1970’s threw up in there. But I have a knack for seeing past the passé to the possibilities beneath. This place could be amazing. I already had ideas swarming and couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into it. It was so exciting to have another project lined up already. But first is the New Years party. I’ve still got a lot to do.

#

Okay, I kinda chickened out NYE morning. I’ve never cooked gourmet food, so I decided to go get a few backup items at Whole Foods. I found several great-looking items that would seem to fit the bill, then I made my way to the liquor store to pick up the beer that Thad forgot to get the other day. Of all things! I know of several young guys that would have been completely bumfuzzled had they wound up beerless!

I was totally glad I had insisted on installing two ovens and two microwaves. All four appliances were getting a good workout today. I was taking on recipes by Martha Stewart, Ina Garten, Adam Richman, and even Stephen Colbert, of all people! My mom offered to come over early and help me (I know! Who woulda thought it a week ago?) and I accepted gratefully.

We were having so much fun cooking together, even though she scolded me for cooking in heels! By five o’clock we were essentially done, we just had to wait for a few things to finish baking. The first guests were due to arrive around six. It’s funny, I had banned Thad from the kitchen and he had gratefully become ensconced in front of the real working TV he had imported from home. He was watching football games and I found the idea and the atmosphere actually kinda homey and domestic. Woman cooking in the kitchen, man glued to the TV. Stereotypical, but comforting in a way. I even enjoyed bringing him the occasional beer!

The doorbell rang at five minutes to six and who to my surprise did I find at the door, but Josh and Janet, together! How did this happen? When did this happen? They gave each other a kiss and just said ‘Surprise!’ Surprise, indeed. My two favorite people in the world, well, other than Thad these days, joining forces!

I squealed, “Oh my god, you guys, when did this happen?” We had a quick group hug, then they came with me into the kitchen. They grabbed a wine and a beer and told me the whole story of their own meet-cute. Well, it wasn’t so much a chance meeting as they grew on each other, kinda like a fungus! I giggled when I said that to them and they rolled their eyes. They’ve known each other more than ten years, but never knew they each had a crush on the other. So sweet.

When Stewie and the boys arrived, they descended on the buffet like a swarm of locusts. I grabbed Stewart by the hand and turned him toward me. “Hey Stewie,” I cooed, giving him a peck on the cheek. I feared he may swallow his tongue! I couldn’t help but giggle. “I hope you brought our video. We have a captive audience and we want to take advantage of it.”

“Yep! And it’s an Emmy winner for sure!” He prattled excitedly.

“That’s great Stewie, I hope you’re right. It would be so cool to be on TV. You could say you ‘knew us when…’

“You were so amazing, Stevie. I had so much good stuff to work with I really had a hard time editing it down to 42 minutes. But I think I did good.” He smiled. “This house turned out absolutely phenomenal! If they don’t hire you, they’re nuts.”

“Cool. Can I get you a beer?” I offered. “Champagne is for later.”

“Sure. Thanks Stevie.”

“No probs Stewie. Have a good time, ‘kay?”

At eight o’clock, everyone gathered around and we casted the video to the big TV. I sat on Teddy’s lap and we did some synchronized grinning with the occasional peck on the lips. Stewart wasn’t kidding! Look out Chip and Joanna, Steph and Teddy are comin’ for you! I giggled to myself. I was absolutely mesmerized. Stewart did an amazing job. He’s gonna go far. He’ll get an ‘A’ for this project for sure.

We got a standing ovation and for the next hour we chatted with everyone and their mother, literally, about the project. Oh, and a couple fathers. Thad’s father cornered me and said, “I understand now what’s got Thaddeus so worked up lately. He seems a different man. I understand you’re the reason for that. You’re quite a girl, Stephanie; talented and beautiful, too. I already told him he better not screw this up if he knows what’s good for him.” Mr. Williams smiled.

“Thanks Mr. Williams. I have to admit, I’m quite smitten with your son. Oh, and thanks for setting up our company, my dad says it all looks great. He’s a lawyer too, you know.” I admitted.

“Is he now…?” And we were off talking about legal mumbo jumbo. I soon had tactfully maneuvered him over to my father and let nature take its course.

#

It was nearly midnight and the ball was slowly dropping in Times Square. Teddy and I held hands, waiting for the moment and the whole room began counting down the last ten seconds. When the clock struck midnight it was bedlam. All the noisemakers and stuff created a beautiful cacophony that soon morphed into ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ I made sure that everybody also sang ‘Imagine’ with me, because I was in no condition for a solo rendition.

We were supposed to kiss! We haven’t had a chance to kiss yet! Finally, Teddy turned me to face him and he leaned down. I stood on my tiptoes and we welcomed in the new year with a PG-13 kiss. We were surrounded by fifty of our closest friends, so it didn’t exactly lend itself to exploring either tonsils or uvulae.

The champagne was flowing and the party continued on. Teddy sat me down in front of the fire, the very place where we sat on buckets a mere month ago, discussing second chances and first dates. “Steph,” He said softly, holding my hands in his. He’d taken to calling me Steph lately and I quite liked it. “I have a modest proposal for you.” I got only slightly nervous, because his proposals had all turned out pretty good so far. “I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but it’s been a helluva month!” He grinned.

“It sure has,” I agreed, keeping my eyes locked on his.

“My proposal is this… Um, my question is this. Will you consider cohabiting with me?” His voice was nearly a whisper. Cohabiting? Oh! Living together!

Wow, that’s a big step. Like he said, it’s only been a month. But it really has been a helluva month. A helluva year, really. I started the year out a sorta boy, then I graduated from college, then I moved back to Denver. I set up housekeeping with Josh and started my own business, such as it was. Then I got picked to audition for a TV show, met a jerk who turned out to be a great guy, and actually fell in love with him over the course of renovating my dream project. Then I finally started on hormones and actually started budding! I also I became a partner in a multimillion dollar company and seem to have mended the relationship with my parents. Phew!

Now, the man I love wants me to move in with him? I mean, it’s the logical next step, isn’t it? But it’s been so quick. Do I need to slow things down? Why? I seem to be handling it all okay. But it’s too soon. Way too fast. And where would we live? I couldn’t possibly…

“Steph?” I heard a lovely baritone voice from somewhere in the distance. “What do you think? I was thinking the new house on Franklin would be perfect for us. I know it’s kinda sudden, but it’s not, really. Not for me, anyway…”

I put a finger to his lips, then I kissed those lips. “Teddy. I would love to cohabit with you.” I giggled and he rewarded me with his beautiful dimply smile, ooh, and another kiss.

Gosh. What will the next year hold?

The End... of the Beginning

 

Friending Jane Austin Chapters 1-3 By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 5,000

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Image Credit: From Adobe Stock Photos - Three women in vintage attire with braided hair, posing for a selfie. By Irina Kozel
 

I was ready to pull my hair out, which would have been a shame, because I had been growing it out for a couple years and it was halfway down my back and finally looking very pretty. I haven’t ever had a real friend for my entire fourteen years. I was sort of forced to play with the boys within two blocks along our street, never straying beyond. I didn’t even know what the street behind ours looked like. God, I hated playing with boys and I was yearning for female friendship.

I started telling my parents that I was a girl when I was around two or three years old. They never took me seriously. They were so adamant that I was a boy. Ugh! So I stopped bugging them about it around five, hiding that part of me away from the world and bringing her out only on those rare occasions when I was alone. Except for one last time when I was ten. I don’t remember how it came about, but my sister dolled me up to my great delight, from the top of my head to the pretty pink polish on my toes. I remember being in heaven.

We came down the stairs to the living room like we were making a grand entrance to a gala ball. Heaven turned to hell in about two seconds flat as my parents blew their stacks and their gaskets and all those other things parents have a habit of blowing when they are properly ticked off. I ran away crying and from then on I made sure they only saw the sad, pathetic, fake little ‘boy’ they apparently preferred.

So, I have been so sad and alone, even more bereft and pathetic for the past four years, and as I said, I couldn’t take it anymore. Oh, no, I certainly wasn’t going to insist to my parents that I was a girl anymore (I think they’ve forgotten by now, or repressed the horror, or whatnot), nor tell my ‘friends’, or anyone else I knew, for that matter. So I devised what I thought was a clever plan. Either it would turn out and I would be seen as adorable and quirky and worth getting to know, or the entire world would come to know me as an utter lunatic within approximately 45 minutes to an hour, shunned for eternity, shamed into even further obscurity. But, it was worth a try to get out of my semi-living, lonely hell.

I felt kind of silly hauling a wagon three streets away, to a place that seemed like the other side of the moon. I had it loaded down with the accoutrements of my plan. I had brushed and fluffed my long blonde hair and put on my nicest androgynous clothing (“nice” being kind - they were awful, just not as awful as the rest of my boys’ junky clothes). I had accidentally on purpose washed some of my whites with a new red shirt that ran perfectly and turned everything into a lovely baby pink, even my Converse All Stars. Mom thought she would teach me a lesson by “forcing” me to wear the pink clothes - I only put up a token fuss while smiling inside.

Now, I had noticed, and based on my own experience, that girls spend way less time playing out of doors than boys do. Most of their pursuits seemed to be more sedate and indoorsy as mine are. So, I knew I would be camped out for a while. God, this sounds so creepy now, but it’s the only way I could catch a girl or two while they were on the run between houses. Wow, that sounds even creepier. Ugh. Anyway…

I set up all my gear. A folding chair; a little folding table that I covered with a lace doily; a pretty teapot filled with tea and covered with an English tea cozy; two bone china mugs with a floral chintz pattern - two, in case I had someone join me - perhaps I was delusional. I pulled out my iPhone for music, but I couldn’t be in my own world with earbuds on, so I just played it softly in the background - not really what teen girls listen to, John Barry instrumentals, but I can’t really read to Miley Cyrus and Meghan Trainor. Ooh! And Jax, I looove Jax!

And that’s what I intended to do - read, on the sidewalk, sipping tea, to pretty music, wearing pink with tight jeans, flowing blonde locks, and just a touch of mascara and lip gloss that my parents never seem to notice. I would stay there all day if I had to. My desperation wasn’t an attractive quality, but, what’s a girl to do?

Turns out I didn’t have to wait all that long, as a few minutes after I saw the curtains twitch in the house to the immediate left of me, along with some muffled giggling, the front door opened and two girls about my age tumbled out, whispering in each other’s ears and giggling. The brunette made a beeline to me with her eyes wide and a little sneer on her lips. “What the actual fuck?” She asked me eloquently as her auburn-haired friend giggled at her directness. “What the hell is all this?” She spread her arms wide and dramatically.

I looked up slowly and softly replied “good morning!” With a wide smile.

She continued, “Seriously, what…?” Her friend nudged her in mid-sentence and pointed down the street. There was a gaggle of teen boys throwing a football around about a half block away. Yes, I had noticed them.

Auburn girl says “she’s obviously crushing on one of those boys! But, this set-up; like, what Verity said, what the actual fucking fuck?” She giggled and blushed, obviously not as accustomed to swearing as…Verity?

I nonchalantly replied, looking up at brunette, “your name is Verity? Seriously? Did your parents hate you or what?”

“Oh, shut the hell up! What’s your oh-so-special name then? And seriously, what’s up with all this crap?” She waved her arm again.

Auburn jumped in. “Chill, Ver, it’s cute. Look at the pretty doily and those precious teacups.”

“Look at the pretty doily.” Verity mocked. “What’s your name, weirdo?”

“Kayla.” I stated, giving her the girl name I had to choose myself when my mom refused to change it when I was three.

“Oh, Kayla,” she sneered again. Then she stood up straight-faced, the mocking and sneering suddenly tucked away somewhere, perhaps under her sharp tongue. “Umm, that’s actually a pretty name. I’ve always loved it. You’re so lucky - God I hate my name!” Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and have to wear the damned thing every day, I thought to myself. She continued, “So, seriously, what’s with the set-up? You do realize it’s pretty weird, right?”

I giggled. “Is it? I suppose, but your friend’s right, not crushing, per sé, but I like to watch. A couple of those boys are pretty cute.” That part was true enough, but I was making things up on the fly now; and they think I’m a girl? I wasn’t really expecting that, but I was melting inside. I’d have to build my plane in mid-flight.

“Per sé? Who talks like that?” Verity chided without the mocking and sneering. She seemed to be engaging in some friendly banter now.

“A girl who reads Jane Austen talks like that.” Auburn pointed out. “That’s Emma; she’s reading Emma! Oh my god, I love Emma! My name is Candace, by the way, not that Verity thought to mention it.”

Verity rolled her eyes. “Sor-ry!” She then continued. “So, you’re one of those artsy tomboy types.” She stated as if it were public record. “You’re not a lez or anything are you?

“Verity!” Candace gasped.

“Or anything?” I teased. “No, sorry - not gay.” I smiled, waving my hand toward the boys.

“Okay. So you’re just weird, but so is Candace.” Verity glanced at her friend with a smile.

“And you’re not.” I stated flatly, also as a matter of public record.

“Oh my god, she totally is!” Candace blurted. “Did you know she’s obsessed with Harry Styles?”

I rolled my eyes. “Harry Styles? Seriously?” Verity huffed and pouted while Candace giggled.

“Yes, Harry Styles. Shut up! Can we move on?” Verity actually, nay, verily, plopped onto the grass next to me. I giggled to myself.

In a relative non-sequitur, Candace broached, “so, like how many Austen’s have you read then?”

“All of them.” I smiled. “Emma’s my favorite. I’ve read it, like, three times and watched every version of the movie. I can’t decide between Gwynneth Paltrow and Kate Beckinsale.”

“Oh my god, right?” Candace enthused. “Hey,” She turned to Verity, “why don’t we all go to my house and watch, what? Something Jane Austen; doesn’t hafta be Emma. Whaddya think?”

“Seriously?” Verity rolled her eyes. Seriously? I echoed in my mind - that would be sooo amazing! I glanced at Verity, my big, hopeful, mascara tinged, beseeching eyes on full display. “Ugh. Fine! But I getta pick the snack, deal?” She looked between us.

“Deal.” Candace and I responded in stereo, with stereo smiles.

“Here, let’s help Kayla pack up her stuff.” Candace looked over to Verity, who, perhaps under patent, rolled her eyes again.

Wow, this was going way better and way quicker than I expected; well, not expected, really; more like a cherished, distant hope. This was already the best day of my life. “So, wow, your house is really nice,” I gushed as we walked through the front door of Candace’s house. It was only a few blocks away from mine, but it was in a totally different league. I walked over to the grand piano in the living room and caressed it lovingly. “So beautiful. Do you play?”

“A little. I’m not very good, though.” She deprecated.

“May I?” I asked hopefully; drooling over the gorgeous Steinway.

Verity rolled her eyes yet again. “My god, you’re so damned polite and cute and sweet, and you play the piano too? I bet you ride ponies and paint and write stories for the New Yorker, too…”

I laughed and got a little shiver; she said I’m cute! “Nope. Just piano. No, I lie, I actually love needlepoint; my Grams taught me.” I also didn’t mention that, indeed, I did have a couple poems published in the New Yorker! Verity held back, perhaps her eyes needed a rest from all that rolling. She just shook her head with a grin.

Candace chimed in. “Well, go on then; play something, huh?”

“Thanks. I always wanted to play on a grand. This is sooo cool.” I gushed some more as I sat on the bench and flexed my fingers with the sparkly pink nail polish. So pretty! “What would you like to hear?”

“You do requests, too? You know, you’re really making me look bad, girl.” Verity teased with a smile, glancing at Candace please don’t call me Candy or I’ll have to kill you Collins.

Candace just smiled. “Like, what do you play?”

“Anything.” I replied matter-of-factly. “Well, no, not rap, obvs!”

They laughed and then conferred, obviously conspiring to stump me. Verity smiled slyly, “we’d like to hear ‘Fuck You,’ by Lily Allen.”

I giggled then played an intro with a flourish. I love this song. I sang it sweetly with a British accent. They were shocked, but quickly joined in when I got to the chorus: “Fuck you! Fuck you very very mu-u-u-uch!” We all laughed and Verity slapped and nudged me on the shoulder. God, this was so much fun! We continued on: “Cuz we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew, so please don’t stay in tou-uh-uch!” Verity was now literally rolling on the floor.

We finished up and Candace said, “Wow, that was totally amazing! I like how you did that little Taylor Swift thing on those runs. How are you so good?”

“Carnegie Hall.” I replied with a straight face.

“What?/Huh?” The girls asked over each other, giving each other a confused glance.

I began to explain. “You know, the old joke? ‘How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”

“Practice, practice, practice!” We finished together, giggling. I thought how I had had nothing better to do for the past ten years or so. I cook a meal a couple times a week, I clean the house (no one asks me to, I just like how it looks and smells after; weird, huh?), I do the needlepoint, I read a book a day, and what’s left? Piano. School doesn’t count.

“Cool,” Candace said, “Should we go to the theater now?”

Verity’s eye roll was back. “She means the basement. It’s all kitted out for a home theater. It really is way awesome.”

I enthused, “Okay, let’s!” But first, I quickly ran off the first verse of ‘A Fifth of Beethoven’ by Walter Murphy. I pounded the last chord and jumped up. We all laughed on our way to the basement, erm, home theater. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, the girls stopped me and my heart went into my throat. I knew this was going too well. To my surprise and relief, they both hugged me. Candace looked so earnest when she told me, “you are so, so cool. Where the heck did you come from?”

Chapter Two - Matinee

Fortunately, that last bit was apparently rhetorical, at least for now, as she just spun around and headed toward the large fridge in the corner. “Soda?”

“Diet Pepsi?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh my god, she’s a Pepsi girl, too!” Verity practically jumped in the air and clapped her hands, just once. She was too cool for any more than that.

Candace pulled out three Diet Pepsi’s and deftly slid one down the bar to me. I promptly knocked it over as I reached for it. I looked up sheepishly. She smiled. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” She giggled. “You need some practice, though.” She then reached under the bar. “Okay, we have healthy snacks, veggies and stuff, ORRR…we have total crap!” She giggled as she pulled out a giant variety pack of single serve snacks. My gosh, they know how to entertain, I thought.

I grabbed a Munchies mix and waited for the girls to make their choices - Doritos and Crunchy Cheetos. Then we began to make our way to the eighty inch television. Eighty inches! I kid you not! I turned to Candace. “You guys must be, like, really rich. What’re you doing in this neighborhood?”

“Hey!” Verity blurted in mock outrage. I giggled.

Candace explained. “Yeah, my parents have a lot of money. They’re like the top partners in their own law firm downtown. I don’t see much of it, though. They don’t want me to become some spoiled rich bitch I guess, so I have to earn my own money with, like, babysitting and stuff.” She finally took a breath.

I prodded further. “Okay, but, why here? Surely you could get one of those amazing mansions near downtown? Glad you’re here, but, you know?”

She smiled. “Yeah. My parents moved out of a ritzy condo when I was born. They found out that this area has great schools and a lotta kids and…well, it’s middle class and all.”

“That’s us!” I smiled at Verity and she nodded.

Candace gave us a hug, her eyes becoming moist. “Yep. Best people in the world. Sooo…Movie time!” Candace segued rather abruptly. “Wait!” She put her arms out to stop us in our tracks. “I just had a thought.” Verity groaned and rolled her eyes. Candace continued, “I’ve actually got period costumes from a party we held last year. What do you girls think?”

Omigosh, I absolutely melted when she called us ‘girls.’ I could totally get used to that. And, not surprisingly, I thought the idea was brilliant and Verity groaned again. I was the first to burble with excitement and began bouncing on the balls of my feet. “Oh my god, that would be so much fun. Please Verity?” This was all such a dream come true, I seemed to be flying on autopilot, more outgoing than I ever have been as a fake pathetic boy. I forgot we would have to change clothes and put myself in a somewhat precarious position. I was so excited, though, I was totally willing to figure it all out as we went along.

“Fine!” Rolling eyes go without saying, of course.

“Onward and upward!” Candace announced melodramatically and led us up to her room on the second floor.

OMG! This day just keeps getting better. Her room was my dream bedroom! I sighed and gushed and even got a little teary. A four-poster bed, of course, with some sort of gauzy material draped around the top. All the furniture was an antique white. And matched! Of all the crazy, wonderful things. Dresser with mirror, chest of drawers, vanity, a tufted bench, and even a tilty floor mirror thingy which was just so ornate and gorgeous, I’d never seen or dreamt of anything like it.

All the decor was in different shades of pink - variations on a theme. A gorgeous, totally feminine theme. I was in heaven and wistful all at the same time. God, I hoped these two would somehow become my girlies, and one of them, probably Candace I sensed, my bestie, my BFF. Please? Pretty please? God has never turned me into a girl overnight, but maybe She could handle this one? Maybe?

Candace trekked to the back of her massive walk-in closet. It looked like something from the Kardashian’s, I swear. My jealousy was rearing its ugly head as my eyes roamed all over the amazing racks and shelves filled with gorgeous clothes and shoes and accessories. Well, they were gorgeous to me; I suppose they were really typical teen outfits, but they had me mesmerized. “This closet is to die for,” I said, almost in an awed whisper.

Candace just smiled and said, “yeah. I know I’m lucky, and I love it. I feel like Kim Kardashian, or something.” Speak of the devil.

“I think her dad was a lawyer, too,” I chipped in. She just smiled and nodded and grabbed an arm-load of old-timey dresses that certainly didn’t look like they came from the corner costume shop. My god, they were absolutely gorgeous. I could totally see Emma Woodhouse or Elizabeth Bennett wearing these dresses. Even I could get my own Mr. Darcy in one of those, I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t care what was in my pants. Well, maybe he would, now that I think about it. I frowned to myself. But then I smiled broadly as Candace handed me the most amazing lavender outfit with corset and all.

“You’ll have to be Emma, I think.” She looked at me earnestly with a little smile and a wink.

“Thank you,” I whispered in rapt fascination, holding the dress as if it were the crown jewels.

“And I will be Elizabeth Bennett; and you, my dear Veritable one, will be Maryanne Dashwood.” Candace grinned while handing Verity her dress.

“Whatever.” Verity responded tersely, but gave a little smile, immediately beginning to tear off her shorts and camisole. I turned my head and blushed.

Candace, seeing my apparent discomfort, offered, “the bathroom is right there, if you’d prefer some privacy Kayla. Verity isn’t as modest as some of us.”

Verity just blushed and smiled. I smiled gratefully at Candace and just nodded, slinking off to the bathroom. Bathroom? Oh my god, it was like a Roman bathhouse or something, fit for Cleopatra on her state visits to Caesar, or maybe a tryst with Antony. I sat on a bench before the long mirror and began undressing. I shaved my legs this morning, even though I only have the merest of peach fuzz. They are so smooth and silky, with a bit of shine from the rose hip oil I use all over my body.

I paused and peeked out the door. “Not to be finicky or anything, but shouldn’t we have hose or stockings with these outfits?”

“Omigosh! I totally didn’t even think of that! Yes! Let’s do the whole thing up, yeah? Stockings, heels, makeup, fancy hair? Whaddya say?” Candace was practically bursting.

“Are we ever gonna get to the damn movie? You girly girls are gonna give me a sweet-tooth ache. I may just have to kill myself.” Verity fell back onto the bed.

Candace giggled. “You know you love it as much as we do. Stop pretending to be a hard-ass dyke or something. You’re as girly as we are, you brat!” Candace just looked over to me, still peeking through the door, and shrugged. “She thinks it’s her social duty to complain about everything. Here, let me get the garter belts and stockings. Then we’ll do makeup and shoes. Oh, and hair!”

Verity mocked like she was choking on a chicken bone or something. She glanced at me, then fell back again. “I’m not a dyke, I’m just lazy. And easily annoyed.” She lifted on her elbows and glared at Candace.

“Just pipe down and put these on.” Candace insisted as she tossed a garter belt and stockings at Verity. She held them by her fingertips and grimaced as if they were the freshly shed skin of a boa constrictor.

This was the first time I had worn a dress and makeup in public since that ill-fated day four years ago, and it was glorious. Candace had given me a bra and inserts to give me a bust, giving it little to no thought as we were all still rather flat. Verity seemed to have a bit more than Candace and me and she was rather proud of the fact.

My feet were slightly smaller than Candace’s, but the shoes stayed on my feet okay and the three-inch heels made me look, well, really pretty. We did each other’s makeup, just for fun, and I was actually adjudged the group expert. Go figure. So, we fawned over each other’s outfits and how pretty we all were and before you know it we were racing down the stairs in our heels, giggling all the way - well, Verity shrieked as she almost twisted an ankle, but she caught the railing and our joy remained intact.

I made the bottom first, and stood in the living room like a statue, wide-eyed, as a gorgeous thirty-something woman in a pencil-skirted business suit held her hands up, “whoa, whoa, whoa, where’s the fire, girls? Or, wow, should I say ‘what’s the occasion? Look at you! And who’s this gorgeous little thing? I don’t know you do I?”

I glanced at Candace with a little trepidation coloring my beautifully made-up eyes. She introduced me, “Mom, Mommy, this is Kayla, we just met her today, isn’t she pretty? She’s really nice and really fun, too.” Candace glanced at me with a wide smile and I gave her the best smile I could in return, given that I was about to start bawling at her wonderful words.

Verity joined in. “Hi Mrs. Collins! We’re dressed for a Jane Austen day; Kayla is Emma, Candace is Elizabeth Bennett, and who am I again?’

“Maryanne Dashwood!” Candace smacked Verity on the shoulder. “God, you don’t even know you’re own name!”

We all giggled, including Mrs. Collins, whose pleasure was evident. “Well, you three look superb, and it’s very nice to meet you Kayla.”

“You too, Mrs. Collins. Your daughter is amazing! I feel like we’ve been friends forever, but it’s only been, like, a few hours. And your house, oh my god! And…Sorry.” I stopped rattling and blushed.

“It’s okay dear. So, what’s next on your agenda, Candace? Your father and I are going to go out to dinner since we finished up that awful meeting early. Sonoita is off for the weekend, so, you’re on you’re own.” Mrs. C. clarified.

‘Okay, cool! Can we get takeout for three? What, Chinese? Or Pizza?” Candace glanced at me and Verity.

I waited for Verity to answer first. She just said “umm,” and looked to me. “I adore Chinese,” I offered. What about you, Vee?”

So, we all agreed on Chinese and I was so excited as we went down to the giant TV and pulled up the internet to check out the menu for China Dragon. Oh my god, they are sooo good. Their Hot and Sour soup, oh, and the pork lo mein! Oh, and the Mu Shu Pork, and…I was doing it again. It’s like I’ve gone all manic, I’ve never been so happy!

Oops! “Um, guys? I need to call my mom, to see if I can even stay. I didn’t think.” My smile was gone. Until Candace tossed me her phone and it hit me in the boob. I couldn’t help but giggle.

Chapter Three - Making the Call

“Um, hi mom,” I began a bit nervously. Hi sweetie, where’ve you been? “I made two new friends today, can you believe it?” You? Friends? Really? “Not funny mom. Listen, I can’t talk cuz they’re waiting on me. Can I stay here for dinner? We’re only, like, three blocks away.” Then Candace whispered about staying overnight. “And maybe stay overnight?” I put on my best begging voice. Well, wow, I’m not really used to this sort of thing. I’ve never had to worry about what you were up to. Are you sure it’s okay? “Mom, they’re great! Amazing! And we’re having such a good time. We’re gonna watch a movie and have Chinese; that is, if it’s okay? Um, if I stay? Please? Mom?” There was silence for a good ten seconds and I was getting very nervous.

She finally resumed. “I should probably meet your friends and their parents. I suppose I could come over there…? Three blocks, you said?”

Omigosh, now what do I do? This is not good. “Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Collins have already gone out to dinner.” I shrugged sheepishly at Candace and gave her an awkward smile. She shrugged back. “Mom, I’ve met them and they’re lawyers, really rich, you should see this place…I think I’m safe.” We were all giggling and Candace and Verity were rolling on the couch with their hands over their mouths.

“She’s safe! I promise!” Candace yelled. Was that a girl? Are you with a girl? Thank god mom didn’t catch the ‘she’ Candace blurted. “Mom, you know you can’t tell at this age.” Yeah, okay, I suppose you’re right. You still sound like a girl, too. Sorry, sweetie. “It’s okay mom, I don’t mind, really. So, can I stay?” Okay, but I’m going to save this number into my contacts and I’ll call at ten to make sure everything’s okay. Alright? “That’s cool, mom, thanks! Talk to you later, and don’t worry!” Bye sweetie. Have fun!

Omigod, that was a tapdancing nightmare! Ooh. Tapdancing! But I get to stay! Whoo hoo! We all three hugged and called in our order. Time to get down to business!

We sat eating our amazing, delicious Chinese food in our period costumes, trying not to mess up our lipstick with lo mein noodles hanging out of our mouths. Then Verity pipes up again. “Oh my god, she can even use chopsticks!” I grinned and shrugged sheepishly. “Okay, seriously, I think you need to leave, Miss Perfect,” she said with a serious look on her face and my heart sunk and my throat began to close as tears began to well up. Horror struck her face and she reached for my hand. “Oh no, babe, I was just teasing you! You know me. God, please don’t cry, I’m sorry.” She glanced at Candace, beseeching her assistance.

“Kayla, girl, you’ll quickly learn that Verity is just a big tease. She doesn’t mean anything. Usually.” She grinned and looked at Verity.

“Yeah, I really can’t help it. It’s like a genetic quirk or something. And when somebody seems so perfect, like you, my epigenetic sarcasm DNA molecules go into overdrive.” She gave a wan, sheepish smile.

“Perfect? You think I’m perfect?” I asked tearfully, almost in a whisper.

“Please!” She blurted. “You play the piano like that, that piano guy, Mozart, you’re gorgeous, you read books for god’s sake! Needlepoint, tea and doilies. Need I go on?” We all giggled, I with a tearful hiccup.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” I whispered.

“Stop fishing for compliments, princess. Oops, see? I did it again. It’s genetic, I swear.” She raised her hand as if under oath.

“Um,” I began tentatively, sure I was about to ruin the best day of my life. “I…I’m not perfect, you guys. I know you were kidding, but, really, there’s something I have to tell you and you’re probably going to hate me. And I really like you guys. I’ve never had friends like you, and…” I started to cry.

They both leaned over and began hugging me and cooing, with Verity being uncommonly gentle, “oh, sweetie, what’s wrong? How can you have done anything so bad to make us not want you as a friend? We feel lucky to have stumbled on you and your surreal tea party wagon. By the way, where’s the Mad Hatter?” We all laughed. I hiccuped again, which brought more giggles.

I took a deep breath. “It’s not something I did, it’s who- no. What, I am. How I was born.” They both sat rapt with attention, compassion and confusion oozing from their eyes. “I figured if we’re gonna have a sleepover I should say. I, I guess I coulda just lied and gone home, I guess, but I’m having so much fun, best day ever, and I’ve never been to a sleepover…”

“What?” They chimed, simultaneously, shock and horror on their prettily made-up faces. “How is that possible?” Verity spluttered. “Well, fuck! We’re gonna take care of that right now, aren’t we?” She looked at Candace.

“Wait!” I cried. “Let me get this out, then you can decide.” They turned back toward me with concern on their faces.

To Be Continued…

 

House Call A Transgender Novelette By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 10,986   Warning: Contains mild, slightly graphic, sexual content and language

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Of course, it had to be raining. It was only half-past seven in the evening, but the darkness was already overwhelming, the only light being the tantalizing iridescence of distant street lamps shimmering across the liquefying pavement toward my soaked sneakers. I always liked Converse All-Stars; I have them in seven different colors, but the canvas doesn’t seem to do too well in torrential downpours.

My long blonde hair felt like it was matted and glued to my shoulderblades, stapling my 4-Non Blondes t-shirt to my back. My god, Matty is gonna see this wreck and slam the door in my face. He probably won’t even recognize me, I thought. Heck, I don’t recognize me, or my life anymore. Will Matt remember me? Did he ever really like me? I guessed I was about to find out.

“Holy shit! Drew?! You look like a fucking drowned rat! What the hell?” Matty is now a resident doctor in the ER down the road, but he still kept his mouth firmly residing in the old neighborhood.

“What kind of doctor talks like that?” I gave a bashful grin while scrunched against the chill and damp, drips of rain trickling down my cheeks. I looked up, way up, into those baby blues.

“This one!” He smiled, then his face immediately became serious and concerned again. “God, kiddo, I haven’t seen you in ages, then you show up looking like some poor waif out of Dickens.” He put his big arm around my shoulders and led me inside his nice and warm but very spartan flat.

“Sorry, Matty, but I could sure use a place to stay tonight. Do you think…?”

“Dude! Kid, of course you can, but I gotta fly, my shift starts at eight. Find yourself something dry to wear and I’ll be back around, oh, eight-fifteen in the morning. Okay? Will you be alright? It’s really great to see you; you’ll have to tell me all about it in the morning. I’m gone!” His words were subject to the Doppler Effect as he began his flight down the rainswept street.

Wow! He looks good, I thought, as I closed the door and began to look around the place. Really good. I assumed his room would be near the back of the flat, as they almost always are. There was a smallish room to the left, but straight ahead looked like it must be the master as there was a light on and about a month’s worth of clothes strewn across the carpet. Is that a pizza box? And a beer can?

The queen sized bed was disheveled, but I’m sure it still looked a lot better than I did. Ah, yep, full-length mirror behind the door tells me I was more than right. Yikes! I rummaged through his dresser drawers to find something to wear. Everything was so damned big. He was at least an extra large, maybe 2x, being about six-five and two-fifty. So, that would make me about half his size, literally. I am precisely five-five and one-fifteen. I think that’s why he has always called me kid or kiddo. I am kid-sized. Worthy of a happy-meal-sized. I marveled at the mammoth clothing I was pulling out of the drawers. I decided to make it easy on myself and just grab one of his button-down oxfords hanging in the closet. Save me some rummaging around.

It fell like a dress on me, or, as it’s eight p.m., I suppose a nightgown. But I was totally out of luck for dry underpants. I would just have to hang mine up in the shower and go commando until morning. The thermostat was next to, what I assumed was, the guest room. So, after I turned it up two degrees, I had a peek inside. It was a perfectly turned out room, but decidedly feminine. He didn’t say anything about living with anyone or being married for that matter. There was no one else here at the moment in any case.

I didn’t dare dream of sleeping on that beautiful bed, but hoped fervently that there would be a pair of underpants in one of the drawers that would be near my size. Bingo! Size five pink cotton panties will have to do until my boxers dry out. I did sneak a peak at the pretty satiny ones, but that would just be weird, right?

I slid back into the bathroom and tracked down a brush and blow dryer. I left my hair tie out for the evening and just went to plop down on the sofa in front of his massive (of course) television. I grabbed the remote, but then spied the fridge out of the corner of my eye. I could sure use a nibble and a little something to drink.

I placed an apple, a chunk of cheddar, and a glass of dry white wine on the coffee table, then slipped onto the sofa with my legs tucked under me. I plaited some stray hair behind my ear while I happily grabbed up the remote again, determined to find a nice rom-com to get caught up in. Ooh, I found “Dancing Queens” instead. God, I love that show!

It was still dark and still drizzling when I awoke. “Alexa, what time is it?” I asked. Nothing. Oh my god, who doesn’t have an Alexa these days? So I did it the old-school analog way. I turned the light on with my fingers (of all the nerve!) and glanced at the clock over the kitchen table. Six-oh-four. Two hours before he gets home - I gotta get busy. I noticed I finished the wine, but there was still half an apple on the table. Sigh. I don’t even remember any of the show.

The half-eaten apple and the now-plasticine cheddar were chucked into the kitchen trash - what? No bin-liner? Eeeew. I put my glass into the dishwasher, then decided to tackle the mess he left in the kitchen sink, on the counter, and on the kitchen table, not to mention the trash bin with myriad streaks of rainbow colors down the insides. Gag. One of the cabinet doors was still open and my foot stuck to something on the linoleum. Good lord, this man needs me! I thought to myself, not realizing at the time how weird that sounded.

I finished the kitchen by seven and decided to tackle his bedroom. The lucky duck had a full washer and dryer next to the guest room, so I made good use of them. The clock struck eight just as I eased the vacuum back into the coat closet. Time to see what I can rustle up for breakfast. I remembered the fridge was pretty bare, but by some miracle found four eggs rolling around one of the shelves and a half packet of bacon in the bottom drawer. So I made a couple of cheese and bacon omelets and fried up a couple slices of bacon for on the side. I dug out two slices of bread from the center of the bag and found what I believed to be the only remnants without fuzzy green foliage sprouting from them. The rest went into the trash. I definitely need to go shopping today.

I buttered the toast and threw it all together onto the table just as I heard keys rattling in the front door. “Wow, something smells great! What have you…?” He stood inside the door staring with his mouth open. I turned toward him as I closed the fridge door, tucking my hair behind my ear and smiling widely.

“Good morning! Hope you’re hungry!” I saw his expression. “Matty, what’s wrong?”

“Umm, nothing. You just looked, umm… Smells great!” He recovered, trying to tone down the blush on his face and reopen a throat that seems to have almost closed up on him.

“I thought what with a twelve-hour shift you might be hungry when you got home. Not a lot to choose from in there, but I think I did alright.” I smiled up at him as he approached the table.

“Looks delicious,” he said softly, not taking his eyes off me. He blushed again and looked away.

“Well, come on and tuck in. It’s gonna get cold. I don’t suppose you want coffee being you’ve been up all night? I couldn’t find any juice in your fridge, which was a total disaster, I might add.” I fake scolded him.

He blushed again. My god he’s cute when he’s embarrassed! “I have to say that I haven’t seen you blush this much since our eighth grade musical when your voice was breaking in the middle of your solo.” Hah! I made him blush again! Ain’t I a stinker? “Sorry, dig in hon, I mean, Matty.” My turn to blush, oops. What was happening to me?

He looked up from his omelet. “Yeah, I remember that. I just realized how your voice never did break. I never noticed how sweet and melodic it is. It’s pretty.” Damn him for turning the blushing tables on me.

“Um, thanks. So? How’s your omelet?” I fished.

“Wow. I mean, I haven’t had real food in like two months. This is really, really delicious Drew. Well done.” He took a big bite of his toast.

“Oh, I had to throw most of your bread away as it was green and walking across the kitchen floor.” I looked at him from beneath my eye lashes, raising my brows. “I think I’ll run for groceries in a bit. I forgot to wash my clothes, though. But I got yours done!” I smiled.

“You what? I mean, thanks Drew, that’s really nice of you. You shouldn’t have, though.”

“Of course, I should. You really saved me last night. My knight in shining armor and all that. I thought I was going to end up on a park bench or something. And to answer your question, my bastard father finally threw me out.” I squinched up my nose and eyebrows and held back a tear.

“I see. I’m sorry, but you are 28, right?” He offered, too logically for my tastes.

I rolled my eyes. “Silly! I’m 26. Did you forget I started school one year early and skipped fourth grade just in order to catch up with you?”

“Yeah, that’s why. Nothing to do with being a smart ass! I mean, smart, really smart.” He grinned. “So, tell me, how is it that I turn out to be the doctor and you end up on the streets?” He winked.

I stuck my tongue out at him and tossed a bit of toast at his chest. “God, you’ve always been such a brat,” I whined. “Just go to bed, why don’t you?” I flicked my wrist towards his bedroom.

He just shook his head. “We still need to talk, but I will usually sleep until noon on Fridays, then get a full night’s sleep Friday night. I get weekends off these days, you know.”

“Gosh, I’m really glad to hear that. Truly. I could use your input on where I go from here. Now, go to bed mister.” I snapped the kitchen towel on his fine butt. When the hell did I go gay? I giggled and shook my head to myself.

“Hey! What happened to my room?” I heard from a distance.

“You may not recognize it, but that’s what neat and clean looks like!” I yelled back cheerily. “Go to bed dammit!”

*

I figured I would get the shopping out of the way while Matt slept. Oh shit! I’ve nothing to wear, I thought, placing my hands on my hips while I lightly stomped my right foot. I decided to check the spare room for clothing as the panties seemed to fit me rather well; maybe there’s something else that’ll work? I pulled open a drawer and to my delight found a dozen t-shirts in myriad colors. But, it’s too cold out - so I tried another drawer. Ahh, sweatshirts. I grabbed a cute one that said Hello Kitty! with a big pink kitty head on it. That oughtta work, but I noticed that the wide open neck kept wanting to slide off my slim shoulders. Whatever.

Pants, I assumed, were going to be trickier. But, surprisingly, the first pair of jeans I found in the closet worked just fine. In fact, they fit better than any jeans I’ve ever had. Or any pants I’ve ever had, for that matter. Nice!

I didn’t figure I would need the hoodie or the bomber jacket I found in the closet, as Mr. Googley says it’s going to be near sixty later today. I then Googled for the nearest supermarket, and there was one only two blocks away. So I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and I was off!

Shoot, my shoes were still a bit damp. Poop. Anyway, I wasn’t homeless because I was poor. I was homeless because my dad didn’t think I had a proper job; I wasn’t manly enough (I guess getting my ears pierced was a bridge too far for him); and, after all, I was too old to be living at home. I supposed if I had been more like Matt, dad would have let me live at home till I was sixty. Whatever. Mom didn’t say anything, as she went along with anything dad said. I suppose all of dad’s reasons were true to some degree, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. I could do my writing anywhere, so screw him! I felt bad just then, as I didn’t even like to think swear words let alone say them out loud.

I hadn’t published anything yet, but my trust fund was so huge that I really never had to accomplish anything of import, or total crap for that matter. I guess I could’ve gone to a hotel last night, but I was in such a daze that I went to the first place I thought of. I didn’t want to be alone anyway and I wanted to feel safe. Matt was a very safe, very friendly face that I had always been able to count on when we were at school together. I had really missed him these past four years. I guess he had moved on and grown up and I just got stuck, at home, with my parents. Maybe this would be a good thing.

I bounced into the store and was greeted by a cheery “mornin’ miss!”

“Morning,” I replied, smiling. I had long ago given up on pointing out to people that I was technically a boy. It didn’t really matter and wasn’t worth the fuss. I think I may actually like it deep down. I knew I wasn’t big and macho and had come to terms with that quite easily as I had no designs on ever having sex with either gender. Just wasn’t something that took up much space in my mind. I didn’t really live on planet Earth very much anyway, being a writer and all, so I was totally fine with it. I said I’m fine!

So I really stocked up with lots of goodies and all the missing essentials for Matt’s sadly bereft larder. I bought a ribeye, a pound of big, button mushrooms, and some asparagus for tonight’s dinner. Unless he had other plans, of course. That’s another thing I came to terms with long ago - you can’t take anything for granted, as much as you would like to. When you don’t fit in anywhere and have only one friend (or none, as in the case of the last four years), you tend to do a lot of thinking. A lot. Not to mention a fair bit of crying, but I digress.

I found myself in a lane with a middle-aged checker who had short purple hair that stuck up in the back like a turkey tail. But she seemed to be efficient at her job, so, whatever. “Find everything okay, sweetie?”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

“You look really darling in that sweatshirt.” She chattered on.

“Really? Thanks.” I blushed. “It’s new.”

“Adorable.” She finished up. I waved my credit card over the magic box and thanked the nice lady.

A box boy ran over to help me with all my bags. “I’ll take those, ma’am.” He grinned.

Well, damn, I could get used to this. ‘Thank you, um, David,” I said, noticing his name tag. “But, I didn’t drive. I didn’t think and got too much stuff.”

“How far you goin’? He inquired.

“Just two blocks, really, but I don’t see how…”

“Oh, that’s nothin’, we’ll just use this cart. I’ll walk you home. It’s part of the service.” He was laying it on thick, but I found myself eating it up.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you. Thanks.” I lay my hand on his shoulder and smiled. We chatted as we strolled very, very slowly, it seemed, to Matt’s flat. David’s face fell a fair bit when Matt opened the door sporting just a towel round his waist, showing off his, um, twelve pack?

“Hey Drew, got your note!”

“Hi. Look Matty, I got wine!” I lifted a bottle and winked. David toted all the goodies into the kitchen. Then I gave the poor boy a fiver and thanked him again. He looked back at Matt and sullenly put his head down and dragged the cart back towards the store. “Oh, that was David. He was ever so sweet and helped me get all this home. I can’t believe how much I ended up buying. I’m such a ditz sometimes, I swear!”

“You, a ditz? I think not, darling. You just have ADD!” He laughed and grabbed my shoulder as I carried my one item into the flat. That cheeky bottle of pinot noir. Don’t think I didn’t notice that he called me darling! What a weird and wonderful day this was turning out to be.

*

“So, I thought I could make us dinner tonight, if you don’t have other plans, that is.” I prodded hopefully.

“Drew, I told you, you don’t have to do stuff around here. I’m just glad I could help you out. You don’t have to repay me by running yourself ragged.” He implored with his beseeching blue eyes.

“But, I want to. I can’t write all of the day in any case. I’d rather help out. Mom would always shoo me out of the kitchen when I tried to help her. Just let me do this, please?” I gave him puppy dog eyes. “Besides, I bought you a gorgeous ribeye!”

“Wow. How can I say no to that? Deal. Now, how bout we just sit and talk for a while? Do a little catching up?” He started over to the sofa.

“How ‘bout you put on some clothes first?” I grinned, giggling. Oh, pooh, why did I say that? Stupid!

He looked down at his towel and smiled. “Ah, yes. Forgot that bit. You distract me.”

“Do I?” Nobody’s ever said that to me before. I’ve never thought of myself as the distracting type, unless I’m chattering away unconsciously, like now. I’ve always been more of the ‘blend into the wallpaper’ type.

“Yes.” He put on his serious face, which was still damned handsome. “You look really cute in that outfit, by the way. It suits you, you know.”

“Yeah? Thanks. Um, about that. Where did all those clothes come from? They seem a bit small for you.” I gave him a cheeky grin and giggled.

He snorted. “Yeah, no. Those belonged to a girl named Kelly. She was an emergency room nurse. So, she got an offer in Chicago, I think it was, and was off in a flash. Didn’t even bother to pick up all her stuff. And there’s quite a lot there, as you can see. Weird, right?”

“Yeah, weird.” I got a knot in my stomach for a second, there. Until I found out she’s now a thousand miles away. Meow.

“So. It looks like her stuff fits you, so if you find anything you like, have at it.” He turned to go put some pants on, I’m assuming.

“Um, thanks Matt.” Bloody hell! For some reason, I dashed into the guest room and started rummaging through the shoes, giddy with excitement. There had to be twenty pairs in here. My Converse were still damp, so I was praying I could fit into something. Fate was smiling on me as all the shoes were only very slightly big on me. I came upon a pair of black suede boots with three inch kitten heels, and it was love at first sight. What’s happening to me?

I put them on over my jeans and strutted around the room. I was dreamily smiling to myself when I looked up and saw Matt standing in the doorway. I blushed and he smiled. “No offense, but, you really shoulda been a girl. You look really hot in those.” My blush intensified.

“It’s funny, ‘cause I really do love them!”

“You should, they really make your ass look quite…” He trailed off and became pensive.

I felt my butt. It did feel a bit perkier. I found another mirror on this door. “Excuse me, Matty, I think I need a peek at my bum.” I looked up at him and he practically jumped. I was surprised as he joined me in the room. I closed the door and had a peek, turning left, then right. Matt was looking at me in the mirror as well. He caught my eyes in the mirror and began to sidle up to me. I turned around. He reached around me and grabbed my ass. I just melted into him and felt his manhood press against my belly. I didn’t bolt. I didn’t freak out. But I looked demurely up into his eyes, hoping he wasn’t ready to make a dash for it. My appendage didn’t seem too bothered, but I did get the warm fuzzies deep in my tummy.

He just continued to look serene and thoughtful. “Shall we go open the wine?” He asked.

“Brilliant idea.” I squeezed him good and tight, then let go and slid my fingers across his ahem, zipper, whilst I headed for the kitchen and the bottle of wine and who knows what else. This was uncharted territory for me. And I’m guessing for him, too.

*

We polished off the wine while we chatted on the sofa. After a couple hours, I held my near-empty glass up while pointing to the little deck outside the sliding glass doors. “Do you know how to work that thing?” I asked.

“The grill? Never used it, but I’m sure it’s self explanatory.” He was getting brash with a flush of alcohol in his system. I giggled.

“Good. Preheat it to 500. I’ll season the steak and you just grill four minutes on each side. Do you think you can handle that mister man?” I gave him a kittenish grin.

“Sounds complicated. Methinks you may have to show me.” He grabbed me and pulled me into him as we fell back giggling onto the sofa. Our lips ended just inches apart. It felt like forever as he looked into my eyes, then at my lips and back and forth. I didn’t dare push, so I waited until he finally leaned in and gently brushed my lips with his own. He then came back for more, each time with a little more pressure and passion until I thought my nipples and panties would burst.

These are feelings I’ve never had before, and they were of such magnitude that I was quite certain I was falling in love. But, I didn’t want things to get weird. Well, I suppose it was a little late for that, so I pushed off him and said, “go on then, go start your grill. There’s a good fella.” I patted his chest and popped off to head to the kitchen. I gave a glance behind me and saw him still seemingly melted into the couch and looking a bit dreamy, or was that pensive confusion? I hoped it was dreamy, because that’s what I was feeling. I guess the steak can wait a few minutes, I thought, grinning to myself and turning back with a little more bounce to my step.

Somehow, I was not confused or conflicted. Maybe a bit bemused is all. In fact, a lifetime of confusion seemed to finally be dissipating, like morning fog under a warming sun. I smiled to myself while patting some butter into the well-marbled steak. I lightly shook my head and looked back toward Matty again. He was out on the deck staring off into the distance. I could see wavy lines of heat drifting up off the grill. Well, at least he’s got that bit sorted, I mused.

*

“Oh my god, this is the best steak I’ve ever had!” Matt blurted with his mouth full of meat and mushroom. “You could open a five-star restaurant with this,” he said wide eyed before his lids fluttered closed, slumping back with a satisfied smile and a quiet “mmmm.”

“Well, you grilled it, didn’t you? Job well done. You could be my sous chef.” I smiled up from beneath my lashes. He just grinned and took another bite, melting back into his chair. “More wine?” I lifted the newly opened bottle.

“Yes, please.” He pushed his glass toward me by the stem. “It’s very nice; what is this one?”

“It’s a cabernet. I know that’s not a very manly wine, but it’s a good one. Australian.” I said with great authority.

“Well, good on ya’ mate!” He smiled and we clinked glasses. I could get very used to this. Apparently he could, too, as he cleared his throat, getting serious for a moment. “I don’t want you to think you have to find your own flat immediately. Just relax and take your time. I find I’m really enjoying the company. Your company, I mean. You’re so much easier to talk to, more comfortable to hang out with than all the other, um, girls I’ve known.” He blushed and looked into his wine glass.

“All? Had quite a few then, have you?” I teased.

“That’s the part of that statement you have a problem with?” He laughed and shook his head. “I called you a girl and you focus on some obscure quantity in my little black book?”

I shrugged. “So, a whole book then? How can I be surprised, what with you being a big, tall, good-looking doctor. You’re every Jewish mother’s dream.”

He blushed with a little smile. “You’re not Jewish.”

“No, I’m a shiksa, and you’re a goy boy, so it’s all right.” I reached out and put my hand on his.

He glanced at our hands, then looked up slightly. “Is it? All right, I mean?”

Shit, that got real heavy, real fast. I patted his hand and stood up. “Of course. Let me clean up. Anything you want to do tonight? What do you usually do?”

“I’m usually so wrecked from the week that I just hang around in my underwear in front of the TV with a beer, drifting in and out of consciousness. Course, that’s just when I’m alone, which is most of the time, it seems. So, whatever you want would be quite a step up actually.” He was speaking softly while he stood behind me at the sink.

I just looked up and stared at the pretty tiles behind the sink, while washing a plate. “How long since you’ve been to a movie?”

“Oh, do they still make those?” He deadpanned.

I turned a little and glanced up at him. “That long, huh? Now that’s a sin. Man cannot live on Netflix alone, you know. You need to get out; get amongst ‘em.” God, I’m one to talk. Well, as they say, ‘those who can’t do, teach.’

“Doctor, heal thyself.” He looked down into my eyes, grinning, apparently reading my mind, somehow. “Go on then, go get changed. I’ll finish up the dishes.” He slapped my behind and I squealed.

I turned back and beseeched him, looking down at my outfit with outstretched hands and curious eyes. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

“Okay. Listen carefully as I will say this only once. Unless it’s miniature golf, Hello Kitty is not allowed.” He winked.

“Gotcha!” I giggled as I swung to the guest room that I had newly appropriated. “I happen to love miniature golf!” I tittered back over my shoulder.

“Oh, yes, I remember! Cheater!” He bellowed.

“I never!” I growled, looking at him back out and round the door to my new room, squinting my eyes. He just laughed as I spun and huffed back into the room, very softly slamming the door. Yes, that is possible.

I leaned back against the closed door and smiled. This was so much fun! So much better than when we were kids. Way better. I saw an old-school giant boombox on the dresser and pressed the button. ‘What’s Up?’ by 4-Non Blondes blasted out richly. “No frickin’ way!” I quietly yelled to the room. Yes, that’s possible, too.

I started spinning and strutting around the room, singing out Linda Perry’s awesome lyrics. I didn’t sport the low, rich, powerful and sultry tenor/alto that she had, but what my alto/soprano lacked was made up for with enthusiasm. Matt peeked his head in the door and used his eyes to ask for admittance. I smiled and reached my hand out, wiggling my fingers - come hither! They beckoned.

We danced and laughed and he spun me round, my hair getting caught on my glossy lips. He gently fingered my hair back into place as the song faded away. I gushed, “How?”

He looked wistful as he eased softly onto the bed. “I keep that disc in there and play it from time to time.”

“That is totally my favorite song of all time, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” He whispered, falling back thoughtfully onto the bed with his arms stretched out. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“Really? I was afraid you wouldn’t even recognize me when I showed up at your doorstep like a stray last night.” Gosh, was that just last night? I sat down next to him. “Why didn’t you call, then? You never said. I couldn’t know.”

“I was busy with med school…no, that’s a cop out. I was confused. I’m still a bit confused.” He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked me in the eye.

“Yeah. I guess I can see that. I’m confused, too. Well, no, I tell a lie. I’m actually the opposite of confused for the first time in my life. This all just feels so good, so right.” I waved my hand to encompass our whole little world in that moment.

He smiled. “I always wondered about you, you know.”

“Wondered? Oh, right. I’m pretty sure my parents wondered, too. And everybody else, if I’m honest. Weird thing is that I didn’t wonder a whole lot. About anything, really. I just got on with things in my own silly little way. Never thought about the future, either, really. I just wanted to write. Hopefully get published. That’s it. Nothing beyond that. How sad is that?” I frowned.

“What about now?” He asked softly.

“Now?” I laughed. “It’s odd, you know? I should be totally out of sorts and totally lost and terrified of a future that’s now up in the air.”

“Totally.” He teased and I slapped him on the thigh.

“Seriously. Matty, for the first time in like ever, I’m thinking a bit beyond the now, beyond the fictions. I actually feel like there’s a future for me. I don’t know what it is, but even just a taste of possibilities, a glimpse, feels really, I don’t know, liberating?” I lay back onto the bed and my head fell right onto his big, strong arm.

“That’s a big deal,” he whispered.

I turned my head toward him. “Yeah.”

*

Matt slid back out the door, giving me a little smile and nod on his way. When the door clicked shut, I jumped up and ran to the closet. What am I gonna wear? I giggled at the cliché I never imagined that I’d hear myself utter. Even if it was silently, in my head. There were dresses, but I hadn’t worn a dress in a really long time and I don’t exactly have the figure for it. For the moment, I mused and smiled to myself.

I spied a pair of black leather pants. I gasped. I always wondered what it would be like to wear something like that. They were so smooth and glistening. I grabbed them and tossed them on the bed with a little smile curling my lips. My lips, I thought, and glanced over at the vanity laden with makeup. I smiled wider then hunted for the lingerie drawer.

I found a black bra and panty set with a fair amount of lace. I fingered them with a flutter in my heart. Size 34B. I had no Idea what my chest size was, but I knew I wasn’t a B. I just had a little flesh covering my delicate bones. Almost flat, not even an A, I’m sure, I frowned. “For the moment,” I whispered again and my smile returned.

I got an idea and went back to the closet to find the silky burgundy blouse I had noticed a little while ago. So soft and gorgeous. I slipped my jeans, my jeans, off and into a puddle at my feet. Hello Kitty joined them, and the cotton panties. I looked at the strange bit of flesh, nearly hidden by a small bush of blonde foliage between my legs, and just shrugged. “For the moment,” I whispered again and tucked it between my legs quite easily. I was out of practice, so I had only just remembered that I hadn’t shaved my legs. Shaving peach fuzz wasn’t really necessary, but I remembered the lovely silky feel when I had done it in the past. I’ll be wearing hose and pants anyways, so it didn’t really matter just now. I felt the urge to shave the tufts of blonde hair under my arms, though.

I slid the black hose up my legs and that provided another layer of shielding for that pathetic piece of boyhood. I was so excited now that I grabbed the leather pants. Please fit, I prayed. Please, please, please. It was a slight struggle. Just a little skirmish, really, but I got them on over my hips and snapped and zipped and gasped. They were perfect! I looked in the mirror. “Holy shit!” I swore in a whisper, bringing my fingers up to my mouth in shame. Such a potty mouth, I blushed. They fit my curves like a glove. I have curves? Where did those come from?

I hooked my bra on and slid the straps over my shoulders. It’s cool they have a little padding and they seemed to be doing a little push up thing. I didn’t nearly fill them out, but I got a slight, yet tantalizing, strip of cleavage bisecting my hopeful chest. The cups were pretty firm, so I eschewed the idea of stuffage for fear that a sock would fall out in the middle of the mall or something. That might cause a bit of a scrum.

I decided it would be safer to also add a black, lacy cami. So I finally slid on the gossamer fabric of the burgundy blouse, buttoning it up to my “cleavage.” I pondered with my index finger to my lips. Then, I unbuttoned the bottom two buttons and tied the tails into a fluffy knot above my belly button. My taut belly peeked out and I touched it softly, gently. I smiled.

My hair was pretty much fine, just a massive mess of blonde waves cascading down my back. I would just tame it a little. I glanced back at the vanity, though. What would Matt think? Would makeup be a bridge too far? I couldn’t see how, as he already seemed to think of me as a girl. I may as well have fun with it and give it my all.

I loved slicking the foundation on my smooth skin, the smell, the tactile remembrances of my delicate features that pissed my dad off so well and so often. If he could see me now, I smiled. I blended and smoothed it all out with an awesome, super soft brush that just whispered across my skin. When I got to brushing on my mascara, I looked deeper into my eyes, into and then through the mirror as my last conversation with my father played in Technicolor and Dolby through my mind.

“Just look at you!” he sneered and snarled. “Twiddling your fancy-ass stories, looking like some kind of fairy. Metropolitan Sexist, my ass!” He bellowed.

I glanced up at him impassively. “The term is ‘metrosexual’ Daddy” I threw in ‘daddy,’ knowing it would get his goat. It always did when I was little, but I never knew why. I guess now I knew.

“Don’t be a fucking smart ass you goddam pansy! What the fuck did your mother do to you? What have I done to make you hate me so much? God damn it!” His face was pure beetroot. I feared he may finally have that heart attack Doc had warned him about.

I leaned back calmly and closed my laptop. “For your ‘god damn’ information, as you so eloquently put it, mom never did anything. In fact, she ignored me. I could have used a little motherly love on occasion, but I honestly don’t think she has it in her. Now you, on the other hand, have been after me my entire life to live up to your ‘goddam’ standards; your manly expectations - catch your stupid balls, play your stupid games, grab your stupid crotch and treat mom like shit. I don’t understand you. I don’t understand men. At all. All I know is that I’m me. Why couldn’t that ever be enough for your highness, your damned masculine pride? Although I could never understand how in the world that was anything to be proud of.” I finished in an even quieter tone.

My arms were still crossed and I continued to look him straight in the eye. I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, oh so femininely. I swallowed, my only discomfort being that I had just sworn more than I had in my entire 26 years combined. I don’t think they were all that effective or menacing. Coming out of me, even the most horrible swear words sound more like “that’s just cock-a-doody, you silly poo head!” I was a squirt gun; dad, on the other hand, was a howitzer, finely oiled and expertly targeted.

It took him a moment, but he finally, rather quietly, under the circumstances, growled “You and your goddamn faggot fine arts degree (ooh, nice alliteration; well done, daddy) get the fuck out of my house and don’t you ever darken my door again! You got that boy!? Or whatever the fuck you are. Just fuck off! Go on, beat it! Now!”

I grabbed my laptop and clutched it to my chest, scurrying toward the front door. I slowed, turned slightly and looked from the corner of my eye. “You might find it edifying, old man, that it’s not possible for me to be gay. Though I would love to be, just to piss you off. I have never had sex. I have never even thought of sex. Weird, huh?” He just stared at me, blank and ruddy. Then I turned to my mom. “Bye mom. I love you.” I shrugged. “For some reason.” I whispered. I softly clicked the front door closed and shivered, looking up into the cold rain.

I didn’t cry. That was kinda weird. I shook my head and allowed the smile to return to the face in the mirror. My face; a pretty face; not metrosexual; female; feminine; mine.

It’s true. I had never even thought about sex, until now that is. Nobody ever turned me on, boy or girl. Guess I didn’t have a switch. And when sex did enter my consciousness it just seemed gross and debasing, a necessary evil to perpetuate the species. But now…

Why now, all of a sudden? Was it a confluence of events? Seeing Matt? Him seeing me with lust in his eyes? Men and boys calling me ‘miss’ all day? Me wearing properly fitting clothes? Clothes that seemed to be interesting to me, nay, lovely. They fit me; they are me. They prove me; define me. To me and the world.

I refocused. I found a lovely pinky bronzey lipstick that really tied my look all together. Wow. I was really pretty. I think. I guess I’ll know for sure when Matt sees me. Course, he said I was pretty even when I wasn’t wearing makeup. That’s a confidence booster for any girl. Am I a girl? Do I finally know what I am? Dad sure couldn’t define me, but maybe Matt can? Do others define us more than we ourselves do? Sigh, I should save all that deep meditation for when I’m in front of a blank page, wondering what to write.

I riffled through my jewelry box for the right earrings. Ooh, an earrings and necklace set with small, tasteful gems that looked like dark rubies! I practically salivated as I lifted them out and placed the earrings in my ears. Amazing. The weight and inertia, tugging and gently swaying on my lobes was actually quite sensual.

I began to get up, pushing off the top of the vanity when I noticed my nails. I hadn’t thought to do my nails. I’d done them before, many years ago and remembered how I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. I’d glance at them as I took a sip of juice, or turned the knob on the radio, or anything that put them into view. What made the experience so pleasurable? Do boys like the look of nail polish on girls? I remembered how I’d learned that certain cosmetics mimicked the body’s own sexual signals. They were a mating song. A dance, or fine plumage.

I noticed now that my nails were quite long, maybe a quarter inch. No wonder dad thought I was a pansy. I giggled. They needed a little shaping, but they would do well. Kelly had good taste and I found a polish that went very nicely with my outfit. An iridescent burgundy. Just as I finished brushing on the glossy top-coat, a soft knock sounded from the door. “Drew?” It was Matt, duh.

“I’m ready, kinda. Just a sec.” I blew on my nails, then I daintily turned the door knob and stepped back into the room. I kept blowing and waving my hands in the air, then I put my hands on my hips, kicking my right hip out and asking coyly, “so, what do you think?”

He just stood staring. My god, is that a good sign or a bad sign? I may be looking for a flat sooner than I’d hoped, which was never, to be perfectly honest. How long has he been staring? Should I say or do anything? My lip began to quiver and I began crying. I flopped on the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot! I just thought I’d try it. Maybe it would be fun? God, what’s wrong with me?” I slapped the bed. Oh no! My nails!

He laughed and I looked up sheepishly. “What’s so funny?” I asked, pouting.

“You are, you silly girl!” He looked at me intensely, but with good humor. “Come here.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me up into him. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, you just left me totally speechless. My mind was well and truly blown. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“Really? You really think so?” I must have looked like Bambi staring up into his eyes.

“Oh my god, yes. Really and truly. I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful woman in all my life.” He looked into my eyes. Was it longing? Love? Lust? Kindness? All of the above?

“Stop teasing me.” I turned my head away and pouted.

“I’m not, I promise. Come here.” He stood me in front of the mirror. I had gained a few inches on him, but he still towered over me in my four-inch stilettos, which were gorgeous by the way. I kicked my foot out to admire them. I turned my ankle to get a better look. “Smile,” he said.

I looked up into his eyes and couldn’t help but obey. That smile made all the difference. “Wow,” I breathed.

“Wow, indeed.” He grabbed my hand gently and led me out the door. “I’m sorry, but I refuse to take you to the movies tonight.”

“Oh, why not?” I practically whined.

“You are much too beautiful to waste sitting in a dark theater. How does dinner and dancing sound? I have an irrational desire to show you off.” He grinned.

“Irrational?” I enquired meekly.

“Sorry, I misspoke. This will probably be the sanest, most rational thing I’ve ever done in my life. Beauty must be shared and savored. Not to mention, you’re quite good company as well. Who makes better conversation that a novelist?” He smiled and led me to the sofa.

I was quiet. I was happy. I was ecstatic. I was well and truly head over heels in love. I snuggled into him and just sighed. What was there to say? God, he smelled good.

*

Dinner was amazing, and romantic, and expensive! I think; there were no prices on the menu, so it just stood to reason. Langostinos with garlic butter; herbed cous cous with pine nuts; Roasted winter vegetables with rosemary. My god, and here I thought I was nothing but a Taco Bell girl. “You spoil me,” I said. “I may be ruined for Taco Bell now.”

He laughed long and hard. Such a gentle, musical laugh. Baritone, I think. He grabbed my pretty, delicate hand. “Such beauty and such delight requires spoiling. I feel compelled to spoil you rotten; absolutely and disgustingly rotten.” He whispered and winked at me.

“Wow, that was really corny.” My laugh, clearly soprano this time, snuck out and nearly rang the crystal of the wine glasses. The wine was very nice also, by the way.

I furrowed my brow and looked at him intently. “Why are you not freaked out?” I enquired. “I mean, we used to be little boys running around back in the day. Doesn’t that weird you out just a little?”

“Not even a little bit. Honestly. Because I knew what apparently no one else seemed to. You were a girl, even then. I could tell. I could totally tell. And, I might add, that I don’t recall you doing a whole lot of running around. You were either sitting quietly by yourself, making up stories with your dolls, or with Tina from three doors down, making up stories with your dolls. Remember her? God, you were so much more of a girl than her.”

“I didn’t think you even knew we existed. Especially me. I mean, you were so much older than us, after all. And a boy. Eww.” I giggled.

“Oh yes. I noticed, and vive le difference. I was intrigued, fascinated. You were so obviously a different species, I couldn’t help but watch you and marvel at you, surreptitiously of course.”

“Of course.” I smiled and sipped my wine.

*

After dancing the night away, we finally made our way home. His really comfy BMW was so smooth and silent I nearly nodded off. “Did you have fun?” Matt asked, putting his hand on my thigh, which sent a warm ripple through my entire body like a stone into a formerly still pond. I startled.

“So much. It was an absolutely lovely evening. I don’t dare say perfect as I have nothing to compare it to, and I’m kinda hoping it happens again.” I hugged his arm.

We slowed and stopped at a stoplight. Why is there a stoplight at one in the morning? There’s nobody coming the other way. That kinda thing always bugged me. He reached over and stroked my cheek with his left hand. I had his right hand in a straightjacket. “Oh, you can count on it. Do you mind that I think I’m falling in love with you? There, I said it.”

“Wow. Out loud and everything.” I giggled. “I don’t think I mind. It is kinda weird though. We’ve only known each other for one day, really. This way, I mean.” I laid out my palm and motioned between us. He grabbed my hand out of the air and kissed it. “Although. I suppose I ought to confess that I fell in love with you last night as I stood in the doorway, soaking wet and looking into your eyes.” Those eyes. “And today it just kept getting stronger. Weird, huh?”

“Not weird.” He put his free hand behind my head and pulled me closer. He leaned in and began a kiss that curled my toes and eyelashes. The car behind honked and I laughed into his mouth.

“Home, Jeeves!” I giggled, and we were off.

*

It seems the sofa was our spot. I hung my purse on the hat stand/umbrella thingy, slipped off my shoes (god, I love them, although my dogs were barking quietly in the night) and we plopped down together on the sofa. I don’t think he let go of my hand for the past hour. I wasn’t going to complain. I didn’t let go of his, either. He began to lean in, but I put a finger to his mouth. “Hold that thought. I need to visit the little girls’ room.” I noticed him watch my bum as I wiggled to the potty. I gave a little smile to myself. Until I sat and saw that sad little boy between my legs try to go wee wee. I was beginning to dislike that thing very much. I wiped and tucked and pulled myself together. I checked my makeup and made a few minor repairs.

On the way back, I made a side trip to the fridge to pull out a bottle of white. Just a simple, sweet, chardonnay. I grabbed two glasses and a wine bottle coaster and plopped back beside my man. Mine I say! Get away! “Can you stomach a cheap and cheerful chardonnay?” I asked.

He gave a little grin with a twinkle. “Oh yes. I like anything cheap and cheerful.” He poked me in the belly button.

“Hey!” I protested, rather weakly, and slapped him on the arm. I then handed him the corkscrew. “Could you?”

“Yes, ma’am. This can’t be too cheap if it has an honest-to-goodness cork in it.” He filled the glasses and we clinked.

“Well, I guess it’s relative, after a $200 bottle with dinner.” I pointed out.

“True. I suppose I need to take out an extra appendix this week to cover it. Oh, and a kidney might cover the dinner.” He raised his glass with a wink and a smile. God, he’s charming. I’m smitten. Totally smit! I’m a smitten kitten. God, it sucks being a writer sometimes!

“Yeah, right! You assist in the ER! Okay now. Let’s see. Earlier you were corny, then cheesy, now a bit saucy. Are you intending to go for the whole enchilada?” I gave him a wink and a smile back.

His face got serious, then he put his glass down. Oh oh, now I’ve done it. Why can’t I just keep my big, stupid, pun-spewing mouth shut! He looked me in the eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the sofa. Oh my god, I’ve ruined everything!

“Come with me,” he growled. I shuffled behind him as he led me towards his bedroom. He sat me down on his bed, holding both my hands, he looked again into my eyes.

“What’s wrong Matt? Honey?” I thought I may begin shaking and a tear began to well up.

He shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything is right, just like you said, for the first time in my life. And yes, I do intend to go for the whole enchilada. If you’ll have me, that is.”

I could barely swallow. “Are you proposing?”

“Oh no. I’m saving that for tomorrow.” He smiled, but with a serious expression on his face. His gorgeous, scruffy-stubbled face. “For tonight, would you allow me the great honor of taking your flower?”

“My flower?” I squeaked.

“Yes. Your virginity.” His face was utterly earnest.

“Oh, but, do you think I have a flower?” I weakly whispered over the loud pounding of my heart.

“Oh yes, I’m sure of it. And I’m sure I love you.” He stroked my face and I thought I would burst. “May I?”

“Um. Of course,” I stammered. “But what about…?”

He put a finger to my lips. “We will see what we shall see, okay?” I simply nodded. He began unbuttoning my blouse and I shuddered. Then came the leather pants and pantyhose. He clearly knew the order in which to disrobe a woman. I was left in just my bra and panties. He admired the view for a moment. Then he fingered a bra strap, then around a lacy cup before he unhooked the bra with true skill. Next, he placed his finger on the band of my panties - I gasped and held his hand there, afraid to let him go further. “It’s okay, I promise,” he whispered. He nodded sagely as he caught a glimpse of my vestigial organ. He quickly disposed of his own clothing, then gently lifted me bodily and lay me back down softly on the pillow. “You’re beautiful,” he reassured me. I just let out a deep shudder and swallowed. He caressed my throat tenderly. “No adam’s apple,” he whispered matter-of-factly. I simply shook my head. He kissed me and then slid down several inches.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m a doctor.” I nodded again, mutely. He startled me when he flicked a nipple and I gasped. It stood to attention and he smiled. ‘Well done,” he whispered. “Clever girl.” He then began sucking on my left…breast? It sent shock waves throughout my body and I bucked, gasping and moaning. He gave my right breast similar attention before kissing me gently all the way down the front of me, well too close to my little thingy. He inspected it gently with two fingers, as if it were an interesting specimen of inchworm. He frowned, but more with fascination than with disgust, it seemed. “You’re wet below,” he mentioned, as if in passing. He ran his hand under my appendage and brought it back up, clearly glistening. He sniffed it, frowned again, and to my shock and near horror, he licked it!

“What are you doing?” I whispered hoarsely, not betraying my disgust.

“I’ll tell you later. I’m rather busy just now,” he gave me a quick smile as he lifted up and gave me the first glimpse of his fully erect manhood. I gasped.

“Oh my god!” I whispered huskily, my eyes going wide. “I don’t think that will fit anywhere in me. Not even my mouth!” I let out a nervous giggle.

“Would you like to try? It’ll make the next part easier, I think. Although you are pretty wet already.” I nodded and he got to his knees above me. I held it with awe for a moment, before I licked around the head then placed my mouth around its massive girth. I couldn’t get a lot of it in me before it reached the back of my throat. I gagged and he said quietly “that’s plenty good. Let’s give it a go.”

He pulled away from my mouth and slid back down between my legs. I spread them wide in anticipation. Or was it fear? First, he stuck a finger in me, just below my foreign skin, slowly wending the finger around inside me. I gasped. It felt rather nice. It didn’t feel like he was going in my bum, though. Now I was intrigued, too. He licked and inserted two fingers, then three, then one from his other hand, stretching me a little each time. I moaned with pleasure and very slight pain. Did he find my flower?

My little worm twitched a little as he rubbed up against it. Then came time for the main event. It was at this inopportune moment that I remembered the episode of Big Bang when Bernadette warned Amy against having her first sexual experience with a very large man. She said something like “It would be like learning to drive using a bus!” I couldn’t giggle. I was overwhelmed by trepidation.

But he took it slow, and gentle, waiting for my folds to spread enough to accept him. He was simply knocking quietly at the door. Would I let him in? Yes! I screamed in pain, or was it shock? “I’m sorry,” I whispered. He shook his head slowly and softly and smiled with moist eyes. I settled in. It no longer hurt; well, not as much anyway. The pleasure began to surpass the pain until it threatened to blot it out completely. He pumped slowly, now looking into my eyes, which were still wide as a witness to shock and awe.

He somehow reached full penetration and his balls began slapping my behind. Strange sound and sensation, I have to admit. I became conscious of the wonderful fulness, having him completely within me. He filled me up to overflowing and I found bliss as my eyes fluttered closed and my hands gripped at his chest. I bucked, timing my thrusts to a cosmic tempo, a new music within me. I swear I could almost hear it, the harmony of the worlds. Our worlds. All worlds.

All this while, his member was rubbing against my little worm and all of a sudden it seemed to come to life, sending an electric shock through me. No, a flood. A hurricane of transcendent pleasure whipping through every corner of my being. I thought for sure I was on the cusp of death, and at that moment, I don’t think I would have minded at all. What a way to go!

I had screamed, so he brought on his own climax in short order, causing a few more ripples within me, more squalls. Thoughtfully, he did not collapse upon me, but deftly rolled to my side, with a moaning thrust of air telling me he was spent. I was spent. And my life would never be the same again.

*

Matt scheduled me with one of his colleagues. A gynecologist of all things. I thought he was being a bit optimistic, but he had explained his findings to me - revelations apparently discovered during our wonderful evening of bliss. I had a hard time believing his speculations and insisted on a specialist. I think he was probably hurt. He said, “perhaps I’m no expert, but I was there. I had an insider’s view, a perspective no one else can possibly have.”

I pouted at him. “I know, sweetie. But, would you just humor me, please? I still find it hard to fathom. But, even if you’re right, we still have to find out what else is happening and what all the ramifications are. Forgive me?”

“Of course. You’re entirely right, of course. I’m just being stubborn. I have to bring in the big guns on this one.” He beamed at me and shook his head, still bemused and not a little amazed.

Dr. Frankel quickly verified Matt’s diagnosis. With my legs up in stirrups (I wore a dress for the occasion, although I eschewed my new silicone breasts) he wiggled around a spectroscope projecting on a laptop by the gurney/bed thingy. “You, my dear, have definitely got a vagina. It’s been hidden, but it’s beautiful.” He smiled at me. “It’ll take some scans to figure out what’s at the other end of the tunnel, so to speak. We’ll also run a complete hormonal workup so we can get a full picture. You also have breasts, but they are very small. I’m assuming you’d like a little more, um, cuppage, in that area?” He gave me a crooked smile.

“Yes, I would.” I smiled and looked up at Matt. “You’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”

He blushed. “Well, yes, I wouldn’t reject them at any rate. I’ll take you as you will deign to allow me…” He finally realized where we were. “Um, yes, I’d like that, very much,” he admitted.

The doctor, the other doctor, smiled and chuckled. “Right, well, let’s get you dressed and go draw some blood while we set up the CT scan, yes?”

*

We were texted the results of the bloodwork and CT while we were at lunch - Taco Bell! So, we rushed back to the hospital to hear the news. Turns out that the DNA analysis would probably take a week. But that didn’t matter, as Dr. Frankel pulled up the images of my CT on the large screen, cast from his laptop.

“As you can see…” Dr. Frankel began.

“She’s a woman!” Matt gasped, despite his surety that this was the case all along. He blushed and stuttered. “I mean, sorry, I see them - ovaries, fallopian tubes…”

“You really see all that?” I marveled. “Looks like a Rorschack test to me.” Then it hit me. “Wait. Ovaries?”

“If I may?” Dr. Frankel retook the reins. “Yes, it’s all there. The puzzling thing is why haven’t you gone through puberty? We may have to wait for the DNA for that answer, although we already have a clue.” He handed me the bloodwork results. “See below the estrogen levels, which are rather low? The Sex Hormone Binding Globulins?” I looked up with a blank face, while Matt simply nodded.

“Wow, they are extremely high, way out of range,” Matt mused.

“Yes. Drew, SHBGs are glycoproteins that serve to modulate hormone levels and can act as transfer molecules. High levels equals low levels of estrogen in women and testosterone in men. So, essentially, you have remained in suspended animation in a prepubescent state. In fact, your estradiol levels are lower than young girls or postmenopausal women.” Dr, Frankel looked me directly in the eyes. “My guess, is that androgens outpaced estrogens at the time your vulva and clitoris were forming, giving you a pseudo-penis. Here is the image. As you can see, on your small tubule, the urethra is on the bottom side. This is a tell-tale sign of an intersexed situation. Frankly, I’m surprised the OBGYN missed this when you were born.”

“That’s totally messed up!” I blurted. Then I blushed. I was suddenly totally pissed off. “I am so sorry, but, are you saying they should have known I was a girl way back then? I could have had a ‘normal’ life as a girl?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” He looked at me with an empathetic frown and I began crying 26 years worth of tears. A missed girlhood, a missed puberty, no sleepovers, or makeovers, or giggling or hugging or cheering or boyfriends!…I missed it all, and the sobs came very hard. Maybe my father would have loved me…and my mom…?

*

I was completely spent and stared through a murky haze on the drive home. Matt took my hand in his. “I am so sorry, Drew.” He lifted my hand and kissed it ever so gently. I just turned to stare at him, then looked down into my lap and at my pretty nails.

Finally I said, “sorry for what?” while still staring down and playing with the hem of my dress.

“Everything. I know you missed out. I know you’ve been confused, inert, lonely…” He looked over sadly, then back to the road.

“You know all that? You really? You really understand without even thinking about it? You? How?” I was darned eloquent when the mood struck me.

“Because I know you. I’ve always known you.” He kissed my hand again.

I gave him a little smile as I looked lovingly towards where I knew his eyes would be when I began speaking. I whispered. “You have a heck of a bedside manner, Dr. Jamison. Your patients must love you.”

“Must they?” He returned my wan smile.

“I do.” I took his very large arm and used it as a body pillow, gently rubbing the side of my face along it like a kitten.

“You know, today is tomorrow.” He said cryptically. “Remember how I was saving something for tomorrow…right now, this moment?”

“What?” I quirked a smile at him like he was some sort of weirdo, which, essentially he was. Oooh, a new book title - Weirdos in Love!

“Drew Avery Castle…Will you do me the honor and become my wife?” He looked earnestly into my eyes, still holding my hand.

I think I about peed my pants. Wife? Wow! Holy…just, oh my god! “Yes,” I whispered and leaned in to give him a sweet, red-light kiss. The car behind us honked. The light had turned green. Perhaps with envy?

The End

 

Kerry A Transgender Tale Short Novelette By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 7,900 Image from Adobe Stock: FILE #: 323876419

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Yeah, my name is Kerry. A weird name for a boy, just ask the bullies. But, apparently I was named after my dad’s favorite pitcher on his favorite team. Kerry Wood, of the apparently loveable Chicago Cubs. Yep, Kerry Ryne Miller. My middle name came from dad’s other favorite player, Ryne Sandberg; another weird name - thanks dad. Apparently, they were big deals when my dad was a kid in the 80’s.

Anyways, my dad comes home from work and says, “guess what kiddo? I won a raffle and you get to be bat-boy for a day for the Cubs, isn’t that cool?” I just raised an eyebrow.

“What the heck is a bat boy?” I wondered out loud.

“Sorry, I misspoke, you’d actually be a ball-boy on the first base line. Well, I guess it would be termed ball-person these days. Doesn’t have the same ring to it though, does it?” He smiled.

“O-kaay. So what’s a ball-person, then?” I asked, while plopping down on the sofa in front of the TV. I guess the Cubs would be playing shortly and there were some before-the-game chatterboxes droning on in the background.

“You’ve seen them. They sit on a chair just the other side of the dugout and chase down foul balls down the line.” He mansplained. I just rolled my eyes. I don’t really pay attention when we go to those things.

“Why would I want to do that? Daddy, you know I only go to those games to do something with you.” My parents are divorced and I get visits with my dad every other weekend. “I don’t want to spend the day chasing a stupid ball and getting all sweaty. God, I don’t even like baseball.”

He looked hurt, like in severe pain even. “Still? Not even just a little bit?

“Honestly, the only part I like about it is being with you, eating nachos and hot dogs, and wearing those cute pin-striped pajama outfit thingies.” I explained, while he was wincing.

He got down on his knees and looked me in my eyes. Yeah, I’m 14 and barely five foot, and he’s like 6’4” or something. “Please? It’ll be fun, I promise, and I’ll take you to Geno’s pizza after.” Omigosh, he was really begging, bringing out the big guns. He knows I can’t resist Geno’s.

So I just rolled my eyes. “Fine!” I said and he smiled and I giggled. “I would only do this for you. I love you, Daddy!” I leaned in and gave him a hug.

“That’s so great, honey!” He enthused . He kissed the top of my head then stood back up. He then pointed toward the TV. “The game’s almost on.” My eye-rolling was getting a work-out today.

“Fine I’ll go put it on.” He insists I wear a real Cub’s home jersey when we watch a game together. I refused to wear a hat though. He always wears one, though, so we have that part covered and I didn’t have to look like a dork.

The jerseys always looked like jammies to me, but they’re kinda cute - white with blue pinstripes and a little bearcub inside a big red ‘C’ on the chest. I don’t know where he ever found a pair that fit me, but he did, probably in the kid’s section of some sports shop place. I’m only five-foot and 90 pounds, so that had to be tricky. Well, maybe not; they have jerseys for dogs for pete’s sake. Just ask Missy here. I gave our Yorkie a hug. My mom put her foot down and told him he couldn’t get a dumb pit bull or he’d never see me again. Well, she didn’t use the word ‘dumb,’ but that’s the gist.

He hated when I wore a matching ribbon in my ponytail, so I didn’t do that very often, even though I thought it looked really pretty. But I was feeling fairly girly tonight, so I put it in when I put the jammies on.

“God, Kerry, do you have to wear that tonight? I thought we could run and get Chinese takeout before the game starts.”

“You didn’t say. Anyway, what difference does it make? I’d be going out in pajamas anyway.” I whined (after I rolled my eyes of course).

“Everyone already thinks you’re a girl.” He tried some kind of weird logic on me.

“Well. then, it won’t matter, will it?” It was his turn to roll his eyes and huff.

“Fine!” He gave in with a bit of a role reversal going on. I giggled to myself. “Go get in the car.”

He immediately tuned the car radio to the baseball station. I turned to him and whined, “Can’t we listen to music? The game hasn’t even started yet.”

He seemed to growl a little. “Fine. Pick what you want.”

“Cool! Thanks Daddy!” I clicked on my favorite preset. “Oooh, Taylor Swift!” I think I now know who I inherited my penchant for eye rolling from. I giggled. I started singing. “You need to calm down!” You tell him Taylor!

On the way into the restaurant I asked, “So, this ball-person thingy. Is it at an afternoon show or evening show?”

“Kerry, they’re called games, for god’s sake, and yours is during a saturday afternoon GAME.” He emphasized. “Why?”

“Well. I need to know how to dress and whether I need sunscreen, and…”

“Okay, I get it. You’ll wear your uniform with the shorts and no undersleeves. They’ll give you a cap, I think.” He said. Oh god, a stupid cap.

“I don’t wanna wear a stupid cap!” I whined.

He stayed silent on the matter as we reached the restaurant. He opened the door for me, then made a bee-line for the bar. Stupid bars. That’s why my parents got divorced in the first place. “Daddy, you’re not supposed to take me to bars.”

“This is a restaurant. I can’t help it they have a bar. Besides, this is where the TV is and where I order our takeout. Just don’t tell your mother okay?” He glared at me.

I held my hands up, “Okay! Jeez! But you know she’ll ask and you know I don’t lie.”

“Oh, for pete’s sake!” He growled while slamming a five dollar bill on the bar. The bar guy was already bringing him a beer. I guess dad comes here a lot.

The bar guy looked down at me and addressed my father. “Your daughter is really cute!” Then he asked me, “What’s your name sweetie?” Gosh, he was so nice!

“Kerry,” I blushed.

“And what does a pretty girl like to drink?” He asked.

“Um, can I get a cherry coke, Daddy?” My dad’s head was on the bar, then he lifted it and looked off the other way.

“Yeah, get her a cherry coke,” he hoarsely whispered. Why was he so red?

#

He downed his beer all in one go then ordered our food. I looked up at him. “Daddy, can we just eat here, over in a booth? It’s so pretty in here. Isn’t it just so cool?” The restaurant was really pretty and exotic with all kinds of Chinese paintings and sculptures and stuff; pretty hanging lamps; and there was even Chinese music playing softly in the background. As I said, cool! I mean, the carpeting was even red, can you beat that?

“I don’t think so, hon. The game starts in a half hour.” He seemed stern on this one.

But I tried again. “You really can’t miss the first act? You can prolly sit so you can see the TV; would that be alright?” I begged. I really wanted to stay and take in the exotic atmosphere.

He sighed. “I suppose so. And they’re called innings. What I don’t do for you, eh kiddo?”

“Thanks Daddy.” I hugged him around his waist. He was still on his stupid barstool after all. So we found a booth where he could see the TV. He’d rather watch some stupid game than talk to me anyway, I guess. I should be used to it by now. One time he had three tickets to a Cub’s show and he sat with his friend next to him and me in the row behind. Can you believe the nerve? Men! But, I guess the guy he was with was pretty nice, and kinda cute, too! He had a silly voice, though, kinda like Kermit the Frog. Funny, right?

The meal was so great; I got some noodle thing with shrimp and a soup called egg drop. I had to try it just cos of the name. It had these stringy things in it that Daddy said were the egg part. Weird, but yummy! The egg roll was really good, too. When we were done, dad gave me both fortune cookies. I slid one back to him. “You can’t give me your fortune! The gods would get confused!” I giggled and he actually grinned at me.

“Okay tiger, let’s go.” It’s weird when he calls me tiger. They’re pretty cute, I guess, but they’re also pretty mean and ferocious. I’m more of a kitty cat.

“Okay, Daddy. But, you know, I’m really more of a kitty cat.” I told him.

He sighed, then whispered, “Okay, kitten, let’s hit the road.” Ooh, now Kitten I like. That is like really cute.

I grabbed his hand on the way out. He tried to shake me off, but I wouldn’t let go. He’s really not touchy feely, is he? But, at least he opens the heavy doors for me.

So we got home and I put our leftovers in the fridge. He grabbed a beer and plopped down in front of the TV. I grabbed a Snapple and snuggled in next to him with my phone and earbuds. I could play games or listen to music or text my friends. I have two whole friends, both girls. My most ever, by two. Boys don’t seem to like me (hate me, more like, always pulling on my ponytail or something mean). But these two girls were in my algebra class and were always gasping at my A+ papers, so they wanted to study with me. We actually became good friends and do stuff together. Their parents won’t let us do sleepovers for some reason, but I guess that’s not the end of the world.

Algebra is really hard, but I told my guidance counselor I wanted to be a weather person and they said I need a lot of math for that. So I’m trying really hard and I ask a lot of questions. Everybody probably thinks I’m a real dummy, well, except for my two girlfriends, that is.

So, I texted Jen real quick
Kerry - hi J, Im @ my dad’s, how r u?
Jennifer - Hi K. tht’s cool, but I bet hes watching Cubs?
Kerry - lol, how’d u know?
Jennifer - my dad’s watching rite now 2! Lol
Kerry - So, whatcha doin?
Jennifer - texting u, duh!
Kerry - omg, u r so bad!

So we went on like that for about ten minutes. Then she realized we couldn’t study this weekend for our final test in algebra. She was freaking out.

Kerry - let’s get together Mon nite, wanna grp text Debs?
Jennifer - jeez, u know, we shd just start on grp text, u know? duh!
Kerry - rofl, I know!

So we settled that. The test wasn’t till next Friday anyways. So, I got Daddy another beer and snuggled back down to play a game, Farmville if you must know! It’s so fun!

Turns out there’s a ball game like every flipping day! So Saturday and Sunday, I would lose Daddy for a couple-three hours again. Oh well, I can still snuggle! But, first thing in the morning on the weekends he likes to go to the bakery for hard rolls and coffee and pick up a newspaper. Did you know they still make those? I know! He’s so old school. I do like the comics and the style sections, though - ooh, and the ads. And it’s fun to sit and flip pages and sigh and mutter and nosh and sip caffeine drinks. Really fun!

#

So I got up early so I could take a quick shower and do my hair before he just falls out of bed and is ready to go. Brat! I know I’m a boy, but jeez, I saw this one boy with such pretty, long, black eyelashes, so I thought I could do that too, with a little help! So, vive mascara et voila! I touch up my eyebrows, too, cos everything is just so blonde otherwise! Then I use some cherry chapstick (yes, it’s tinted) and I’m good to go. I like a high ponytail, otherwise my neck gets so hot and sweaty! I don’t mind my neck getting a little warm when my hair is all down and pretty and down to the middle of my back - it’s worth it!

So, I’m usually at the kitchen counter eating Cap’n Crunch or something, with a glass of orange juice when he comes crawling and growling out of his bear lair. Giggle. Five minutes later and we’re off. I like going for rides in his big Cadillac SUV. He has to help me up into it, but, whatever. He’s pretty rich. He owns a big construction company, so, yeah, money’s cool! Anyway, sometimes we talk, sometimes music (the stereo system is killer!). Either way is cool. And we always seem to stop off for food, and being Chicago, that’s always a delicious proposition!

I was wearing just a teal t-shirt and white cuffed shorts with pleats today, oh, and teal sandals. So, pretty unisex, really. I just think most boys dress so boring, or totally weird. So, I had my feet up on the dashboard and Daddy looks over and asks, “so, hon, do you have any sneakers?” Well, duh, I have multi ones and black and gold ones, and white with a pink puma on them!

“No plain white, huh? Or blue?” He asks. Nope. How boring! So he asks me if I want to go to Walmart and I love shopping so that was a no brainer! I went with the blue ones, duh. And they had a white puma on, so that was totally cool.

He took me over to the sporty clothing area, you know with team names and stuff. They had all the different kinds in the same area, but I happened to gravitate to the girl ones. I don’t know if he knew they were girl ones, but they just fit better and aren't so ugly baggy and stuff. So I picked out a red Indiana Fever, Caitlin Clark top. It was so cute! I think he actually did recognize her name and I thought his red face was gonna explode! Well, he’s the one who took me shopping. Not my fault!

I asked if I could go to the jewelry section - I knew he would not, could not let me go to the girls’ clothing section (Isn’t that a Dr. Seuss one?). Been there, tried that, didn’t buy the t-shirt! He seemed okay with jewelry, though.

“When the hell did your mother let you get your ears pierced!” He yell-whispered. Yikes.

I looked at him still holding up a pair to my ear. I said matter-of-factly, “On my last birthday, silly. It’s been like four months. You don’t notice anything, Daddy.”

“Oh, believe me, I do, and I don’t like it. You look like a girl.”

“So?” I said simply.

“So you’re a boy!” He reminded me.

“Daddy, what’s your point?” I swear, I wasn’t just yanking his chain; I really didn’t get the point. My mom’s a girl; my best friends are girls. They seem pretty cool to me.

He just growled, “let’s go!” and he grabbed my hand, but I kept hold of the cute earrings I had in my other hand. “You’re mother’s gonna get an earful!” Like I have - tee hee!

Apparently the blue tennies are for when I do the ball-girl, er - person thingy. I gotta watch that around Daddy - yikes! I looked wistfully at all the cute clothes as we walked by on our way to check-out. But it was Walmart, so no biggie. Jen and Debs and I troll the mall and go to real stores, so I’m good. Anyways, dad and I went to the self-checkout. I bet I can guess why; he gets embarrassed over the dumbest things. Boys can be so silly. So can Daddys.

There was a McDonald’s in the parking lot, so, on our way to the car I asked dad if I could get a sausage McGriddle. “We’re going to the bakery for hard rolls.” He says.

“But McGriddles are sooo good! Have you ever had ‘em?” I implored.

I may make him crazy, but I still have him wrapped around my middle finger - oops, little finger - freudian slip. Giggle. We went through the drive-thru and I got my yummy breakfast. He didn’t get anything, not even a hash browns, and their McGriddles are to die for, too! Oh, dur, he did get a coffee, I forgot. Doesn’t really count, though, does it?

When we got home, I immediately put on my Caitlin Clark top and changed to jeans shorts. Put on my red sandals, too. I have to say, I was looking pretty girly, especially with my new earrings. But, we weren’t going anywhere else today, I don’t think, so he doesn’t need to freak out.

I went down to the condo swimming pool after lunch, which was an italian beef sandwich, yum! They wouldn’t let me swim unless I put on a swimsuit! I don’t have one! So, how dumb is their stupid rule? My parents won’t let me wear a girls’ one and I surely won’t wear an ugly boy’s one, so I was at an impasse. Oh, I just realized I could get one of those speedo things and wear my rash guard top. Wow, perfect solution. But, we’ll have to go shopping again. At least it’ll be in the boys section this time, so Daddy won’t have to have a conniption.

Turns out the store had full-body speedo suits, kinda like they have in the olympics. Daddy never thought of that - nor did I, for that matter. I couldn’t wait to hit the pool after dinner. On our way back from buying my Speedo, we went to Popeye’s chicken. I got a spicy breast and a red beans and rice. OMG, I love their stuff. Dad said, “whaddya wanna go to a chain for? This is Chicago!”

I told him, “I’m a kid, whaddya want from me?” Giggle.

After dinner I put my suit on and covered up with my white shorts. I grabbed a towel and skipped out to dad, who was playing a video game in the living room. “Okay, Daddy, I’m ready!” I didn’t need my rash guard this late in the day, but I did need my Daddy to escort me, so…

“Just a sec hon. Lemme get to the next level, then we can go.” He never lifted his eyes, while I rolled mine for the tenth time today.

So, I just sat on the edge of the couch and bided my time, glancing at the screen now and then, looking at my phone, while he was killing stuff. When he was done, he finally looked at me. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you look like a girl! What the hell?”

“I can’t help it! Jeez, why do you hate me so bad?” I began crying.

He pulled me in for a hug. “Shhhh, I don’t hate you, kitten. It’s just…you really look like a girl; I mean, for real, it’s crazy like.”

I responded kinda meanly, “wait’ll you see when I take my shorts off.” I couldn’t help but giggle.

He just lifted both his hands and ran them through his hair. He practically choked. “Okay, you got your towel?”

“Right here. Aren’t you gonna swim?”

All he could say was, “Ummmm.”

“Do you know how to braid hair, Daddy?” Still not yanking his chain, I swear. “It keeps my hair nicer that way.” He just shook his head. “I’ll ask someone at the pool, I guess.”

He gently grabbed the back of my head and led me to the door. “C’mon, let’s get you to the pool.” He said, still shaking his head.

It was cool, cos there was another girl there (oops, I did it again, dad’s gonna kill me), her name is Mikhaela, so we could braid each other’s hair. She was pretty fun. We goofed around for an hour and Daddy chatted to a woman the whole time. What a bad boy! Sometimes they would both look over at us and dad would be blushing and nodding and stuff. What’s up with that?

#

Anyways, that was super fun and we went back up to our condo. It’s like on the tenth floor, so I have to get myself really dry before getting in the elevator. I hopped in the shower to get rid of the chlorine and pee (eeew!) and washed and conditioned my hair again. I thought I’d goof around so I curled my hair and put my little bit of makeup back on again. Daddy’s gonna flip, but, at the mall last week I got some super cute Hello Kitty jammies - pink top, teal bottoms - a girl’s gotta do…giggle. I had enough of cowboys, spacemen and sports goofs when I was little - god, I hated those pajamas!

So I come skipping out with those cute jammies on and sing-song, “Daddy, will you play Mario Kart with me? Or maybe even a board game (horrors! So, I like board games)?”
He’s back playing his shoot-em-up again and just glances up, pauses the game and drops the controller. Then he fell back onto the sofa. I think I may have actually killed him this time. So, I run up to him, screaming, “Daddy, are you okay? Daddy?” I jump on the sofa and grab onto him, crying. But his face was placid. Weird. He just leans over and starts tickling me until my tears stop and I’m giggling and out of breath.

“Yes, we can play Mario Kart, Kitten.”

“Yay!” I guess I was pretty happy with that outcome. But that was pretty mean of him to play dead.

We played four games and each won two. I like to stop when things are even, I don’t like anybody to be sad. Then I had to ask, “Daddy, I know it’s hot out, but can I have a hot chocolate?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have ice cream?” He retorts.

I had to think on that one. “Why can’t I have both?”

“Hmmm… Ok-aay, let’s both have both!” and I had to skip into the kitchen singing ‘both-a-both, both-a-both! Yes, I’m weird, and act like a five-year-old sometimes, but I’m also getting ice cream and hot chocolate, so there!

So, anyways, as fun as that was, I had to go back home to my mom and be bored out of my skull, until Jen and Debs came over with like ten magazines. They were all pretty girly. Did they think I was a girl? I thought they knew. Not that I’m complaining. It’s way better than dad’s sports and car magazines. I mean, waaay better! But they were talking about the cute boys and I don’t even know. I just know boys are gross and girls get to do all the cool stuff. So, I’m trying to adjust my mind to find the attraction, but that’s hard to do, when the feelings don’t just come. I can appreciate a pretty girl, mainly because I’m jealous I think. I’d like to be able to look that way without getting flak from dad all the time. Mom doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, as long as I get good grades and stay out of trouble, I’m golden.

Since I do like to dress girly and wear at least a little makeup, I really liked a lot about those magazines, well, pretty much everything except the parts about boys. I mean, I’m only fourteen, so why do I have to be thinking about that stuff already? I don’t want Jen and Debs to think I’m weird though, so I’m gonna try my best to see something good in those boys. I mean, like at school, a lot of boys are just gross, but there are some that are nice and dress nice and wear their hair cute - cute for a boy that is. so, maybe this won’t be too hard.

So, anyways, we all aced our algebra tests and got straight A’s, so that was cool, and now school is out for the summer. In the summer, I get to spend two whole weeks at my dad’s house and I think he’s got like a camping trip in mind, or some such nonsense. Gotta nix that one in a hurry. But first is a weekend with him where I have to be the ball-girl, er… person at that ball game thingy. When you’re fairly girly, that’s really not the kind of ball you want to be invited to.

So Daddy picked me up at mom’s house for the weekend and we went to a Mexican restaurant that had a bar, of course. He’ll never learn. “What are you wearing? You’re killing me here.”

“Daddy, it’s just shorts and a top, what’s wrong with it?” I asked.

“It’s the wrong colors, that’s what’s wrong with it.” He averred.

“How can colors be wrong? What the heck does that even mean?” I asked him. “Does this have to do with your baseball stuff?”

“Of course not, it’s just that… well, boys don’t wear, I don’t even know what that one color is.” He paused. I told him it’s teal and I’ve seen sports teams with that color. “Well, not with tiny sleeves that look so dainty, and teamed with pink! You look like a Barbie.” What’s wrong with Barbie - now he’s treading on thin ice! “And those sandals, for god’s sake.” Now what’s wrong with my sandals? They’re teal, too, with pretty gems on them. I think they’re cute.

“Okay, Daddy, Are you gonna be all over me about my clothes and my colors all summer? So I like different colors than you do, I really don’t know why you don’t just give it up, I’m not all of a sudden gonna go all black and gray and boring. I suppose you would like me to go all goth or something.” I temporized.

“Well, that would be an improvement, except for all the piercings and tattoos those whack jobs have.” He went on, being pretty jerky, truth be told.

“You’re being mean! I know a couple goths and they’re very nice. They even let me sit with them at lunch, before Debbie and Jennifer came into my life, that is. I kinda feel bad for abandoning them the first opportunity I got, but I’m not a goth, so… and they probably don’t even care. Anyway…” I lost my train of thought. “What were we talking about again? Just, could you give me a break? I’m gonna be chasing a ball around for you tomorrow, after all; you could be nice, just this once.”

Dad growled and ran his hands through his hair. He’s gonna go bald at this rate. Why can’t he just chill out? He said, “C’mon, let’s just go get a table.” Finally, I can get away from the stupid bar. If he has to drink, why can’t he just do it at home? Misery loves company, or something?

#

“Daddy, are you miserable?” I asked, really wanting an answer to that question.

“What? No. why would you ask that?” He asked with his eyes all squinchy.

“Because you’re always in a bar. Doesn’t seem like that’s where happy people would gather together.” I pointed out.

“Oh, um, no, I think it’s probably just the only way I know how to be sociable. Never really learned another way from my father.” He tried.

“I didn’t learn from you. I hate bars.”

“Well, you’re not exactly a normal son, are you?” He blurted. Ouch. Though it’s true enough, I suppose.

“Fair point,” I offered. I smiled at a cute boy as we got to our booth. Ooh, I guess my practice is paying off. We sat down. “Um, daddy, I know this is gonna sound weird, but why don’t you just pretend I’m you’re daughter and we’ll see how that goes? Maybe a change in perspective will help and you wouldn’t get so crazy mad all the time.”

He gave a grimace, then he said, “You really don’t want to do that ball… person thing, do you?”

I said, “Well, no, but I’ll totally do it for you. I mean, I couldn’t even catch a cold if I tried, but I’m willing to give it a go. It could be fun.” I grinned, smoothing a lock of hair behind my ear. He does a lot for me, it’s the least I could do. Plus, at least he pays me some attention; mom barely even notices I’m around.

I glanced over at that boy and he was totally looking at me; he turned away very quickly, though, and I thought I could see his face flush a little. How cute. Daddy then said, “Dammit, there’s no hot sauce on the table.”

Kerry to the rescue, I said, “don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll get you some.” I got up and made my way to the table with the cute boy. I looked him in the eye and asked, “are you using your hot sauce? My Daddy’s having a conniption.” I grinned at him and he smiled back. God, even his smile is cute. I’ve been hanging around with Jen and Debs too much! I tucked another plait of hair behind my ear - must be a nervous tick; what else could it be?

The boy’s eyes went wide and he said, “um, yeah, no, we’re not using it.” He looked at his parents and I followed his eyes and they nodded that it was okay. “Here, we have two different kinds even; you can have them both.” He reached them out to me and I grabbed them, brushing his hand. A jolt of electricity went through me and his eyes went even wider and his face even redder.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, um…” He paused.

“Kerry,” I offered in return.

“You’re welcome Kerri. I’m Steven, um, Steve.” He was looking a bit flustered and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well, thanks again, Steven,” I smiled.

Back at the table, I crowed, “Here’s your hot sauce Daddy.”

“Since when do you flirt with boys?” Dad asked.

“Daddy, I’m fourteen. And I wasn’t flirting!” Was I?

“I saw you!” He whisper-growled.

“Oh my god, what’s the big deal? It’s not like I’m going to marry him. Yet!” I grinned.

“But, you’re a…” He choked. “You’re my…” He choked again and put his hand over his eyes.

“Daddy, we agreed!” I whined.

“Yes, yes, I know, just… give me a break, huh? It’s gonna take a minute to get used to this, alright?” He tried, and he really was trying. I could tell it was an effort with him, but he brought himself up short a couple times in the last thirty seconds. That was pretty cool.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I said. And dinner was so good. I got a chile relleno - a bit spicy, but totally yummy - and a taco. Didn’t need any of that hot sauce, that’s for sure. I glanced at the boy again and he quickly glanced away again. Is he into me, or what? What’s wrong with him?

Dad finished his beer and asked, “You ready to go Ker?”

“Um, yeah, I guess so.” I glanced at the boy again. “Yeah, let’s do it!” As we began to walk out I said to the boy, “Bye, Steven!” And gave him a little finger wave.

I thought he would swallow his tongue, but he managed to eke out, “Um, bye Kerri! See ya ‘round.” Then he coughed up his Coke. I couldn’t help but giggle again. He was so funny, and cute! I need to give Jen and Debs a piece of my mind. What have they done to me?

#

I thought I’d test dad when we got home. I had brought a nightie with, just in case I got the chance to wear it, and now I was taking that chance. It was in my favorite color - teal, and had pretty, large coral flowers all over it. No mistaking that for boys’ pajamas. I loved nighties. They’re so comfortable, and usually adorable. I entered the living room where dad was playing one of his games. “Hey Daddy, whatcha playin’?” I asked and plopped down next to him.

He startled, then paused his game, looking me over. “Um, Assassin’s Creed,” he offered. “Valhalla.” As if I know what that means.

“What’s ‘Valhalla?’” I asked.

“It’s like heaven, in Norse mythology.” He answered.

“Oh. Is it fun? Can I try?” It really looked pretty cool.

“Um, sure, here.” He handed me his controller. “It’s only for one player, but you can try it if you want.”

“Oh. No, that’s alright. I really wanted to play something with you, the both of us. Do you have anything other than MarioKart that’s for two players?” I asked.

He said, “Well, I do actually have Fortnite. You might like it. Just let me get past this level real quick. You wanna go make a snack while I finish up?”

He had cold cuts and cheese so I made us some finger sandwiches and chopped up some lettuce for on them - easier to eat that way. Plus, that’s the way Subway does it, and they’re really good, so… I placed the plate of sandwiches on the coffee table and leaned back, waiting for dad to finish his game. He paused it and looked at me.

“Wow, that’s a great looking plate! You’re going to make someone a great wife some day!” He enthused.

“Wife?” I spluttered.

“Well, yeah, you told me to treat you like a girl, so, that’s what I would say, yeah.” He tried.

I said, “Oh, no, you just scared me, like, I’m only fourteen - you freaked me out! That’s really cool of you to say that, though. Thanks. So, yeah, on the roast beef I used a little horseradish sauce and on the ham I used some Dijon mustard. Try one.” I smiled expectantly.

He bit into a roast beef and his eyes went wide. “Wow, that’s really delicious. I woulda just put meat and cheese on a slice of bread and called it good.”

“Yes, I know. You’re such a barbarian.” I teased. “By the way, we should get you some storage containers, cos your stuff is gonna go bad leaving it in the bags.” He just nodded and took another bite, letting his eyes flutter with the flavor of bliss.

So, we played Fortnite for a couple hours, and it was actually pretty fun. Then we hit the sack. The next day, I would have to chase a ball around Wrigley Field. So looking forward to that - not!

In the morning, I took a shower and washed and conditioned my hair. If I was going to be on display in front of 40,000 people, I wanted to look good. I blew my hair dry, nice and fluffy and pretty, even though I’d probably have to wear a dumb hat. I put it up in a high ponytail and tied it with a wide blue ribbon to match the baseball jammies I would have to wear. I put on the shorts version of the outfit and then my new blue shoes. A little mascara and some lip gloss and I was ready to go.

When I entered the kitchen, dad said, “Wow, you look really cute!”

“Thanks Daddy!” I smiled and reveled in his new attitude. He seemed a lot happier not harping on me all the time. I was super happy about that, too.

“Okay, kitten, let’s run and get the rolls and a paper. Do you need McDonald’s again?”

“No, Daddy, the rolls are fine, but maybe an apple fritter too?” I asked.

“Sure. Anything else, your highness?” He teased. At least, I hoped he was teasing.

I put on my best British accent, “Perhaps some lox and bagels as well, my dear father.”

He squinched his face. “Do you even like lox?” He asked.

“Of course not, I was just being silly. Cream cheese will be fine.” I giggled. “What are lox anyway?” He told me they were salmon and I about gagged. Why would anybody do that to a perfectly good bagel? Eeew!

So we did our weekend morning ritual and I really did get a bagel. Thank goodness his toaster has a bagel setting or I would have been really messed up. I did the crossword puzzle and the jumble while Daddy read his beloved sports pages. They were pretty hard, being a Saturday, so I then read the comics to untwist my brain. ‘The Far Side’ was pretty funny today.

Dad put down his paper and took one last swig of his coffee before looking over at me and asking, “You wanna play a game before we go? Or, is there something else you had in mind?” Gah, the ball-girl thingy!

“I’d like to play a game, I think, but maybe you can roll me some balls so I can practice before I make a fool out of myself in front of a million people?” I asked with a little trepidation.

“Sure, I’ve got your glove in the closet here.” He said with a grin.

“I have a glove? A baseball glove?” I’m not a total baseball idiot. I know they use gloves. That ball would really hurt, otherwise.

“Yeah, I got it several years ago when hope was springing that you’d get into sports, but that obviously didn’t happen.” He lamented

“I’m sorry Daddy.” I sighed and hugged his belly.

“Oh, don’t be sorry, kitten, you’re your own person and you like different things, and that’s okay.” It is? “Of course it is. It took some adjusting, but I’m finally starting to get the hang of it.” He grinned and I squeezed him some more.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I whispered.

He said, “Hey, let’s go toss that ball and we’ll take off early. They have great restaurants near the ball park.”

The glove still was a little big on me, I don’t know how a younger me could ever have managed it - I still can’t squeeze it shut. But, first thing dad does is toss me a ball underhanded. I thought we were gonna roll it! As it got close, I cringed and shied away and it went bouncing on by. “Why’d you throw it at me?” I whined.

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t think.” He admitted. Then he started rolling them faster and faster until I got semi-okay at stopping them. One rolled up my arm and almost hit me in the face and I was not well pleased.

“Daddy, maybe this is a bad idea. Do you think I can really do this?” I whined some more.

So he said, “You’ll be fine. If a ball is in the air, just stay away from it, and if it’s rolling super fast, just let it go on by - the right-fielder will get it, okay?”

“If you say so.” I conceded and ‘threw’ the ball back to him - bounced it, more like. “Maybe we should just go and get this over with.”

#

So we went. There was a Mexican restaurant catty-corner from the ballpark and that’s where we went. Omigod, they used strips of steak and they just heated up tortillas on this giant griddle thingy. Also, instead of regular taco sauce, they used pico de gallo. Oh my frickin’ dear lord, those tacos were the best things ever! No more Taco Bell for me! Okay, I still love Taco Bell, they’re just different, so that’s cool.

As we made our way back across the street, I began to shake. I really didn’t want to do this, but I did look really cute in my Cubs pajamas and blue shoes. I used a little Cubs string bag for a pseudo-purse and made my way to the restroom to check myself in the mirror and have a pee. Guys kept looking at me funny and one said, “You’ve got the wrong toilets, sweetie.” I just said ‘oh,’ turned red, and scurried out.

I went and whined to my dad. “That guy said I was in the wrong bathroom, Daddy. What should I do?”

He looked around and furrowed his brow in thought. “I guess you just use the ladies. I mean, you look like a girl anyway, you should be completely fine there. Just don’t dawdle, okay? I’ll wait for you right here.”

I did my business and checked my face and outfit in the mirror. Then I finally made my way back out to the concourse. There was Daddy, watching the door for me. I had to whine again. “Oh my god, that line was so long, I thought I was gonna pee my pants. Why are lines to the ladies’ room always longer?”

“Did you have any trouble in there?” He asked.

“No, they were really nice and told me how cute I look.” I said.

“Well, that’s true enough. You do look adorable. So, let’s find somebody in charge so we can get you down on the field. I have a box seat right behind where you’ll be, in case you have any questions or you need anything, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks Daddy.”

So, dad found this woman that led us to a man that got me all set up at the end of the Cubs dugout. There’s a screen/fence thingy at the end, so I don’t have to worry about a ‘screaming liner,’ as the guy said. That still made me nervous cos that really sounded scary. He said that when I get a ball, I just roll it toward the dugout steps, so that didn’t sound too hard. Oh! And I don’t have to wear a stupid hat! They had a cute visor. Yay me!

So I got my sunscreen out of my string bag and applied it, cos it was really sunny, then grabbed my sunglasses. I touched up my lip gloss and I was ready to go. Daddy came to the wall and chatted with me for a few minutes. He said, “The wind’s blowing out, so this should be a hell of a game.”

“Mmkay.” Whatever.

Just before the game started, the loud speaker guy says, “...and let’s hear it for our ball-girl today, Miss Kerry Miller!” I blushed as the crowd gave a smattering of cheers. I looked into the stands and I think Daddy was blushing, too. But, then I heard him say, “That’s my girl!” With a big smile. That made me all warm and fuzzy.

I got my first chance in the first inning. A ball was tapped in my direction, not too hard, and I kinda knocked it down. I then tried to get it to the front of the dugout by throwing it overhand for some reason. The ball flipped out of my hand right into the dugout! A really cute Cubs guy caught the ball and said to me, “You may want to roll them underhand, sweetie.”

I blushed and said, “Yes sir, sorry!” So I was really careful after that and then it became kinda fun. The players would talk to me and they were so nice! In the seventh inning, one of those ‘screaming liners’ came my direction and I screamed. Now I know why they call them that. You wouldn’t believe, though. Daddy caught that ball! I know! He came to the wall and told me to have the players sign it. So I asked the one guy who talked to me the most, and he passed it around. It came back to me in the eighth inning with writing all over it. So that was cool. I handed it to Daddy for safe-keeping - he said he was going to put it on the mantel. Whatever a mantel is, sounds good to me. In memory of a scream! And of my day on the field at Wrigley. I guess that’s kinda cool.

When the game was over, a security guy lifted me over the wall so I could leave with my dad. On our way out, dad told me how proud he was of me. That’s the first time he’s ever said that! It felt really good, but I hoped I wouldn’t have to do anything like that again, even if it did make him proud. Maybe there’s something else I could do to make him proud of me? I’ll have to think on that.

#

So, he took me to Geno’s as promised and we got a deep dish pizza that was sooo amazing! Daddy only got one beer, so I guess he was okay to drive. He makes me nervous sometimes. I got to thinking about having to go to the ladies’ room and then the announcer telling the crowd I was a girl. All the players and other people being so nice to me and Daddy being proud and saying I was cute and all that stuff. So, I asked him, “Daddy? Do you think I’m a girl?”

“Yes.” He said immediately with a mouth full of yummy pizza. I couldn’t help but giggle.

I said, “But what about those boy bits down below, you know what I mean?”

He swallowed, then answered me, “Yes, I know what you mean. But, apparently, that’s not what decides what you are. Who you are. You’ve taught me that over the years and I’ve finally come to terms with it. You know, I’ve talked to your mother?” I shook my head and he went on. “Yeah, and she says you’ve been seeing a psychologist? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I was embarrassed, I guess. I started going because of the divorce. You know, I was really sad about it. I get it now, but something came up in the sessions that I wasn’t expecting. She thinks I’m a girl, too.” He nodded.

“Yes, and there’s things we’re suppose to do to support you and if you want to transition, you know what that means?” I nodded with a mouthful of pizza. “Do you want to transition?”

“Yes, Daddy. I mean, it’s like I’m already a girl, but I don’t want to get all big and hairy with a deep voice, you know, like you? I really don’t want that, so…” I tried to explain.

“Yeah, I get it, I think, your mother explained it to me. And apparently my insurance will cover all that stuff, all the transition medications and therapy and all that. So, you’re good to get going on that?” He asked, looking only slightly uncomfortable.

“Yes please, Daddy.”

He said, “I think it’s great, that you can so unapologetically just be who you are and reach for the brass ring.” Whatever that means, it’s probably a good thing, because he looks happy. “Just keep on being you and I’ll be behind you 100%.”

“Thanks Daddy.”

“I’m proud of you,” He said, and I couldn’t stop the tears.

The End

 

Love @ Second Sight A Transgender Romance Short Story By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 6,600 Image from the Public Domain

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Warning: Contains mild sexual content and language
 

Amber

This was the conversation I never wanted to have. God, I didn’t want to hurt him. But since our wedding night, the voices in my head and all my spirit animals have been getting louder and stronger and more insistent. He was still on the sofa where we were watching Dancing with the Stars (well, he was watching DWTS and managing his normal animated commentary on the dresses and shoes, hands flying, while my mind was on another planet). He had washed out the gel he used to slick back his long auburn hair and it was falling in waves over his shoulder and down his back. I shuddered. I finally got up and went to the kitchen to make us each a G&T and clear my mind and, not least of all, buy some time.

God, I’d had six months to figure out what to say, why had nothing come to me? Because I adore him. How can I tell him that I’m not altogether physically attracted to him, at least with his clothes off? He doesn’t get my motor going, as my mom used to say. When we’d met, I was somewhat attracted by his beauty. Okay, quite attracted. His beautiful, long auburn hair. His mesmerizing green eyes rimmed by gorgeous long lashes. He’s even a few inches shorter than me, and I’m only 5’7”. He should have been a girl. He’s so sweet and even feminine. His name is Madison and I totally thought he was a girl, dressed way too masculinely for her beauty. It was just a shirt and slacks, but I’m what they call a lipstick lesbian, and I prefer my partner to be the same. No, I require it. At least I do now. Yes, but I didn’t used to.

That’s because I was trying to live up to the expectations of my conservative parents. Their world is binary; black and white; not even a touch of gray that I could see. So, I saw Madison as the best of all possible worlds (my apologies to Voltaire), where I could make both myself and my parents happy. I dearly hope I considered Madison’s interests and happiness as well. I really think I did, because I knew he was smitten with me, so what could be better than giving myself to him?

Ugh! I suppose telling him the truth rather than a lie. That would have been the noble way. The proper, ethical way. But, I was a coward. He was my beard, not that he had one to speak of. God, his skin is so beautiful. And soft! Why can’t I be attracted to those less-than-feminine bits, too. The flat chest, slim hips, and that godawful dangling bit between his legs. I’m sorry, but it just grosses me out. Not that I see it very often, but I know it’s there. We’ve only had sex once since our wedding night and the aforementioned appendage was quite small, some would think it cute (I guess you could think of it as one of those cute little monsters on the Muppets or something), and it took quite an effort to get it to stand up on its own. I guess I don’t get his motor running, either. Oh my god, we’re doomed!

So I finished making the G&Ts and turned to make my way back to the sofa, where Madison was sitting with his legs tucked beneath him, still rapt with the dancing. He was swaying with the music and his hands were going and the smile on his face was just so…contented. How can I do this to him? He’s so damned happy, the lucky bitch! I giggled to myself and he turned his head. Somehow, his smile got even broader and he looked like an angel with his halo of beautiful brown and red hair swinging into his soft lips, where he had to pull it out with an oh-so-feminine gesture and tuck it behind his ear. His perfect, diamond-studded, ear. God, he’s beautiful! I was feeling a bit moist down below, but I knew that as soon as he took his clothes off I would quickly dry up. Sigh.

“Hi sweetie, I made us a coupla drinks. Hope you’re thirsty - they’re half gin!” His mouth went into an “O” because he knew this meant we were going to talk about something uncomfortable. Little did he know. Uncomfortable has become impossible. But a small smile returned to his face as he thanked me, delicately taking the glass from me and taking a little sip, looking up at me through those amazing lashes. He set his drink down on the coaster and turned toward me, scootching his perky butt just a bit to get the right angle. Then he put his elbow on the back of the couch and leaned his head against his palm.

With an earnest expression he said, “so, what’s up, girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend? I’m your wife, silly!” I giggled.

“I kno-o-ow,” he dragged out so cutely. “It’s just what I say when I’m about to dish with my girlies!”

“You are too cute!” I hopped onto the sofa in front of her and leaned in for a little peck on the lips. I could feel my pelvic region tingle and flex again as the softness…but, I digress.

Oh hell, I just realized I called Madison her. Sure, it was only in my head, but I guess I should tell you anyway…I pretend; There, I said it; I fantasize that Madison is a girl and the fact is, SHE makes it so easy. Until she takes off her clothes, that is. Even now, in her skinny jeans and silky-flowy amber-colored button-down blouse (she says she bought it for me, isn’t that sweet? Cuz my name is Amber, duh!) she’s just so damned feminine! Not that I’m complaining. I love it, I really do. In fact, I wouldn’t have her any other way, but what about the damned bedroom? Gahh!

“So, what’s up?” She prodded as I continued to stare into her eyes.

I shook my head to clear my jumbled, misty mind. “Sorry. Umm. Yeah. So, sweetie. The thing is…This is really hard to say. First of all, let me say I love you, I totally love you!” (Well, almost totally).

“Well, that’s good, considering we’re married and we share a bed and all.” She tilted her head and smiled, continuing, “but that’s not the hard part, I’m guessing.”

“Funny you should mention the bed.” I pushed on. “God, this is so messed up. I’m so sorry!” The tears were starting.

“Sweetie.” She whispered in her soft, lilting, totally sexy voice. “Nothing can be that bad. Unless you were dying.” She giggled. “Oh my god, you’re dying!” She reached in for a hug, a look of terror on her angelic face. God, nothing worse that a terror-stricken angel, is there? I was getting sick to my stomach.

As the tears continued to fall, I pushed on. “No, baby, I’m not dying, it’s, maybe worse.”

“Worse? How could…?”

I cut her off so I could get through this hell. “I’ve lied to you. I love you, Very much. But our entire relationship is built on a lie. You see, I’m gay…I’m a lesbian; a fully paid up, raging lezzie! I’m so sorry! Please don’t hate me.”

What came next was a bit unexpected. She smiled, and her body seemed to totally relax. Then she began giggling as she leaned into me just a bit, and whispered. “Of course you’re Sapphic,” she reached up and gently stroked my cheek, “because I’m a girl!” She began laughing hysterically, but managed to squeak out, “well, a woman seeing as how I’m turning 23 next week, then I’ll be an old lady, like you!” She practically fell on the floor she was laughing so hard and struggling to breathe.

Then she did. She nearly hit her head on the coffee table as she fell over limp and thumped onto the floor. She was out cold.

I don’t know how long I was out, but it didn’t matter. It gave my subconscious plenty of time to come to terms with the fact that both our biggest secrets were finally out. I’m a girl and she’s a lesbian! Or a Sapphic, whatever. How perfect is that? If I could giggle while I was passed out, I would. Then I rolled my eyes. I’m so weird, I thought to myself. Then I giggled, unconsciously, again.

I can totally imagine what Amber has been going through for the past year or three, because I’ve been going through essentially the same thing. We each had this massive secret that we were terrified of telling the other. And we got married anyway. How in the world did that happen? I had been on puberty blockers for six years already. I was going to start on estrogen as soon as I turned 16, but my parents made that all but impossible, then I met Amber.

Not that I had changed my mind or anything. I still totally wanted my girl puberty and my girl body, but I also wanted Amber in my life, and she thought I was a boy, I think. So I put my transition on hold. But it’s been getting very hard lately. I wanted so much to have a beautiful female body like Amber’s. She’s so perfect.

I started coming around and I could hear Amber frantically trying to wake me up. “Madison! Maddie, wake up! Oh my god, I killed her!”

I felt another slap on my face. “Ow! No, I’m alive, stop that!” Then I started giggling and I sat up quickly to hug her. I grabbed her face. “I need you to do something for me.” She looked at me quizzically.

Expectantly, she whispered, “anything sweetie, you name it.”

“Ask me to marry you.” I feigned nervousness. “Please?”

“What? Why? I already asked you once.” God, she could be too logical sometimes.

“No. Just…You asked a boy to marry you. I want you to ask a girl to marry you.”

She looked serious for a moment. “For your information, darling, I asked you to marry me because you were so girly. You are so girly!” Then she smiled. “But, your wish is my command my dear lady. Madison Leslie Davis, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Oh my god, that’s sounds so amazing! I’m gonna be a wife! I mean yes! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” I began to cry and she leant down to kiss me. Hard. And we fell to the floor giggling with her on top of me. “So, do you like being the bottom?” She gave me a sly wink. Nobody penned a bespoke song for this moment, so Katy Perry sang I Kissed a Girl while we made out.

I gasped. “Why, whatever do you mean, Mrs. Davis?”

“I mean this, Mrs. Davis,” she said, as she fully mounted me and practically devoured me.

I tried to speak while she kissed every part of my neck and face. “I want a big wedding.” I enthused. “Every girl dreams of a big, white wedding! I want a gorgeous dress with lace, and flowers in my hair. We could have it outside. Somewhere in the mountains, maybe. Ooh, the Adirondacks, we could have it in the Adirondacks on the shores of Lake Ozonia or something, with the trees changing to gold, and…” She put her hand over my mouth. I guess I was rambling.

“Take a breath, sweetie.” She smiled.

I took a breath and giggled. “Sorry. I do tend to get carried away.”

“That’s okay.” She assured me. “And I want all that, too, but I kinda gotta wrap my mind around all this. I mean, just five minutes ago you were my ‘husband’.” She used air quotes and I giggled. “Now, I’m gonna have a wife, and that’s so wonderful, and…” She was rambling now. “Okay. My mind is wrapped.”

“In pretty paper?” I blurted.

“You’re so silly.” She gave me a peck on the lips. “I’m in. I mean, this is so awesome! Should we go to dinner to talk about it? I’m kinda hungry.”

“I would love that.” I smiled.

“Okay. Good. Let’s go.” She began to tug me up off the floor. “I think this calls for a pizza at Giuseppe’s, don’t you?”

“Sounds awesome, but I need to change first.” I looked toward the bedroom.

“What? Why? You look fine; you look adorable.” She kissed me again.

“No.” I pressed. “I look like a boy.” I spread my arms out to my sides and looked down.

“Sweetie. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you could never pass for a boy.” She looked at me bemused as I blushingly looked at my long, manicured nails with glistening clear polish.

I sat on the couch to settle myself. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I began crying again.

“God, you’re such a girl! Okay, go get changed. Wait! We have to get you something to wear. But, you’re so much smaller than me. What... oh heck, I bet we could find something that fits you.”

The restaurant was dark and flickering with romantic candlelight. Madison was excited to be wearing girls’ clothes and I was quite excited too. We were dressed casually, because well, Giuseppe’s was casual. She had on a black leather miniskirt with a crimson or maroon or burgundy (I get the colors mixed up) silky top. I don’t know why I had kept them, because I hadn’t worn them in several many years. The sad truth is I didn’t fit in them anymore and maybe I never wanted to admit that. But they fit Madison perfectly and she looked adorable in them. Her silver and ruby earrings set off her face beautifully and I was falling in love all over again. And she’s a girl! How great is that?

But how much of a girl is she wanting to be? Just dressing up is probably not going to be enough for me. I need the bedroom to sing with lust. I need my girl to have breasts to ogle and fondle, and gorgeous labia instead of that sack of flesh that hangs between boys' thighs (shudder). Lips to penetrate with an exploratory tongue and a little clitty to flick with lingual craving.

We ordered our wine, I a merlot and she a chianti. She says she likes to be authentic to the cuisine, another thing I love about her. Her Chianti came in a little fiasco, the straw basket, with wax covering the cork. It was so cute, I was regretting my choice. We each took a sip of wine, me to gather my courage to speak. I gathered myself as if to spring. “So, Maddie, how far do you intend to go, now that you’re free to be yourself. I mean, do you expect to have surgery, hormones, what?

She didn’t need time to think as if she’d been waiting for this question her entire life. “I intend to go all the way; I have done since I was a little girl, about three years old. I was tempted a few times to delete that dangling participle myself, had the scissors out and everything. I never intended to stet the damned thing.” She’s an editor at a big women’s magazine and that was a pretty impressive editorial pun. I giggled.

“So, you intended to make clipart out of it.” I continued the punfest with a deadpan expression.

She laughed the most beautiful, musical laugh. “Something like that,” she said. “But, I don’t think it would have been very artistic, though. I mean a five-year-old with scissors can be a dangerous proposition. I hope to get the most beautiful vagina for you, and I would love for the clitty to be functional. If it’s not, I can live with that, because it’s more important to live an authentic life than an explosively sexual one. Those are my thoughts on the matter, at least.

I looked at her sadly. “I can’t imagine not feeling anything down there. It feels so wonderful. We’ll find you a surgeon that really knows what she’s doing. You’re selfless enough, we don’t need you to be sexless as well.” She just shrugged.

“It’s just not as high on my list of priorities. I just want to be a woman, your woman, and for the world to treat me as such. It’s been a nightmare pretending to be a boy.” She earnestly pointed out with sad eyes.

“Well, you’re not going to win any Academy Awards for your portrayal. You’re pretty girly, you know?” I told her.

“Am I? She said. It’s very kind of you to say so, but I really thought I was butching it up!” Her smile was back as she took another sip of her Chianti. I unconsciously mirrored her with my Merlot.

“Well, I suppose in a sense you looked quite lesbian, with your long, slicked-back hair, but not as butch as motorcycle leathers and Ms. buzz cut over there.” I nodded my head to the corner, where another pair of women were having an animated conversation, but they over steins of beer.

“Well, I never wanted to be butch. I’ve always thought of myself as a girly girl, but was afraid to show it, especially after I met you. I guess I wanted to love you more than I wanted to love myself. But I never stopped wanting… I’ve been obsessed with surgery and becoming the woman I am for twenty years. So, when you surprised me with your revelation today, I was thrilled.” I continued. “I didn’t have any immediate plans, but I recently learned of a surgeon in Thailand that is an artiste, a miracle worker. even.” I paused and Amber looked at me placidly, nodding for me to go on. “So… what do you think about a vacation to Thailand? The two of us in the exotic tropics?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, and the enticing idea of a couple weeks in Thailand; I’ve seen several shows on it in 4K and it was dazzling! “Sounds amazing, Darling. You book it and I’m there." My boss, the DA of the Southern District will just have to manage without me for a time. I wasn’t going to miss the beginning of the next chapter in this strange love affair. “Oh, if only we hadn’t been keeping secrets from each other, we would have been so much happier.”

She smiled. “It almost seems obscene to be happier than I’ve been. I’m a very lucky girl to have found you.”

“It’s only going to get better, now let’s eat so we can get home and book a holiday!”

Today was a surreal day. Astonishingly wonderful, but surreal. I can finally become the real me, the true me, and I didn’t want to wait another minute to make it happen. Amber had built up a stash of birth control pills, since we weren’t having typical intercourse lately. So, until I get my appointment with the endocrinologist, we decided to give me a head start.

The surgeon was booked out six months in advance, but I really wanted him, so I decided to wait it out. I’ve gone this long, haven’t I? The appointment I scheduled was going to be close to my birthday, so I decided to have it done on the very day. Seemed apropos, somehow. We didn’t just sit around waiting, though, oh no. While I was taking my pills religiously, we spent a lot of time at the mall. I had only two outfits well-hidden at home, but now I had a complete wardrobe as we approached the fateful day.

So, I packed several sundresses, well-suited to the tropics, and several pairs of sandals - half of them flats, half three-inch heels. I was really getting giddy about this time. I had nightgowns for while I was in the hospital. The better to avoid binding of the sensitive area, plus I hate those weird hospital gowns that only pretend to cover your backside.

While my breasts have been growing nicely (the first tingles were a revelation and we’ve been having fun with them), I’ve decided to also get small implants to push the process along. My mom had about size C’s, so I should figure on the same, so I may end up a D in the end. We’ll see how I like them that big when we get to that point. My ‘cute little monster’ or ‘Muppet’ as Amber calls my remaining boyhood, has shrunk quite a bit in six months. I couldn’t be happier and next week I won’t have to wear a gaff anymore!

We’re going to do the beach our first day in Thailand, because I won’t be able to go in the ocean or even have a bath for some time, at least a few weeks. Then we’re gonna do the tourist bit for a few days before my surgery makes the grand tour impossible. But for now, we’re packing and tying up loose ends at work.

It’s cute how excited Madison is. She’s like a child on Christmas morning. And she’s getting every present she ever wanted! I finished helping the Assistant DA on a case we’ve been working on for a few months and my desk is now clear and ready for the holiday. Madison can work from anywhere. They just email her a manuscript and she can edit it at her leisure. I kind of envy her that. But, it is nice to go into the office, all decked out in my legal eagle finery and talk to colleagues about important matters. Madison doesn’t seem to need outside interpersonal relationships as much as I do. She says it’s due to growing up a virtual outcast, not fitting in anywhere. I guess I can see that, although it’s very difficult to imagine all that she’s been through.

What would it be like to live in the wrong body? I try to wrap my head around that and all I can do is imagine if I woke up one morning with a penis and a wide body and all hairy and whatnot. It’s creepy to think about. It’s very lucky Madison never developed that way due to the T-blockers, but to have that appendage and no breasts? That’s gotta be a trip; a very bad trip.

We’ve been having a lot of fun in the bedroom lately. Knowing that her little muppet will be gone soon sort of makes it a novelty. I treat it like a big clitty. And her breasts! They may be small right now, but she flips out when I play with them, it’s so wonderful. But, I almost feel like I am having sex with a twelve year old girl sometimes and that can be a bit disconcerting, at least until I look in her eyes and see my future wife. Those mesmerizing green eyes, the rusty-red of her dark auburn hair, her little nose. I then remember that this is a grown woman and my kitty begins to take on a warm glow.

It’s strange that I’ve always been the dominant one in the relationship. I’m driven and working hard to pass the bar as I work as a legal researcher. And, here I find myself driving us to the airport, because I always drive. I do help around the house, but as she’s always home, I guess she takes on the lion’s share and even cooks dinner for us most of the time. And she’s a great cook! I’ve had a traditional wife all this time and never thought anything of it! I know these are all stereotypes, but stereotypes usually have a strong basis in fact and reality. I adore having a wife. She makes life so wonderful and she seems very happy in her role.

Amber pulled into the long-term parking lot and I let out a big sigh. The first step in a journey I’ve been waiting to take for twenty years. We walked to the terminal and searched for Turkish Airlines. I didn’t even know there was a Turkish Airlines, but they were the quickest and the cheapest, so we’ll see how it goes. 22 hours! Oy! That’s why we’re dressed comfortably in soft leggings and tunics, wearing tennis shoes. We’re still cute and getting lots of attention from men and women alike, which I find quite nice. I feel like I finally exist.

Amber is all smiles for some reason, while my mouth seems to be in a sort of flat configuration wrought by trepidation. I’m not big on flying, or going new places, or trying new things. I usually enjoy them once I get there, but I like to fret. It’s like Forrest Gump says about chocolates, 'you never know what you’re gonna get,' so I tend to worry that I’m gonna get one with coconut or benzene or whatnot.

But I’m not worried about my upcoming surgery. That one is like Easter or Christmas or a birthday - it’s exciting! I suppose it is a birthday of a sort. A rebirth, a renaissance. I’ll be a Phoenix rising from the ashes of a broken childhood. Oh yes, I didn’t say, but I’m going to keep my name, both of them. Sure, I was named after a man; the man who created the Constitution of the United States, but Madison is most often a girl’s name these days and I’ve grown quite attached to it. And my middle name, Leslie of all things, is a family name apparently grown up out of the south a few generations ago. So, although I’ve been lucky in both body and name, the one needs a bit of a tweaking by Dr. Boonmee. So, off I go, with the love of my life at my side.

JFK is a big airport, so we flagged down a little golf-cart like thingy. The young man didn’t seem to have any qualms about driving a couple of pretty girls about. We tipped him ten dollars at the gate and waved him goodbye. My legs were bouncing as we sat there waiting for our flight. Why’d we have to get here so early? I shouldn’t have gotten a coffee, maybe chai tea would have been a better choice. Amber reached over and encircled me in her arms.

“Relax, sweetheart, we’ll be off before you know it. I told you you should have gotten a magazine.” Amber scolded me, but in a soothing way.

“I’m just excited. And I don’t need a magazine, I brought my iPad. I guess I could read some stories on ‘Big Closet.’ I haven’t been keeping up on the new stuff lately.” Already I was calming down, thinking of the warm embrace of such a wonderful trans community and the zillions of neat stories that are available. I’ve thought of writing one. I suppose most editors are frustrated writers. Maybe I’ll try it once we get back home…

We decided to board last instead of standing in the long line. Once seated, we both breathed a sigh of relief. Even though there were still 22 hours and 8,000 miles ahead of us! When Amber and I were at Columbia together, we attended a sit-in protest for several days. If we could sleep under those conditions, these comfy seats would be a walk in the park! I immediately took out a snack pack from my backpack - oooh! I could write poetry! Giggle. Anyhoo, I began snacking right away and Amber had to scold me again. I had to make them last the entire trip. I had eight different kinds, but at this rate they would be gone before Istanbul. I started singing ‘Istanbul (not Constantinople)’ by They Might Be Giants. Amber slapped me on the thigh. “You’re a goofball,” she told me with a smile.

We pulled up the armrest and snuggled together for a while. Oh yes, it would be easy to sleep this way. And we did. We woke up as we touched down at Ataturk International. We had a few hours to kill so we went to have lunch at a cafe on the Bosphorus. It was gorgeous. We could see the Hagia Sophia in the distance and it was just so romantic. But we couldn’t dawdle. We took a cab back to the airport in plenty of time. What a city!

Next stop, Bangkok! My legs started going again and Amber patted them. “Still excited I see.”

“Oh god, you have no idea.” I responded giggling.

“Oh, I have some idea, sweetheart. I’m excited too, I just don’t tend to bounce off walls.” She teased.

I had to soothe my baby, she was so wound up. We snuggled and kissed and her legs finally stopped bouncing. I had feared for the stability of the Airbus. Didn’t want a hatch door to blow or a wing to fall off or something. I giggled and she turned to give me a peck on the lips. “What’s so funny,” she asked.

“Your legs; they were going a mile a minute and I was hoping the plane wasn’t too fragile to handle the stress.” I giggled again and she joined me. Her giggling is so cute, how could anybody have ever thought she was a boy? She never talks about her parents, so I guess that was a pair that tried to ignore her femininity. I’ve met them only once, when we were freshmen. We drove up to Elmira, where Madison grew up and they seemed very nice. But that was when she was pretending to be a boy and bringing a girlfriend home must have been a great relief to them. I know there was some sort of break between them, but I never pushed the matter. They don’t matter anyway; we have each other and that’s all that counts. It was bad enough with my parents quashing my sapphic tendencies, I can’t imagine what Madison went through.

But, enough of that, we’re on the trip of a lifetime! And Bangkok was rising up out of the ocean like Poseidon, trident glinting in the setting sun. There was so much gold! Or gold paint. We were wide awake when we got there and couldn’t wait to hit the beach. After getting a cab to the outskirts we arrived at our hotel and changed into more suitable evening beachwear. As we walked along the beach, we came upon a bar or club-type thing in a large tent, like it was a pop-up carnival or something. And there was a carnival-like atmosphere as we strode up to the massive square-shaped bar. The girl was pretty. There were a lot of pretty girls here. She asked us what we’d like to drink in a husky voice and we asked what she would recommend. We wanted to try something local. Madison and her penchant for geographically accurate drinking!

We were given a Sabai Sabai, or the “Thai Welcome Drink” she said. It’s the official alcoholic drink of Thailand, using Mekhong liqueur with lime juice, syrup and basil leaves. It was really quite tasty. They had karaoke going on, mostly in English and we ended up singing a couple rowdy songs with a pair of ex-pat Brits. They were a lot of fun, even if they were a bit tipsy; maybe because they were tipsy! It seemed that most men were happy hitting on the local ‘girls’ and we weren’t too sorry about that. It allowed for a more relaxing evening. We had been pointed out several girls that were supposedly trans, so that was a trip. Madison was fascinated. One of the trans girls told Madison about a local herb with the botanical name Pueraria Mirifica. Apparently it’s used for feminization. Fascinating. Too bad we didn’t know about that a long time ago!

It didn’t matter now. We were on the final leg of Madison’s magnificent journey. Just a few more days to go.

Our days on the beach and meandering about town were so welcome. It had been years since we'd had a vacation. We both took summer classes at Columbia, so we were always busy, but not too busy to enjoy ourselves too! And fall in love. I had never been a sexual creature, but Amber grew on me until I started having physical feelings for her, too. That was a relief, because I thought we were doomed. I had always assumed, because I was a girl, that I would fall in love with a man and I suppose I would have if one would have come along. But I was a little androgynous, or lesbian-like at the time. They probably didn’t know what to make of me. But Amber gave me a chance. And it was a chance encounter that brought us together. Just another day in the huge auditorium for a history lecture. We were both freshman and I, being who I am, liked to sit in the same seat every single class. But, one day I was just a tad late and my seat was occupied. So I found myself in a seated next to a pretty girl a little further toward the front.

Yes, her name was Amber, and she kept stealing glances at me for some reason I couldn’t fathom. Maybe I have gum in my hair or an ink smudge on my face? While the professor’s TA was setting up the overhead projector, she started chatting with me. Next was coffee and then dinner, then a visit to her dorm and mine. Next thing I knew I was bringing her home to meet my parents. We just got along so well and I really didn’t know what it meant other than I wanted to spend all of my free time with her. Not a meet-cute, but certainly a chance encounter that led to where we are today.

Which is at the hospital waiting to be checked in. “Madison Davis?” My name was called in pretty good English but with a thick accent. I got up and strode to the front desk.

“Hello Miss Davis. I have some paper for you fill out.” The receptionist said and I nodded.

“Okay. Thank you.” I said, even though there must have been twenty pages! But, time always flies with Amber by my side and we chit-chatted and she helped me with some of the papers. It’s nice to have a second in your corner, isn’t it? So, anyway, within an hour I was checked in and sitting in my private room with Amber in the other chair. I wasn’t going to get in that bed yet, especially since I would be stuck in it for a week! She was reading some guidebook on Bangkok and I was reading some ‘Big Closet’ stories. They sure got me excited. The shame I’ve always felt slipped further away with each story I read. There are many thousands like me, and it’s okay! I’m okay and a worthwhile human being!

And this human being was being given a colon cleansing solution. Don’t know why, but I just went with it. Amber brought Pad Thai for my last meal as a pseudo boy, then no more food until after surgery in the morning. I wasn’t supposed to drink, either, so I was downing tea like there was no tomorrow. I hoped there would be a tomorrow. Oh, stop worrying, you goof! This guy’s supposed to be a miracle worker, so… but what about the anesthesiologist? What if he sucks? The weak link? Stop it!

“Are you okay?” Amber asked me with concern etched on her face.

“Oh, you know me, always fretting about something. I can’t wait til it’s over.

“Well, they’ll give you a sleeping pill soon and it’ll be done before you know it. Okay? Just relax. I’m here.” She cooed.

“Yes you are.” I leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. The nurse gave us a little smile as she was walking into the room.

“You ready for sleep now? I have pill.” She offered.

I nodded. “Yes.” I squeezed Amber’s hand and she squeezed back. She followed me over to the bed and tucked me in. She’s gonna make a great mom. It’s a good thing we saved some of my sperm a while back, I just hope they're good swimmers! I intend to be a great mom as well, and I’m the one who’s always home, so… That is going to be so amazing!

“Whatcha thinkin’ about so hard? Amber asked me.

“We’re gonna be great moms aren’t we?”

“Especially you!” She blurted. “You are way more maternal than me, you’re gonna be terrific. I almost can’t wait. Not looking forward to being pregnant, but…” She trailed off.

“You’re going to be beautiful.” I beamed.

She looked at me a little squinty-like. “You’re such a terrible liar!”

“What'd I say?”

She didn’t respond to that, she just shook her head slightly with a quirky smile, then gave me a big hug and a kiss goodnight. “Night sweetheart. I’ll be here first thing, before you go under, okay?”

I nodded and I was off to dreamland.

I was so relieved when Madison came out of the surgery followed by a smiling doctor. Dr. Boonmee, I presume. “Good result. She fine, very fine, yes.” He smiled and nodded at me.

“Thank you doctor. How long until she wakes up?” I asked.

“Maybe one hour, maybe two. She is being fine!” He reassured me.

Well, that’s a relief, but I won’t be happy until she wakes up. She had an IV attached to the back of her left wrist and a little box with what I was told was morphine. So, she’ll be off with Morpheus while I’m stuck in the Matrix. I giggled to myself.

An hour or so later I heard a little moan and looked up from my book. Madison’s eyes were open and she seemed to be staring at the ceiling. “Good morning, sweetheart,” I cooed, and Madison lifted her head. “Are you in pain?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I’m… water.” She tried.

“I’ll ask the nurse, sweetie. Be right back.” I promised and she nodded slightly and lay her head back down. It took me about five minutes to get her just a tiny glass of water, something about vomiting, I think. “Okay, this is all they gave me, so swish it around your mouth. She did, then fell back to sleep.

Three hours later, Madison finally stirred again and she sat straight up. “Hi baby! Happy Birthday, and welcome to the fairer sex.” I grinned at her. “How you doing? Any pain?” She moaned and shook her head, wincing.

“Don’t forget our promise, our pact. No more secrets.” I reminded her.

She lay down and grimaced. Then she pointed at the morphine box. “More Pheen,” she whispered. I tweaked the button and a moment later she was smiling. “No more secrets.” She whispered.

I whispered back, “Then I should probably let you know something.” I paused for effect. “I love you with all my heart.” She sat up on her elbows with a little effort. She shook and nodded her head all at the same time.

Then she said simply, “I love you more.” My new wife then fell back to sleep.

The End

For those of you who are enjoying reading my Novel Series 'Friending Jane Austen,' I must apologize. I was posting as I went along and hit a road block. I promise I won't make that mistake again. In the meantime, I will be posting some short stories and novelettes I hope you enjoy. I have a few novels that are about 3/4 finished, but those will have to wait until the muses return. Being bipolar, sometimes the Muse is removed forcibly, despite my best efforts to protect her. Take care and may all your days be bright!

 

Par for the Course A Transgender Tale A Very Short Novelette By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 7,800 Image from Adobe Stock: FILE #: 791166611

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Beautiful days are almost a given at Olympic Pines Golf Club. Even when it rains it’s gorgeous, unless you’re a caddy carrying thirty pounds or more of golf paraphernalia over two miles of hilly terrain. I’ve been caddying here for two years now, since I graduated from high school. It’s a full time job for me, although there’s a lot of downtime where there are no wealthy patrons who want my services. I get offers from them for other types of services, but I’m not one to indulge in sexual escapades.

I’m sure that half the time they think I’m a girl, and it’s not just because I have thick blonde hair down nearly to my perky bottom. The puberty fairy never visited me and it’s looking as if he never will. I’ve gotten used to my androgynous look over the years, so the prospect isn’t as painful as it used to be. I just wear shorts and the club polo shirt, size extra small, on my 5’4” frame. I used to have dreams of a golf career, but never getting muscles or growing to even an average height put the kibosh on that. But, I love golf so much that I’m very happy to caddy at such a lovely and exclusive club as Olympic Pines. And the tips aren’t anything to sneeze at either.

Things are pretty much the same here day after day, but I get to meet many interesting people, mostly men, and wildlife (not just the men) tends to congregate on the fairways. Just this morning there was a herd of deer on the third fairway. Nope, no gophers at this golf club, sorry Bill Murray. Things were going according to Hoyle until Joshua Stern showed up one day. He had just sold his popular social media app for an obscene amount of money and was apparently looking for a hobby to fill his now empty calendar.

“I’m told you’re the best caddy at the club and even give a lesson to kids now and then.” He said to me, without introduction.

“I’m okay,” I deprecated. “I love my job, I know that much! Lindsey Gardner at your service (my parents were Fleetwood Mac fans, even if they spelled my name wrong).” I smiled and offered my hand.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. “You need to have confidence, or you’ll get nowhere in this world.” He sermonized. “Stand up straight. Stick your chest out.” O-kaay, this guy’s kinda weird.

“Yes sir.” I obliged. You always nod and agree when your tips depend on it. “How can I help you…?” I asked, hopefully prompting for a name.

“Joshua Stern.” He provided. There we have it. “I need a caddy, and one that can teach as well. You would fit the bill, if you meet my exacting requirements. I will pay you $500 today to play a round of golf with me, choose my clubs, read the breaks, critique my game play. If you pass muster, I would put you on retainer for $1000 per week. How does that sound?”

How does that sound? Are you kidding me? That’s double what I get caddying two rounds per day all year round. “That sounds amazing, sir.” I replied. “Shall we go get a tee time?”

“No need, they’ll let me in when I’m ready. Let’s go hit the driving range.” He insisted. Wow, this guy’s got a lot of balls. And not the little white dimpled kind, either.

So he was hooking and slicing all over the place and I adjusted his stance and his hand placement and things started to straighten out. I took notes on how far he hit the ball with different clubs, etc. “I think you’re getting the hang of it sir.” I told him.

“Thanks to you. You’re already paying off. And call me Josh, okay? We’re not in the boardroom.” He snickered.

“Yes sir, I mean Josh.” I blushed.

“Okay, I’m warmed up, let’s go hit the course.” He prompted.

On the first tee, things started getting weird again. He said, “If this is going to work, I’m going to need you to dress more appropriately.” I looked down at myself, wearing the same shorts and polo I always wear, and shrugged. He continued. I don’t go for the slacker vibe these days. Girls always wore dresses or skirts and had their hair up in a visor cap.” Why was he telling me this? It’s true enough, though. Lots of women players are now wearing pants and shorts instead of the cute outfits they used to wear in times past. “And a little makeup wouldn’t go amiss. Gotta put your best foot forward. Make a good impression. That counts for a lot in this dog eat dog world. Okay, kiddo, I’m up first.” It was a long par four and his distance wasn’t that great yet, but we’ll get him there. He did hit it down the middle of the fairway, but he was a long ways back from the green.

“Well done sir.” I told him.

“Josh. Yes, thanks to you. That’s probably the best drive I’ve ever hit.” He said. “Okay , you’re up. Let’s get you up to the women’s tee.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, that’s the way it’s done, isn’t it. You can’t hit it as far, that’s why it’s there. Go use it. Don’t go easy on me now. I wanna know what I’m dealing with.”

Okay, if that’s what he wanted, I wasn’t going to argue. I always have trouble with this hole because of the length. Gaining thirty yards will be a nice change of pace. Maybe I can finally birdie the darned thing. So I addressed the ball and smashed it fifty yards past Josh’s ball. All he could say was “wow!” Wow indeed. That was kinda fun. I think I’m gonna like the women’s tees. I only have 150 yards left into the green, so I have a good shot at getting it close to the pin.

I took the opportunity to give him some advice on his approach shot. “Now, the pin is back right, so you want to fade it in from the left. It goes uphill from front to back, so don’t worry about the roll out. Your three-iron should do the trick. Now, to fade it, bring your hands in and take a weak grip, that’s counterclockwise on the grip, okay?”

“Gotcha.” He took a couple of practice swings and I complimented him. That caused him to smile, then he bore down and let ‘er rip. I’m not kidding, that thing faded perfectly between the bunkers, bouncing in front of the green and rolling toward the hole nicely. I couldn’t have done it better myself. Beginner’s luck, I thought. He was only ten feet away below the hole - so, perfect. He was in shock. Well, truth be told, I was, too. “Wow,” he said, “You’re a great teacher. I’ve never hit a shot like that before. You keep this up and you’ve got yourself a job.”

Well, knowing this course as well as I do, I knew how his putt was going to break, and it was uphill, so I had him adjust his practice strokes to match and he poured it right in. I was golden. Omigod, I’m gonna feel so rich with his retainer! So, it went like that - well, not always so perfectly, but he had a decent round after birdieing the first hole - he scored an 85. “Beat my best by ten strokes!” He admitted.

“Well done Josh!” I enthused. I scored a 70, which was my best score ever on this course, mainly because I got to hit from the women’s tees.

He walked up to me with his hand outstretched. “I’d say you’ve got yourself a job!” He said, shaking my hand, then pulling me into a hug. “That was simply amazing! You are amazing!”

“Thanks Josh,” I blushed down to my little Nike spikes.

“So, tomorrow,” he began, “I’m gonna get you some proper attire in the pro shop. Be here at eight, then you can change and we can do it all again. I think I wanna play one more round with you before you caddy for me. Is that alright with you?”

“Yes sir,” I reverted. “That’s very alright with me,” I smiled. I get another $500 plus some new clothes. That’s very very alright!

He handed me five $100 bills and patted me on the shoulder. “See you bright and early then.” He said and whistled his way toward the pro shop. I still had time to caddy for another patron. This is gonna be the best day ever!

This one guy saw me with Josh, so he was anxious to get me to caddy for him. “I saw you with Mr. Stern,” he said. “You were spectacular, young lady.” Wonderful. He thinks I’m a girl, but the patron is always right, so…

“Thank you sir.” I said. “Would you like me to caddy for you?”

“Oh, yes! I’ve been looking to up my game and I think you would be perfect. Should we give it a go?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” I said, grateful that I wasn’t going to be playing this round. It takes a lot out of you when you’re essentially playing two rounds simultaneously.

He had already hit a bunch of balls on the range, so we went straight to the first tee. He was doing everything wrong, so I gave him some tips. He still hooked it into the rough, though. He’ll never make it to the green from there. This guy wasn’t going to be as easy as Josh. I kinda felt a tug toward the women’s tee. As grateful as I was to not be playing, there’s this siren song that calls to you, to tee it up, to rip it down the fairway, to get it into that little cup. I could feel my forearms twitch. But, this was Mr. Fairbanks’ round. I need to try to get him up to snuff if I want a nice tip.

I was disappointed that he ended up with a 105. That’s just horrible. 33 over par. But he comes up to me and says with a smile, “Beat my best by five strokes.” You’re kidding me. “No kidding! You, my dear, are worth your weight in gold.” I wonder how much 105 pounds of gold is worth? I giggled to myself. I did a quick calculation - that’s over $4 million! Okay, hotshot, pay up! Giggle.

So, I went home with $1000 in my pocket! I never made $500 for a round in my life, then it happens twice in one day! Thank you Joshua! I went to my favorite Mexican restaurant and got the shrimp on rice dish that I’ve always wanted to try. It’s $20 so I never felt I could afford such an indulgence. And it was worth every penny. I even got two glasses of Pepsi^TM, which I never do! I felt so rich! I walked back home and had the best night’s sleep I could remember.

I was excited to greet the day ahead of me. Another $500 and hopefully payment of the retainer. I may have to ask him about that. I made a bagel with cream cheese to jump start the day. A cup of coffee got me all the way to take-on-the-world mode. So I jumped in the shower and washed and conditioned my hair. I didn’t dare skip a day when I’m seeing Joshua - he would just read me the riot act. Don’t want to risk this set-up for anything.

#

I got to the club at seven since I would be meeting up with Josh at eight. Maybe he’ll be early and we could work on the driving range and practice putting. I just wore my regular attire since Josh was gonna buy me some new threads so I don’t look like a ‘slacker.’ Jeez, it was always good enough before. He sure is a stickler. I guess hundreds of millions of dollars will do that to a guy. You can get whatever you want. Why not have it just right?

Josh pulled up right after me and he got out with a box in his hands. “Good morning Lindsey. Got your outfit for you!” Who calls it an outfit?

“Cool. Thanks Josh, and good morning to you too!” I enthused, reaching for the box.

“Just go ahead and change and I’ll meet you on the range in a few minutes, ‘kay?” He said with a stern expression. ‘Stern,’ get it? Giggle.

So I skipped to the locker room, sat on a bench and opened my box. The fabric was pink! Not shocking pink, but it was pink nonetheless. Oh well, he’s the boss. So I pulled out what I thought was going to be a shirt and it just kept going. It was a dress! Omigod, he so totally thinks I’m a girl. What am I gonna do? I can’t wear a dress! So, I went back out to talk to Josh. But, what if he doesn’t want me after I tell him I’m a guy, or that I won’t wear the dress? Oh god! The money!

Well, they say that money talks, so what I did was turn around. I went back to the locker room and sat on the bench, trying to work up the courage to put on the stupid dress. It was cute, though. It had the Olympic Pines logo on it and everything. But I’m a guy! Gaah!

I decided I better go into a cubicle to try on the dress. I didn’t want anyone to see me if it was totally ridiculous. Of course it’s going to be ridiculous, but at least they won’t see me putting it on. I was glad that I wear tightie whities as I pulled the dress down over my hips. It didn’t look like you could see my underwear through the fabric. God, I can’t believe I’m even considering this. What’s wrong with me? Oh, yes, money is what’s wrong with me. The root of all evil and all that. But this isn’t evil, right? It’s just embarrassing. I could live with a little embarrassment in order to live comfortably, right? Gack!

After I got the dress all sorted, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and put on the cute visor that Josh also provided. I then put on my size five spikes and was glad for the first time that I have small feet. Okay. I still haven’t heard anyone else in the locker room, so I cracked the door and peeked out. The coast was clear, so I snuck out to look at myself in the mirror, bracing for the horror. But, what I saw was a girl! A cute girl! What the heck? I actually had hips, and the built in padded bra gave me a little up top, so I actually looked… for the first time in my life I actually thought of myself as attractive. But, as a girl! I was getting really confused.

I then heard a couple manly voices head into the locker room and I froze. I thought I was going to pass out. The voices quieted and one of them said, “um, sorry young lady, but you have the wrong locker room. The ladies’ is across the hall.” I’m sure I turned beet red.

“Oh! Sorry.” I said, and quickly made my way out the door and into the lobby. I sat on the edge of a big fluffy chair in order to gather my breath and my wits. Josh is going to be waiting for me. I need to get going, but everyone is going to see me like this. But would anybody really see a boy in a dress? To me, I looked totally girl, so maybe this wouldn’t be the nightmare it seemed to be. So, I got up and slowly made my way outside, peeking left and right and looking for odd reactions or screams of ‘lookit the boy in the dress’ and all other sorts of nightmare scenarios. But, none came.

Josh was on the practice putting green and he looked up after a particularly bad putt. Something new to work on today. He saw me and smiled. He actually smiled upon seeing me! I relaxed just a little and made my way over to him. He said, “ahh, that’s a perfect fit. I knew you’d look good in proper attire. Now we can get down to business.” He glanced at my legs and then back up to my face. “Don’t you shave the peach fuzz on your legs? You girls nowadays!” He shook his head. “You’re gonna need to shave that and put on a little makeup for pete’s sake. And I can see your panty lines. Don’t you have proper underwear, either?” I blushed profusely. He went on, “Golf isn’t just a game; it’s a chance to make business connections and you’ve gotta look good. First impressions and all that. Please, for tomorrow, be shaved and have at least a little makeup on.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and just nodded.

“Yes, Josh, sorry. Is there anything else?” I don’t know why I asked that. It’s like I’m inviting more of this strange makeover.

He looked me up and down. “Just, those socks don’t really look right. Maybe wear those kinds that don’t show? Those really short ones? And maybe a ribbon in your hair. I always thought that looked cute with a golf outfit. That’s just a suggestion, though.” I was writing all this down in my yardage booklet. Didn’t want to mess up again. There’s a lot of money riding on this.

“Gotcha.” I said. “Are you ready for some putting tips, or do you want to hit the driving range?” I asked.

“Putting is where my game went south yesterday, so let’s start there.” He said with authority. I nodded and reached into my bag to grab a bunch of balls. I tossed them all around the green and we began. I straightened out his stance and stroke and then told him how to read the greens and the specific foibles of this course. How most putts break towards the creek in the valley, that sort of thing. Then we warmed up on the driving range. I had to readjust him after he went back to some of his old habits, but then we were ready to go.

I had to make sure to bend at the knees so I didn’t show off my inappropriate underwear. Otherwise, the dress was actually way more comfortable that my normal clothing. I think it helped me shave two strokes off my handicap. I could get used to this. His putting was much better this round. I helped him read his putts and he was almost to the point of being able to do it himself by the end of the round. He scored an 80 this time. “At this rate, I’ll score a 59 by the weekend.” He enthused. “You really are a miracle worker Lindsey.”

I blushed and giggled, “Thanks, Josh. But you’re an awesome student. I don’t think I’ve had anybody pick up on my pointers so quickly.”

A group of well dressed men gathered around as we came off the 18th green. They were all clamoring for my services. I joked with a big smile, “Okay, I’ll caddy for the highest bidder.” Then one guy actually bid $1000! I was only joking, but, what the heck. He bid the highest and he was actually the youngest and cutest of all the guys. Did I actually just think that? Must be the dress. Weird.

On the first hole, he squeezed my butt as he was going up to the tee box. He actually squeezed my butt! I was about to protest, but then I thought about all that money and zipped my lip. As long as he didn’t take me behind the bushes, I could put up with just about anything. So, I didn’t have any yardages for this guy. His name is Matt by the way. I had to build this plane in midair - guessing his yardages by the length of his first drive, which was 250, just like Josh’s was at first. But, this guy wasn’t as big or fit as Josh, so I figured I would go one club longer on each of his intermediate shots. That worked a charm. And his posture and grip was all wrong, so I adjusted that right away and he did a bit better. Wasn’t as quick a study as Josh, but who is? Josh is one of a kind. And he hasn’t pinched my butt even once!

Anyways, we get done with Matt’s round and he tells me that he did twenty strokes better than he ever has? OMG! He shot a 95, and that’s his best? He’s gonna need a lot more practice with the new techniques I gave him. I don’t know if I wanna teach him anymore after all the pinching and flirting he did. This guy was incorrigible! But it did make me feel pretty good about how I must look. I was desirable in a way, I guess. And I kinda liked it. I never felt desirable before. I’ve never had a date in my life, so… yeah, not the most masculine of dudes.

I was kinda scared to go into the lockerroom when we were done, after what had transpired earlier; so, I just wore the dress home. I would change there. So, I get home and immediately strip to take a shower. I took a good look in the mirror. I guess my body is a little feminine. I never considered that before. I always just thought of myself as a tiny skinny dweeb. But, in that dress…

After my shower, I put on my regular daily uniform so I could go get something to eat, and I guess some makeup and socks, too. My outfit felt kind of off now. I had lost some of the confidence I had built up throughout the day. So, that’s weird. I just looked wrong now, and yes, slackerish. Josh was right, after all. Why do I keep thinking about him? Must be the money and the weird stuff he has me doing. That dress was really comfortable though.

So, I first went to YouTube to watch a couple makeup tutorials. I had only worn makeup once, like ten years ago, when my friend Janie got me ready for Halloween. I was super little then and really did get tons of candy for my efforts. Lots of ‘cute’s and ‘awww’s too. I blushed thinking about it. Armed with knowledge from the tutorials, I made for CVS. It cost me around $100 for all the makeup and some girly razors, but that was a small price to pay considering I just got paid $2500 today. That was lawyer-type money! Well, almost. And I get paid all that to do something I love in the most beautiful setting imaginable. I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

I had to go to Target for the socks, panties, and ribbon. I thought, since I looked so cute, I might as well try for the ribbon as well. I actually got a cute scarf instead of a ribbon - that should look really nice. Maybe it’ll help me rake in some extra cash. Who knows? Lordy, I’m like prostituting my masculinity for cash. Not that I ever had any masculinity. Sigh. Well, as if that weren’t enough, I even bought another golf dress and two sports bras. This was quickly getting out of hand, but I didn’t want to have to wash my dress out every night, so…

The evening was quickly waning, so I grabbed some McDonald’s and ate it in front of the TV, watching a rerun of the day’s LPGA tour. A lot of them were dressed just like Josh said, and I figured I could give most of them a run for their money. Did I just compare myself to other girls? Other? Oy! Well, they sure looked way better than the women wearing pants. That’s just so wrong. I guess I’m a convert to the Stern method. Giggle.

I got up early the next morning, so I would have time to shave my legs and armpits and do my makeup. I have no hair on my face, so I figured I didn’t have to shave that bit. Also, I didn’t feel like washing Josh’s dress last evening, so after getting all silky and smooth, I put on the new one I bought at Target. I think I’ll buy a few more from ThredUp^TM tonight, so I’ll have more choices and won’t have to wash as often. I don’t know how often Josh was going to be golfing, or when, so I’ll probably just have to wear a dress every day just to be safe. I wasn’t as sad about that as I probably should have been. I did look quite good in them after all. It’s cool that club management hasn’t said anything about my new attire - that could be an awkward conversation.

#

I walked to the club wearing my same old trainers and thought that I might want to buy a couple more to match my outfits. Okay, I’m definitely losing my mind here. Why would I need more than just my white ones? But, it would be so much cuter if they matched. Gaah! I wondered what it says about me that I so willingly feminized myself for Josh. Well, no, I feminized myself for the money, there’s a big difference. But still, how many guys would have done it for any amount of money? I bet they would have asked for a lot more before they went as far as I have. But, then again, most guys wouldn’t look as cute in these dresses as I do. So there!

Funny, as soon as I got to the club, I saw Mr. Bell, the president of the club, and he walked up to me with a big smile on his face. Good lord, what is happening? He reached out his hand to me. “You’re making a lot of people around here very happy young lady.” He said as we shook hands. Wow, even he thinks I’m a girl! That’s a relief, I guess. “Keep up the good work. You may win caddy of the year at this rate.” He smiled and I returned it with one of my own.

“Thank you sir.” I said, and he was gone. Must be a busy guy.

Then the head pro comes out of the pro shop. Now what? He saunters up to me, looking around like he’s CIA or something. “What did Mr. Bell want? Everything okay, Lindsey?” He said, looking me up and down. “You look nice, by the way.”

“Thank you, David. No, everything’s fine. He just wanted to tell me how happy he is with the job I’m doing. He says I may even win caddy of the year! I didn’t even know that was a thing.

“Yeah, it is, and we’ve gotten several comment cards from people you’ve caddied for and the reviews are very good. Well done. Must be your change in attire? Did I say you look good?”

I giggled. “Yes you did David,” I grinned and gave him a little smack on the shoulder. “Yeah, Josh Stern was the one to get me started. He said I needed to make a better first impression, so I guess I have.”

“And second, third and fourth impressions as well, I’d say.” David added.

“I guess so.” I said as Josh meandered up to join us in front of the pro shop.

“Hey Lindsey! I like your new dress. It really suits you.” Josh said with a big grin.

“Yeah, she looks good, doesn’t she?” David enthused.

“That she does, but that’s not all.” He looked me in the eyes. “Lindsey has come out of her shell, too. She looks happier and she’s more conversational that when we first met. See? If you look good, you feel good, right?”

“Yes sir.” I blushed.

Josh said, “I’m having trouble getting her to stop calling me sir and mister, though. She’s a tough nut.”

“I don’t know about tough, but I’m a nut alright,” I joked.

“See? She’s a new woman!” Josh said. Oh, you have no earthly idea how new, Mr. Stern!

I had switched to the ladies locker room, just to avoid unfortunate confrontations like the other day. I hope the girls don’t mind. It’s not like I’m being creepy and staring at them or anything. But I do like to see what they’re wearing, so maybe that’s weird. I don’t know. So I went in to get my spikes, so I could go up and down the hills easier. I’m not playing today, at least not this morning, so it’s not like I need them to stabilize my swing or anything. I’ll just be carrying Josh’s bag.

“Where are your clubs?” Josh asked when I met him at the putting green.

“I thought I was just caddying today.” I explained.

“No way! Playing with you is inspiring and I learn so much. It’s fun to watch a pro as I go puttering along.” He said.

“I’m not a pro,” I told him. “I’m just a caddy.”

“Why in the world aren’t you a pro? You sure play like one, and your teaching is top-notch.” He related, causing me to blush again. He’s always doing that.

“I was just never good enough. Even in high school, I lost to everybody.” I lamented.

“Well, you should try again. You’re obviously better than you were, if that’s the case.” He said earnestly.

I suppose I could try to get my card. I never even tried after my high school experience. ‘Course, I wouldn’t be playing from the ladies’ tees for that. I wouldn’t really stand a chance, would I? So, I told him, “I’ll think about it.” Even though I wouldn’t. I knew I was too weak to make it. Sigh.

I went back to get my clubs and met Josh back on the greens. We worked on his putting some more, then headed to the driving range. He was working on increasing his club-head speed, so he was now nearing 300 yards on his drives, with pretty good accuracy. At this rate, he wouldn’t need me for much longer. I told him so.

“I like playing with you,” he said. And I just like seeing you every day. You brighten my day, you know that? Since I sold my company, I don’t have a lot of personal interaction and you’re way better than anyone I had there. ‘Course, this is more fun than troubleshooting apps and managing 100 people. That was a nightmare. So when I was offered a giant golden parachute, I jumped.” He grinned. “Plus, this game is kinda, I don’t know, not relaxing exactly, but there’s a lot of in-between time. I’ve had a dozen new Ideas just this week. I could start a new company, that is if I get bored, or you get bored with me.” He looked at me with narrowed eyes.

“That’s hardly going to happen,” I said. “I like playing with you too. And you soak up lessons like a sponge. I have a feeling we’re gonna be on a par pretty soon and we’ll have to start wagering to make it interesting.” I quirked him a smile.

He said, “How ‘bout we start today? I bet you a new dress that I will tie or beat you.” He grinned.

Well, I didn’t figure I could lose that bet but I asked anyway, “And If you win?”

“You let me take you out to dinner.” Oh shit. This was quickly getting out of hand. I mean, I have absolutely nothing to wear for a dinner out with a man who thinks I’m a woman. Ummm.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have anything nice to wear for going to dinner. Thanks for the thought, though.” I sighed. I never get to go anywhere nice.

“Well, then we’ll have to go shopping, won’t we?” He offered.

“You really think you’re going to beat me, don’t you?” I said.

“Yes.” He said seriously. Well, that’s nice. He’s overconfident. He’s not that far along. At least I’ll get a new dress out of it, though.

“You’ve got a deal!” I smiled and we shook hands.

So anyways, on the first tee he wiggles his butt at me while he’s addressing the ball. I got a little distracted and had to shake my head to get back in the game. He’s got a nice butt, what can I say? He then ripped the ball 300 yards down the center of the fairway. There’s no way I can reach that, even with my extra 30 from the ladies’ tees. I’ve taught him too well.

I then get up to my tee box and he comes up in front of me, talking about the weather, how it’s so warm and all that. Then he lifts his shirt to wipe his forehead, revealing a perfectly chiseled six-pack. I just stared at it and felt my flat and soft belly. He was still saying stuff, but I have no idea what it was. He finally said, “Lindsey, hellooo! Are you going to tee off, or what?” He grinned.

“Umm, yeah.” So I addressed my ball and proceeded to hook it into the deep rough about 200 yards down the fairway. Great.

It went on like that for the next four hours; him cheating by distracting me, and me duffing the ball left and right. We were tied at 75 going into the 18th. I kinda wanted to go out to dinner with him, but I’m not gonna throw a match for a dinner. My momma raised me better than that. I had every intention of beating him on this final hole. “What if we tie?” I asked.

“Then I guess we do both, dinner and two dresses!” He grinned, way too happy at the prospect.

So I get to the tee and he says, “What if I told you I love you.” I choked, literally. This was a new low, even for a man that’s been distracting me all day long.

“That’s not fair!” I screeched. “Or funny.” I added

“It’s not funny, because it’s true.” He said flatly, looking into my eyes with unwavering contact.

Okay, breathe. Don’t let his silliness get to you. God, he really wants to win this and I’m not gonna let him. I took another breath and calmed my nerves, closing my eyes and picturing my shot. I haven’t taught him visualization yet, so I still have a little advantage over him. This last hole is a reachable par 4 if you’re a long hitter, which I’m not. Did I say? He gets up there and rips a low screamer that must have rolled forty yards onto the edge of the green. Holy mother of god! I am so screwed.

So, my turn, and I just hit my normal 250 to within about fifty yards of the green. At least it was on the fairway this time. I’ll have to have a nice pitch to win this hole. His ball is in perfect position for an easy birdie. We were silent on the walk up to my ball. I grabbed my sand wedge. I wiggled my club and my butt, feeling my little skirt swish around my thighs. I kinda liked that feeling. Now, since the green tilts down from front to back, I planned on sticking it past the hole, with enough spin to bring it up the hill toward the hole a little bit. I would leave myself an uphill putt for birdie. What I didn’t plan on was for it to whip back, hit the pin and go down! An eagle! I’ve got it in the bag now.

He had a fifty foot downhill putt with five feet of break to tie me. He asked me to help him read the putt, and since that is what he was paying me for, I obliged. I didn’t figure he’d get within ten feet anyway. The unfortunate thing is that, just that morning, we were practicing long putts. No matter. This was in the bag. Anyways, you can probably guess the improbability of the fact that he sank the damned thing! We tied at 77! Two eagles on the final hole? Impossible. But here we were.

But, that’s not the strangest thing. He proceeded to grab me around the waist and spin me around in glee. “Dinner and two dresses!” he crowed. “Let’s hit the mall!”

“But I’ve still got another round to caddy. I won’t get off till around five.” I said. “Sorry, it’ll have to wait.

He says, “Here. Here’s your payment for the day, plus another five hundred. Still have to work?”

“That’s not the point.” I shook my head. “This is my job. I’m supposed to be here. Sorry, you can’t have me all to yourself.” I was actually kinda sad about that, for some reason.

“Okay. I’m actually impressed by your principles. Another thing I love about you.” He said earnestly. God, I wish he’d stop throwing that word around so casually. I did get all squishy gooey when he said it though. “I’ll just hang out in the 19th Hole with my laptop. I have a million ideas bouncing around in my head. Come by if you get a chance.” I agreed and made my way to the front of the pro shop.

#

Matt was standing there, chatting with a couple of other guys. I sighed. More butt pinching. The money’s good, though. “I’ll be right with you guys. Hafta hit the little girls’ room.” I said, with a little too much ease.

There were a couple other women in there and we exchanged ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s. I peed and tucked and checked my makeup. I still looked pretty good, but I touched up my lips and powdered my nose. I was getting a bit too shiny.

Matt placed the highest bid again, so I steeled myself for more sexual harrassment. Small price to pay, I figured. I didn’t have to wait long. Again, on the first tee, after I adjusted his grip for a straighter drive, Matt pinched me as I went to stand off to the side. Unfortunately, I squealed and giggled. Well, that’s only going to encourage him.

Just a few minutes later, as I was teeing my ball, who shows up but Josh! What was he doing here? “You pig!” He shouted at Matt. “I’ve been watching you through that window over there.” He pointed toward the 19th hole. “If you don’t apologize to the lady, you’re going to regret it.” He said.

“Josh, you don’t have to…” I tried to interject.

“Do it!” Josh demanded.

“Or what?” Matt countered.

“Or I’ll beat the ever-loving crap out of you. Would you like that?” Josh said.

Matt looked Josh up and down, sizing him up and came up wanting. He looked to me. “Sorry, Lindsey. I was just having a little fun. You didn’t mind, did you?” Omigod, what a flipping jerk! I harrumphed and turned away from him.

“The lady has spoken. She minds. And I mind. For god’s sake, she’s carrying your bag, she’s teaching you how to play golf, so show her some goddamned respect! So, try again. Apologize to the lady.” Josh insisted.

“Oh, Just fuck off!” Matt said and began to walk away, grabbing his bag in a huff.

“My money!” I squealed. God, I am such a mercenary. Is that all I can think of right now? Well, yes.

Josh grabbed Matt’s collar. “Not so fast! You’re gonna pay the lady whether you play or not, so open your wallet.”

Matt turned around in a rage, but then looked up at Josh and thought better of it. He opened his wallet, counted out eight $100 bills and threw them on the ground and walked away. Wow. What a jerk. But I got my money. I turned to Josh and hugged his chest, tears beginning to flow. “Thanks Josh. You didn’t have to, but thanks.”

He placed his hand on my cheek and ran it down to my chin. “You don’t need to put up with assholes like him.”

“But the money…” I began.

“No amount of money is worth you self respect, surely.” He said softly.

“Easy for you to say.” I said.

“You’re right, of course. I’m sorry I said that. So, do you need to find another golfer to caddy?” Josh pivoted.

“I should, but I am sooo done for the day! How ‘bout I buy you a drink instead? ” I said. “It’s the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

He smiled. “I think I may take you up on that.” He grabbed my hand, engulfing it, and I let him lead me to the 19th hole bar and grill. We sat down at the table that still held his laptop. “You’ll have to order it,” I said. “I’m not old enough.” How embarrassing.

“Oh, well, okay, what’ll you have then? “ He asked.

“I’ll have an Arnold Palmer. Tastes better than alcohol anyway.” I grinned.

“That it does.” He ordered our drinks and grabbed my hand across the table. “I’ve really enjoyed working with you and getting to know you.” He said. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“You know? I think you could.” Oh shit. I forgot I’m not really a girl. He’s not gonna like what he finds down there.

He must have read the expression on my face, because he then said, “Relax, I don’t bite.” And he smiled that beautiful smile. “Much.” He added and I couldn’t help but giggle.

As we walked out to his car (in order to go shopping!), he said, “I don’t want you to worry. I’m aware of… your history, shall we say?”

I gulped. “Wh-what do you mean, history?”

“Well, old habits die hard,” he began. “I did a background check on you before we started our… relationship. Our golfer/caddy relationship I mean. Someone in my position can never be too careful.”

“You knew before?” I was shocked.

“Yes, and I also knew that, despite what the documents say, you are all girl.” He squeezed my hand.

“Well, not all girl.” I whispered.

He waved his hand as if to swat away the idea. “Oh, that doesn’t matter. Really. That’s the least of what this life has to offer. And I like what you have to offer so far. I’d like to get to know you even better, so now, knowing all that, I’ll ask again. May I take you on a date?”

“Oh my god, yes!” I squealed and leaned in for a kiss. He obliged. Omigod, his lips were so soft and tender and his kiss so gentle. He tickled my lips with his tongue, then pulled back, looking me in the eye.

“So, shall we go?” He asked.

“Oh yes, we shall.”

#

We got along famously, and the love-making was spectacular, too. Who knew? I moved in with him after two months and quit my job, because we were golfing together several times a week anyway. He got to where he could beat me regularly and I hardly cared - he’s twice my size after all.

It didn’t take me long to get used to his gigantic house. Our gigantic house, now. I was thrilled to get out of my studio apartment and have some room to stretch out. He had tons of books, so I began reading in our down times. I was never much of a reader before that. Turns out I love Jane Austen! Why he had her books, I don’t know, but he is an old softy. Maybe he just likes classics, because I found a bunch more, including ‘Little Women,’ which I also loved.

My breasts were growing nicely and he was fondling them as we sat in the hot tub, watching the sun rise above the mountains. “So, do you want a June wedding?” He asked.

June is the perfect month for weddings around here, but I wanted to wait until I had my surgery. So we could, you know, consummate. Blush. “My surgery isn’t until next March and I’d really like to be complete for our wedding day. I don’t want that, thing, under my beautiful white gown.”

“I get you,” he said. “That’s okay. Next June then.” He smiled, giving my nipple a little pinch and making me squeal.

I was totally healed by the time the wedding rolled around and I must say, my surgeon was a genius. I had the best orgasm ever on our wedding night. In fact, I had three of them!

A year later, I was allowed to enter the U.S. Women’s Open play-in tournament; apparently I had been on hormones long enough to make it legal. I still felt guilty, though.

“You know, most of those women are bigger and stronger than you. You really have nothing to feel guilty about. You are a woman and you deserve to be there.” Josh pointed out.

I smiled. “You make a good point. Okay. The regionals are next week, so I’ll do it!

“Good.” Was all he said, then he kissed me. “I’ll be there cheering you on!” I kissed him back.

Dang, those girls were good and I didn’t stand a chance. Some of them were hitting the ball 300 yards! Still, I decided to go to Q-school and get my card so I could be a golf pro. I really just wanted to do something for myself. Something I’d been dreaming of since I was a young girl. Yes, I can see my life in those terms now. It wasn’t very hard, looking back on it. I didn’t really make it as a boy and I was pretty damned girly truth be told. I have Josh to thank for making me realize it. Bringing the girl out of the shadows of my melancholy androgynous life.

I came out the door with the card in my hand. “It’s official,” I said. “I’m a pro!”

“I already knew that,” Josh said with a smile and a little kiss.

“Thank you.” I said.

He looked puzzled. “For what?” He asked.

“For seeing me, for believing in me, and most of all, for loving me. I love you, Joshua Stern.” What followed was a very long and passionate kiss. Please, close the door behind you.

The End

 

Skin Deep An Accidental Romance A Transgender Short Story By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 5,000

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Photo Credit: Teenager; blonde girl with moisturizer over isolated background
By luismolinero Adobe Stock FILE #: 328061595

Skin Deep
A Transgender Story
By Tara Nicole Miller
Ⓒ 2024
5,000 Words

My mom is a dermatologist, hence the title of this story. Big whoop, you might say, Well, it was for me, and helped me towards where I am today. Ever since I was born, I’ve been slathered in sunscreen, healing antioxidant lotions and oils, and otherwise provided the best skin and hair care one could imagine. As a result, even at a mere eighteen years old, the difference it has made can easily be seen when compared to my peers. And I use the term ‘peers’ loosely.

Loosely, because I have no friends and I am a bit different. All my girlfriends abandoned me when we started middle school. Well, I had one good friend, my next door neighbor Meghan, and a bunch of girls I hung out with at school. I guess meghan never hated me or anything, but apparently it’s not cool to hang out with boys after a certain age. And I use the term ‘boy’ loosely too, at least in my context. While I have mainly been forced to shop in the boys department, I have always gone for the girliest colors available (my fave is pink, obvs) and as tight as I could get away with. I have been able to sneak girl trainers into the cart, and other items of clothing when it wasn’t obvious which gender they were intended for.

It was obvious to the boys at school, though (I have the bruises to prove it). Well, I guess it was obvious to everyone, really, but, in order to placate Daddy, he had to be convinced they came from the boys department. Mom always assured him they were, and what could he say to that? Well, plenty, it turns out, because Daddy is a lawyer (ugh), and a manly one at that. He played sports through college; football, I think; maybe baseball, too. I never really cared, but he seemed to make a big deal of it to his buddies. So, long story short, he didn’t like my girly ways, or how mom had me take care of my skin and hair. How can you be against skin and hair care? I don’t understand boys at all.

Daddy almost made me get my hair cut once, but I made quite the scene. I tried crying first, and ran through the cycle of childish behaviors intended to get one’s own way. Nothing seemed to work until I blurted, “Okay, then I promise you this! I will go to your office every single day in a pink dress and Mary Jane’s until my hair grows out again!” The red of his anger turned ashen green as he looked around wildeyed as if he needed backup in his oral argument. But, I had him there. He couldn’t stop me from wearing one of Meghan’s dresses and prancing into his office, could he? Nope. So my medium blonde hair is midway down my back. And thanks to mom’s wisdom it’s super thick and lustrous. Course, Daddy makes me put it in a low pony tail and hide it in my shirt collar. But, he’s not with me all day, is he? As soon as I get a block away from home, I either pulled my ponytail up high or remove the scrunchy altogether. Depends on my mood, really.

How I got blonde hair is a mystery, I gotta say. We’re mostly Italian, I think. So, when dad was pretending to work late, I was guessing that mom was pretending to be faithful. I wonder who my real dad is?

So, I just started college last month and was placed in a mixed dorm, meaning both boys and girls, men and women, whatever. The weather’s been nice, so I escape my two male roommates whenever I can and study outside on the quad. There’s this one huge elm tree that’s my favorite and I lean against its trunk in its massive penumbra of shade. When the weather gets cooler, I guess I’ll have to find somewhere else, in the sun. So, I have my shades on, my pink and teal tennies, jeans shorts and an ambiguous, sorta, teal t-shirt. See, I’m still trying to placate daddy, so I guess I’ll always just be an androgynous fence-sitter.

I was lucky enough to get a scholarship based solely on my scholarship of all things, go figure! Turns out that homework takes on a bit of shine when your friends all abandon you. So, anyway, daddy dearest has no control over me, except maybe my access to the family, so I go along to get along. I like to go home every other weekend, so, well, I have to tone down my ‘sissy nonsense,’ as he says - what a jerk. And it’s not just dad I’m trying to please, it’s my two macho roommates as well. Oh, I’ll try to ‘man up’ for them, but, have you ever tried doing something against your nature, like 24/7? I can’t imagine the fresh hell that awaits if I fail to be a bit more manly. It’s not easy, let me tell you. But, it’s just clothes, I guess. And my hair, and my skin. Sigh. I’ve been buying soft t-shirts from the women’s department, but they don’t scream girl! They’re just t-shirts, but really comfortable ones that fit a little better.

So, I’m sitting under Elmer, the elm tree dontcha know, reading a chapter to Alannis Morrisette (I like the oldies, so sue me!), earbuds dangling, hair flying in the breeze. This guy comes up to me and yes, he’s cute, but probably a foot taller than my 5’5”. Kinda wish I had heels sometimes, but it’s just tennis shoes for this butch kid. Anyways, he says “Hi, I’m Derek. You have a nice spot here.” Well it was nice until about thirty seconds ago!

I find it hard to be rude, so I just say, “Sal; pleasure to meet you,” and reached my hand up.

“Mind if I sit, Sal?” He says as if I own the tree or something. “Is Sal short for Sally or something?”

“Something like that.” I don’t wanna rile up a guy that could eat me for breakfast, so I keep schtum. Then he just sat without me allowing it with my all-encompassing ownership of campus trees. What nerve! I giggled to myself.

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Oh, nothing, just remembered a joke about trees. Sorry.” Why the heck did I apologize? He’s the interloper here. Sigh. Maybe I am a wuss.

“So, you look like my kinda girl all relaxed and casual. Mind if I get to know you a little bit?” He asked with puppy dog eyes. So adorable. Stop that!

“‘Tsalright. You first.” Oh my god, why was I encouraging him? I need my head examined.

“Your skin is really nice and your hair is really pretty, too.” Thanks, I allowed. “So where you from? Me, I’m from Canada; Calgary, Alberta.” He blushed for some reason. I happen to love Canadians; they are always so darned nice!

“Oooh, I love Canadians!” I blurted and blushed. It was my turn. “Anyways, I’m from Denver, just thirty minutes away. I guess I wasn’t as adventurous as you were.”

“Well, it’s so nice here, why would you want to go away? You know, Calgary and Denver have some similarities. More extremes back home, what with it being 1100 miles north of here. You guys’ population exploded while we just barely doubled over the same time period, though.” I guess he’s some kind of demographic expert - interesting, though.

“Yeah?” This guy was actually kinda interesting and his voice is like baritone butter. My butter is more in the Mezzo Soprano range. Oh, and did I say, he’s really cute? Oh my god, dad is gonna disown me if I don’t knock it off. “I love both Boulder and Denver. Boulder’s like the laid back little sister of Denver.” I rambled. “Or Denver is like Boulder on Steroids, pick your horrible metaphor.” I smiled demurely, tucking a stray plait of hair behind my ear.

“You’re funny! Another check in the ‘Awesome Girl’ column.” He laughed a deep sonorous laugh. Swoon. But, I’m not awesome and I’m not a girl! Sheesh, how do I get myself into these messes? If I told him now, he’d probably beat me to a pulp. Turn on me like a wolf interrupted in the middle of wolfing down dinner. God, I’m weird.

“Thanks,” I smiled. “You seem really cool, too.” Why can’t I shut up?

“So, you wanna go for a coffee sometime? Like now, or tomorrow?” He tried, eagerly.

“Sure.”

☯

We decided on tomorrow, since my next class starts in like fifteen minutes. I took fashion design, mainly to get my dad’s goat, but it turns out to be really fun and interesting. I’m the only boy in the class, but it doesn’t seem to cause any problems. At least not yet, anyway. They all call me Sally, because, well, my name is Salvatore Evangelista - Sal E. for short. I know! It’s just easier is all. So, anyway, we finally started sewing last week after a few weeks of basics, history and nomenclature and all that. Turns out I have a real knack for it. Three of us are in this group (I’ve always hated working in a group - I have to actually talk to people and then do most of the work!) and we’re creating this like fashion week thingy. We’ll each have a garment or two and we’ll model it and market it and stuff. Yes, I have to model, too. Blush. We’re actually working on a dress right now, so…this should be a trip! To the looney bin, probably. Kinda wish dad would show up for fashion week! He’d probably turn green, which would totally coordinate with the dress I’m making!

“So, Sally, your dress looks really awesome so far.” Danielle said to me. “Mine looks like a bag from Victoria’s Secret or something.”

“Oh, come on Dani, it’s not that bad! It’ll probably be a proper Chanel when you’re done with it,” I lied.

“You’re so sweet, and also a terrible liar. You’re just so good at this. I’m all thumbs and monkey feet.” She said and I couldn’t help but giggle at the image.

Veronica spoke up, “We should totally start a study group, maybe Sally’s tide can lift all our boats.” Roni said. She’s a wiz with metaphors, unlike me. I like to use them, but they usually suck, and I’m so good at English, too, I don’t understand it. I guess my creativity lies in making dresses. Take that, dad! Do I sound bitter?

Yeah, I’m as bitter as a bitter piece of fruit or something. See? I told you I suck! Anyways, we decided on Tuesday and Thursday nights in the common area of my building. They’re in the next building over - all girls - co-ed I guess they call it. That term never made sense to me, but I’m going with it. So, we were studying that very same evening, which was a Tuesday. I even brought my sewing machine out and set it up on an end table. I bought one as soon as I found out I loved the class. It cost a thousand dollars, but I get a hefty allowance, so it was no big deal. Although it would be if dad found out. More bitter fruit rinds, I know. I’ll try not to rag on him so much; he’s keeping me in fabric and thread after all. Giggle.

The girls were really impressed with the machine and I taught Dani as much as I could, seeing as how she has monkey feet for hands and all. She was actually starting to get the hang of it, so that was really cool. I was gonna do my darnedest to get our little threesome the top grade in the class. So, I pulled out my dress and sewed the darts and the collar. It was starting to look like a proper dress and almost looked RTW - that’s ‘ready to wear’ for you non-fashionista types. Or prêt-à-porter for you French Canadians out there. Roni may be even worse than Dani, because she hadn’t even started sewing yet. So we gathered up all of her pieces of fabric and, “Oh! I need to go get my dress form dummy thing!” I had bought one of those, too, but I still didn’t know what it was called. So I ran into my dorm room and the boys sniggered as I carried out this little dummy with boobs. I guess you could call me that, too. My gynecomastia has caused me no end of trouble, though truth be told, I love fondling my little booblets. I hadn’t though about my little boobs lately, but I guess it makes sense that everybody thinks I’m a girl. I don’t know if my fashion class knows I’m a boy or not. Dani and Roni have given no indication and I like to keep quiet on the matter, although they are really nice and might not hate me for being a boy. I must think on this.

So, we pinned all of Roni’s pieces together and began sewing. I showed her one run, then had her do it herself. She actually wasn’t half bad, she was just behind the curve. Must have a boyfriend distracting her or something. Speaking of which, I actually have that date-like thing with Derek tomorrow morning. I was kinda looking forward to it with butterflies and locusts and nibbly little rats and stuff, because I’ve actually never had a date, boy or girl. Never been kissed, either. Have you seen that movie? Anyways, I was off in dreamland when Roni says, “Sally! Wake up! Um, how’s this look? She held it up to me. Oh, she didn’t back over the seam so it began unraveling and I giggled.

“Sorry, that’s not funny,” and I burst out laughing. We all ended up a giggling mess while our neighbors just looked up and stared at us like we were nuts.

“Could you girls keep it down?” One boy said. “We’re trying to study over here.” God, what a stick in the mud. Glad he’s not cute or I woulda been all twisted and confused. Now I can just glare at him with impunity. I glared hard and giggled. I just couldn’t keep it up.

☯

So, morning rolls around and I'm all frantic. What am I gonna wear? Oh my god! Why didn’t I pick something out last night. Oh, what am I thinking? Everythings pretty much the same and I’ve got nothing nice. He liked me the way I was anyway, so calm down. I jumped in the shower and shaved my peach fuzz, washed and conditioned my hair and all that. Then I got out and did all of the regimen my mom taught me. Lotions and unguents and oils, oh my! Giggle. I did think of one thing I could do different. A touch of mascara and a dab of lip gloss. I had some girly stuff, but it was just so I don’t look like an albino. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

This time I chose a pink t-shirt, roommates be damned. I wore the same pink and teal tennis shoes and teal shorts. God, I guess I am a bit girly! These guys are really gonna let me have it! I don’t care, I wanna look as good as I can for Derek. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Joey said with a smirk. “Looks like you fell into the girly pond, Sal.”

I just glared at him, then I finally decided, “Oh, just...shut up! You…bedraggled beer-guzzler you!” My metaphors and descriptives were not getting any better; my English teacher should be fired. But, she probably has tenure or something. I was going off on tangents due to my dis-ease now. Do I have a disease? Is my girliness some kind of terminal mental illness? Sheesh, I should give my scholarship back, I must be a real idiot.

So, I hurried up out of there before I could get bashed by Michael, or Mikey as I like to call him. He’s a lot nicer, though. I don’t think he’s said anything derogatory about me, at least not to my face. Joey pinched my butt as I crossed by his chair where he was eating breakfast. “Eep!”

“What was that for?” I asked with exasperation oozing from every pore.

“You just look so cute, I could eat you up!” I’m sure that was a diss, but I blushed anyway.

“You’re a goof!” Was my best retort.

Phew! I finally made it to the cafeteria after running the gauntlet. Every guy on campus seemed to be hitting on me or doing some sort of creepy ogling. Jeez, I put a little mascara on and brush out my hair and suddenly I’m fair game. Yikes! Derek was seated at a round table near the coffee cart and stood when I came through the door. We smiled at each other simultaneously. What is happening to me? “Hey, Derek,” I cooed.

“Hey yourself, beautiful.” That deserved a proper crimson blush. “What can I getcha?”

“Um, do you think they have a caramel macchiato type thing here?” I asked hopefully. I love the Starbucks one, but at five dollars, I don’t do it very often. That’s a lot for a flippin’ cup of coffee!

“I’ll see what I can do.” He smiled and turned to the cart. A few minutes later he was back with a smile on his face. “One caramel macchiato.”As he set it in front of me he said, “You know, I don’t even know your last name.” His eyes were wide and blue and deep and…”

I practically whispered, “Um, Evangelista. Sal...via Evangelista” I dared to look into his eyes again.

“Wow, that’s a beautiful name, like Linda Evangelista, that old supermodel?” I just nodded.

“What’s yours? I asked. “Last name, I mean.”

“MacKenzie. I know, go ahead and make the joke. Everybody in Canada is named MacKenzie!” He laughed with his eyes laughing, too.

“I didn’t know that,” I admitted.

He chortled. Even his chortles are cute. “It’s just a joke. You’re so funny.”

So we went on like that. Witty repartee, or some semblance thereof, throughout the hour. But it was now getting close to time for my English class. Maybe I should pay more attention, so I can actually punch my way out of a wit paper bag. See? Metaphors. Major suckage. I don’t want Derek to think I’m dumb, cos I’m not. I’ve aced everything since I became a lonely wraith on these arid plains. Ooh, that one was pretty good! “I’m sorry Derek, but I have English in a few minutes. English 101, oh, what are your classes? I forgot to ask.”

“Well, all I know is I have not a single class with the most beautiful girl on campus, and that leaves me bereft.” Sounds like he doesn’t need English classes. Eyeglasses perhaps!

“Maybe we can match up next semester somehow.” I whispered a little dove of hope toward him.

“That would be amazing,” he said. “I’ll look into it. Here…” He reached out his hand. Give me your phone, I’ll put my number in.” I eagerly handed it to him. “Text me.” He said.

I just nodded and put my phone back in my satchel.

“That has to be the coolest looking purse I’ve ever seen. Is that real leather?” I nodded. “And all those nice pockets. Why can’t men use purses?” he asked.

“I dunno. That’s weird.” I hadn’t the heart to tell him it was just a satchel and not a purse and indeed he could own the very same one, if he wanted. Ooh, I’ll buy him one! Ugh, that’s a little premature, Sal, cool your jets! “So, see ya ‘round campus!” I enthused as we stood up. He stepped towards me then gave me a little kiss on my forehead. Oh, that was sweet! I got up on my tippy toes and gave him a kiss on the his stubbly cheek. Nice.

I texted Derek as soon as I got home that afternoon. Luckily my new profile picture is cute. Ronnie took one of me a few days ago when I was looking especially girly. I typed ‘Test, uno, due, tre.’ You know, since I’m Italian and all. Several minutes later he texted back, ‘cool, I didn’t even have to translate it. Italian?’ I texted back, ‘Yep!’ and then ‘how r u?’ God, I was forward. ‘I’m fine, especially fine after seeing you this morning. Glad u texted.’ I smiled. ‘Thanks, me too.’ Then a surprise came from his end. ‘What r u doing Fri?’ I practically bounced in my chair. I responded, ‘One class in morn, then I’m free.’ I saw the wiggly ellipsis going, then he responded, ‘How ‘bout a movie? Either matinee or evening, your choice. That is if you want to. Slapping my head cos I’m an idiot!’ I laughed and Mikey looked up from his book and smiled. ‘U r not! I would love to go! Matinee, I think.’ Omigosh, I’m getting in deep. He thinks I’m a girl; what am I doing? Sigh. ‘Gr8! Pick u up at noon?” Oh, god, I can’t do this! ‘Perfect,’ I replied. ‘C u then!’ Well, what’s a girl to do?

☯

So I went a little girly Friday, just for Derek, of course. I wore my disney tank top with dalmatians on it that says ‘Life is Ruff!’ It’s red with black and white, of course! I wore a black cami under it and wore a pair of black shorts, that look almost like a skirt, and red sandals. Can’t get much girlier than that. My roommates would just have to deal. My hair and nails were looking pretty, so I was standing tall and walking with a spring in my step. I felt really good!

Derek knocked on the door just at noon, straight up. Joey was home, so I was cringing a little, but still really excited. I bounced to the door and opened it to find Derek with a bouquet of flowers in this hand. He held them out to me. “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl.” He said, and I blushed and looked over to Joey, who was spread out like a bum on the sofa. He just laughed his fool head off.

“You know that thing you’re giving flowers to is a dude, right?” He said with a smirk. I stepped over to him and slapped his face. He just looked stunned.

Derek said, “I guess you were told! She’s the sweetest, most beautiful girl on campus and I think you owe her an apology.” Derek straightened up to his full 6’5” and stood right in front of Joey, who looked like a little boy in comparison.

Joey choked a little. “Um, I’m sorry Sally.” Again with the smirk!

“Not good enough!” Derek fairly yelled at him.

“Sorry Sal.” Joey said in a little voice.

“That’s better!” Derek said and turned to me. “Are you okay?”

I did have tears in my eyes, but I nodded anyway. “Um, I need to go put these in water. I didn’t get a chance to thank you. They’re so beautiful.” Your welcome, he said and gave me a kiss on the lips! Omigod! I went all squidgy and mushy, then I pulled him into a bigger, longer kiss and I think I died and went to heaven! Joey was peeking out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say anything, just looked like he ate something gross. I relinquished my hold on Derek and skipped into the kitchen for a vase. I filled it with water and arranged the flowers. I’d never gotten flowers before. What an amazing feeling! And they smell so good. I bounced back over to Derek. “Ready,” I said. “Don’t wait up, Joey!” I jabbed Joey with a little barb; we’re gonna be home by three probably. We turned and walked out the door hand in hand. I thought I could hear a small ‘faggot!’ as we closed the door.

Derek and I decided to go to the cafeteria for lunch as it would be cheaper than a restaurant - my idea! I didn’t want him to spend a fortune on me. Besides, the food is really quite good. We both grabbed pizza and we took a quiet table in the corner. I finally got the nerve to speak. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Please don’t hate me?”

“Tell me what?” He asked, a tad obtusely.

“That I’m, um, a boy.” I whispered. I felt my eyes get moist. Do not cry!

“Oh, that. Well, I did find your old Instagram account. Sorry, by the way.” He really looked a little sheepish. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy I was just curious.”

I giggled. “Privacy, on Insta? I don’t think so! But, I totally forgot about that old account. I bet that was a shock!”

“A little. But you were pretty, even as a young girl.” He grabbed my hand. “And your writing was very interesting, too.” Then he squeezed it.

“I’m not a girl.” I admitted.

“Oh, you most certainly are. But, perhaps you haven’t noticed. Everything about you screams girl. I don’t care what the obstetrician wrote on his little card. You. Are. 100%. Girl.” He squeezed my hand again. I stood up and leaned over the table to give him a kiss; I was crying now. There goes the mascara dammit!

I sat back down and pulled out my compact and dabbed my eyes with a napkin. “You are so sweet.” I whispered. "Um, hey. This is my weekend to go visit my folks. Would you consider going with me? I mean, you could be moral support and maybe distract my father from berating me left and right. Would you be willing…”

“It would be my honor,” he said and it was his turn to lean over the table for a little kiss. This was fun! Well, the kissing bit, not the ‘I’m a boy!’ bit.

So we went to the movie and made a plan for the next day. The movie was amazing! I think. I didn’t really see any of it due to all the kissing and Derek fondling my booblets and all. The first time he tweaked a boob, I shuddered and he said, “See? Girl!” I giggled and practically fell into his lap. We were still kissing when the lights went up. I jerked up, startled, and looked around; everybody had left. So I went back in for some more of Derek's amazing kisses.

We decided to go out for a coffee after and just talked and talked. Then we went out to dinner and talked and kissed. I could get used to this! My lipgloss was getting a workout, though! I texted mom and talked to Derek and we decided to go over early to my parents’ house. I didn’t feel like it was mine anymore. Whatever. When I opened the door to Derek the next morning, Joey just turned away and Mikey smiled and stood.

“Hey! So you’re Derek? You’re the one who stole Sally’s heart, eh?” Mikey was so sweet. “Mike.” He reached out a hand and Derek took it and pumped it a few times, some kind of bro-ey thing.

“You bet I did. Salvia’s a great girl. I’m lucky you all didn’t steal her first, being roommates and all.”

Mike blushed and looked at his feet. “Yeah.” He said quietly, looking back up at me and giving a little smile. “Didn’t know she was available.” I stepped over and gave Mikey a hug. I whispered ‘thank you’ in his ear.

Derek didn’t have a car, so I drove us the 22 miles to my parents’ house. I got a little convertible for my sixteenth birthday and I just loved the little bugger! It was a cool morning, but I put the roof down and turned on the heat. I just love having my hair blowing in the wind. I had my girly sunglasses on and my nails glinted on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help but smile. “What are you smiling about?” Derek asked.

“I just love life right now!” I yelled over the wind. He smiled back.

☯

I knocked on the door when we arrived. I considered what I was wearing - I had on my 'Hello Kitty' T-shirt and pleated white shorts with pink sandals. I smiled, though I was trembling a little. But I had Derek with me. That makes all the difference. I could face anything. I leaned my head into his chest and we hugged. Just then, the door opened. I broke free with a start. “Daddy!” I yelped.

He sneered. “I told you not to call me that!”

“Sorry, Daddy.” I smiled to myself inside. “Daddy, this is Derek. Um, my boyfriend?” I said like a question as I looked up at him.

He nodded. “That’s right, sir. Derek MacKenzie, at your service.” He reached out a hand to my father. Dad just smirked and turned around, leaving us in his dust.

“Told you he’s a jerk.” I said to Derek as we entered the door holding hands.

“Next time I’ll believe you,” he whispered.

After we closed the door, dad turned on me. “You go upstairs and get changed! You look like a damned girl! And wipe that shit off your face!”

“Hey! I’m eighteen. I’m an adult now. I don’t have to obey your commands!” I seethed.

“My house, my rules.” He said. That was one of his well-worn favorite sayings.

Derek turned to me and gave me a hug. “Shall we go? You don’t have to stay and put up with this!” He said. I nodded and we turned hand in hand and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Mom finally appeared, shouting out, glaring at dad. “I’d like to spend some time with my daughter and her boyfriend.”

Dad was speechless and I couldn’t help but smile and give Derek a peck on the lips. I nodded, then glared at dad. Then Derek and I went to the kitchen and sat at the table, hand-in-hand.

"Hi mom. Nice to meet you, I'm Salvia."

The End

 

Synchronicity A Tale of Transformation A Transgender Novelette By Tara Nicole Miller Copyright © 2024 Tara Nicole Miller All Rights Reserved. Word Count 14,150

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I lay in my four-poster bed, cuddled within my gorgeous rose-colored satin sheets, reading “The Synchronicity Key” on my Kindle Oasis for the third time and “The Source Field Investigations” for the fifth. They were massive tomes, as were the other titles in the David Wilcock opus, but I couldn’t get enough of any of them. The idea that the universe is, at its most basic essence, a flow of energy and consciousness was just entirely intriguing, it thrilled me to my core. It felt so true and so right. But we couldn’t see it with our earthly eyes. And thus, wouldn’t believe it. Just like the fact that I knew I was a girl in my most basic essence, truly and rightly, but nobody could see it. All they could see was a poor excuse of a boy, a mask, an act not all that convincing.

I had begun two years ago changing everything around me in hopes that it would somehow make me feel better about being stuck in this horrid body. I’d never had the nerve to come straight out and tell my parents that I’m a girl (not since I was four, anyway), and they’re too wrapped up in their careers and type A personalities to notice me at all, let alone the world around me that was becoming distinctly more feminine despite the fact that my body wasn’t.

I had already gone through most of puberty, hopefully, but for some reason (maybe those prayers I had assumed were going unanswered?) I hadn’t changed all that much. I was still only 5’5”. My voice had lowered slightly, so now it was in the range of Scarlett Johansson rather than Minnie Mouse. My hair was darkening just slightly as well, from its nearly platinum blonde to just a pretty medium blonde with cool platinum highlights. I actually like the new me much better than the old one. Except I hadn’t grown any of the curves I’d been praying for, the breasts, the hips, the butt. Nor had I lost the greatest curve the universe has ever thrown a girl, the penis annoyingly dangling between my thighs. It was pretty small, but it still ticked me off no end. Essentially, I looked like a prepubescent girl with an enlarged clitoris, pardon my French. But my parents, and the story they had told the world when I was born, were hanging on to the illusion of a boy.

But, even to me, the illusion was convincing enough to push me to the precipice of suicide three times in the past. In spite of that, being a magical thinker, I’ve been able to convince myself that there is still a chance that I could become outwardly the girl that I was inwardly. All things considered, I guess things could be worse. Much worse. I could be a big hairy Neanderthal with mean and suffocating evangelical parents. But I was decidedly girly and my parents were very liberal in their views, though I still feared their response once they figured out what was going on. Or I ever got the courage to come straight out with it. We were also quite wealthy and I had a healthy debit account which was added to every month. So, things could definitely be worse.

But it was often hard to think of my blessings, just having had my sweet sixteen with no party. My parents totally forgot it was my birthday and I didn’t have any friends to speak of anyway, except for Amanda next door. She’s been my best (only) friend since we were born. She threw a “party” for me in her basement. “Basement” was a misnomer too, because it was really a 2000 square foot state-of-the-art home theater with all the bells and whistles. The wall-sized TV displayed every new release rom-com available through Prime Video, Netflix, et al. The fridge was loaded with all of our favorite sodas, and the popcorn cart continuously emitted the intoxicating aroma of buttery, theatery popcorn.

We were both giggling, I on the couch with my size sixes on the coffee table, she in a modified lotus position on the floor painting my toenails a sparkly pink. She stopped, leaned on my legs and stared up into my eyes. “Amber? When are you going to tell them?” Amber was the name I decided should have been on my birth certificate, so Amanda used it whenever we were alone. While my real name is unisex, we really didn’t think “Terry” suited me. I was too much of a girly girl for that, she said.

“The real question is, why haven’t they figured it out yet? Why haven’t they said anything?” I whined back.

“Maybe they’re waiting for you?”

“I doubt they even notice I’m there most of the time. Mandy, I don’t think I’ve even had a hug in two years.” More whining eked out of my constricted throat as a single tear trickled down my cheek. Suddenly I was glad we had used waterproof makeup.

“Oh my god, you poor thing! Come here!” She got up and spread her arms as I leaned forward into them, full-on sobs choking out with waterfalls pooling in the nook of my collarbones. Really glad we used waterproof makeup! “I have just the thing to mend a broken heart, and no, I don’t mean ice cream or chocolate.” We both giggled. Then I hiccuped and we both broke out in peals of laughter. “Slumber party!”

“But we always sleep over.” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I will invite the rest of the cheer squad and we’ll have a regular girly girl super slumber party!” She was practically bouncing off the walls.

My mouth hung open for a moment. “But nobody else knows about me, how…?”

She gave me a look that said “oh, puh-lease!” “Amber, are you kidding me with this? Everybody knows!”

“What?”

“Well, you haven’t really been hiding it very well, have you? You really suck at the whole boy thing, truth be told.” She winked at me.

My mouth fell open again. “Everybody?” She nodded vigorously. “No, I’m sure they just think I’m an effeminate gay or something.”

“No, really, they don’t! I promise you.” She looked at me earnestly and then a bit nervously it seemed.

“Why would anyone go straight to girl, bypassing gay? It doesn’t make any sense.” I reasoned.

“Well, maybe the fact that your hair brushes your ass is one indication? If you didn’t use the boy’s bathroom, I don’t think anyone would have had a clue that you were a boy.” She looked at me wide eyed and mine widened with her.

I gave her a little smile. “Really? Wow. That’s actually really cool. You know, about that, the principal recently told me to use the faculty restroom.”

“Really, why?”

“Well, because 90% of the time I get the crap beat out of me, it’s while I’m in the bathroom. I always try to wait till nobody’s in there, but it seems like somebody always comes in on me, or was in a stall, or something. I really hoped it would be okay. But things started to get worse this year.”

“Worse? How could things get worse?” Mandy grabbed my hand. “And what did you hope would be okay?”

“What I was doing.” I began. “I decided, how long’s it been now? Almost two years ago, to start wearing girl things, subtle things, a little at a time to, you know, not raise any suspicions. To not freak people…”

“You began transitioning.” She said matter of factly.

“Trans what now?”

“You’ve never heard about transitioning? You, of all people?” She gave me a wry smile.

“Um, no. What is it? I mean, I know the basic general definition, but what does it have to do with me?”

“Oh, my god!” She laughed. “For being the smartest girl, the smartest human being, I’ve ever known, you can be pretty clueless sometimes.” I just looked down at my nails. They were really pretty. “Trangendered persons, transsexuals,” She indicated me with the wave of an upturned palm, and I figured out what those words meant on my own, what with my knowledge of Latin and all, “go through what they call ‘transitioning’ when they begin outwardly changing from the gender assumed by their birth sex to their true gender. That’s what you’ve been doing.”

I demurely looked up at her. “I didn’t even know it had a name. I was just trying to feel better about things, about me, my life.” Then I stared at her for a moment. “There are other people like me?”

“Of course there are. Believe me, you’re not alone. And how the heck can you not know about this?”

“Why do you?” I retorted.

“I open my eyes. I live, I watch TV, I talk to people, and not least of all, I’m fascinated by you!”

“Oh. Well. I don’t do any of that, I guess. Certainly not the fascination bit.”

“Wow, you really are deprived, aren’t you?” The irony of that wasn’t lost on me as I sat there wearing my new Prada outfit. I took the stilettos off so Amanda could do my nails. I have a T-shirt at home that cost $1000 for god’s sake! But it is really soft and drapes so perfectly…so, don’t judge me too harshly.

But, I didn’t smile at the irony. Or at my gorgeous shoes. I just started crying. And Amanda hugged me again. She whispered, “and I’ve already told you the cure. Let me send a group text to the squad and see when we can all get together for that slumber party. When are you free?” She grinned and winked at me.

“Very funny!” I stuck my tongue out at her and pouted.

*

I put my book down and closed my eyes. Then I asked Alexa what time it was. 4:00pm, she says. I have to be at Mandy’s in an hour. She told me to do only minimal makeup and not to be too fancy with my hair. She said I would see why later. “Alexa, play ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons.” The house began to shake with the deep bass as I began to shake my booty over to the vanity I had delivered a few weeks ago from Amazon. I don’t know what took me so long, it’s so much easier to do my makeup now!

I didn’t shower, since I’d had one this morning. I’m not an active person, and I don’t really do the whole going outside thing, so I never got sweaty or disheveled or anything. So I just brushed a little powder on my face, and some darker eyeshadow; I added one more coat of mascara and chose a little darker lipstick than the nude color I wear for everyday. Okay, a lot darker. I thought I looked pretty cute, considering. Then I just brushed out my hair and let it flow loose down my back.

Mandy said to just wear leggings and a t-shirt (not the Prada, she says!) and maybe ballet flats or just a pair of trainers. She said to bring pajamas, both a sexy pair and a cute pair. And to wear a bra if I had one. Of course I have one. What, am I new? And bring one stuffed animal. I’ll bring Geordie, my bear with the nightcap on, holding a little pillow in his arms. I can’t sleep without him. I know I’m too old for it, but it’s comforting. So sue me.

I threw my bunny slippers in my string bag as well, cos I like to be a little quirky sometimes. She didn’t say to, but I also decided to bring my makeup case, because I have tons of stuff I can share and also I want my own of those things you’re not supposed to share. Hey, I’ve watched movies with Amanda for a long time, so I have an idea that we’ll be doing makeovers tonight. Well, I’m hoping, anyway. My parents weren’t home yet, as per usual, so I just locked the doors and wandered over to Mandy’s.

I was the first girl there, so I could help Mandy and her mom set up for the party. Her mom is so cool. She heard Mandy call me Amber one time and she just immediately switched over from Terry to Amber. So, that was weird, but also mega cool. She has never said a word or questioned me or anything. I don’t get it, but I’m certainly not gonna complain. She’s known me almost as long as my own parents have, but I guess she’s a bit more intuitive than they are. Or she just notices the obvious, unlike some people I could name. Whatever.

Then the other girls started arriving. Each one had a wrapped package in her hand and each one said to me “happy sweet sixteen Amber!” and gave me a hug before bouncing down the stairs. I was in shock, to say the least. I don’t know how long it was before I got my jaw up off the floor. I looked over at Mandy and she just smiled and winked at me.

“What’s happening?” I whispered to Mandy.

She whispered back, “I know it’s belated, by a week, but we all thought you deserved a kick-ass sweet sixteen. You only turn sixteen once, after all.” She winked again. “Come on.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me downstairs.

She fired up “Believer” for me and the entire house shook. She didn’t play the music video because she knows I hate it, but she also knows that “Believer” is like one of my theme songs. It used to be “I Dreamed a Dream” by the Glee Cast, but that’s too somber for me these days. We all began dancing and Mandy bounced right in front of me. “Happy sweet sixteen bestie!” She yelled over the music. Then she gave me a big long hug until the next song in the queue began, then danced away to the beat of “Thunder” by, you guessed it, Imagine Dragons.

After that, she played the playlist of our favorite songs, featuring Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and Jax. “Victoria’s Secret” began playing and all the girls started pulling off their bras. I totally got the meaning, but I really didn’t want to take mine off. I think they probably understood why. But they all began chanting “take it off, take it off!” Mandy came over with a little smile and whispered. “It’s okay, they all know you’re a late bloomer. We’ve all been there. Besides, you’ll have to take it off before bed anyway.” Couldn’t I wait till then? My eyes beseeched her. But, she can read my mind. She said, “please? I promise it’s okay.” So, off it came. I flung it on the sofa to a chorus of cheers and I just blushed.

The pizzas arrived a little after seven and Mandy’s mom brought them down to us. She set them all down on the bar, then handed me the vegetarian pizza. Am I the only vegetarian here? Ovopiscetarian is the proper term for my type. Whatever, but why hand it to me? I set it down on the coffee table and opened it up. There was an envelope that said “Virgin” on it. Is this some kind of a joke? An innuendo, not so subtle? I frowned and opened it anyway. There was a plane ticket in it from Virgin Airways - Ah, so, it wasn’t a joke. I breathed a sigh of relief and the redness of my embarrassment drained from my face. Mandy’s mom was still there, now facing me on the other side of the table. I looked up at her with a confused expression.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked, with a look of concern on her face.

“I…don’t understand.” I answered.

“Well, what does it say?”

“I think it’s a ticket to Cairo on…December 16th? Why? What’s it for? Is it real?” I was really quite confused and rambling.

“Of course it’s real, sweetie. But, don’t worry, you’re not going alone. I asked your parents and we, Amanda’s father and I, are taking you and Mandy to Egypt over Christmas break.”

Mandy chimed in, “I sorta told them that you’re obsessed with like the ancient Egyptians and the pyramids and stuff.”

I just nodded blankly. Then I came out of my fugue state and ran over to Mandy’s mom, giving her a great big hug. “Oh my god, Mrs. Jamison, I - I can’t believe it! This is amazing! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Mandy came over and joined in the hug. She whispered, “we’re gonna have so much fun!” I nodded and smiled and continued to stare at the ticket as I plopped down on the reclining sofa. Oooh, so mushy.

Mandy fired up the karaoke machine and she and I, Tamara and Ginny sang a couple of Spice Girls songs together. As “Wanna Be” was wrapping up, Mandy looked at me seemingly awestruck about something.

“What is it?” I inquired.

“Oh my god Amber, your voice is amazing!”

“What? No. I mean, how could you tell anyways, what with singing something so silly and fun? Doesn’t really take much of a voice, I wouldn’t think.” I was blushing hard and backpedaling harder.

“Oh stop it!” Mandy pushed my shoulder. She looked around and said “can this girl sing, or what?! Who wants to hear her do Adele?” Cheers went up.

Mandy couldn’t have known it, but I had discovered a few months ago that my sultry new voice was nicely suited to Adele songs. I of course only sang them in the privacy of my own bedroom. It never crossed my mind that I was actually any good. I blushed again as Mandy pushed me to the front and I realized I would be singing solo in front of twelve other girls. The most popular girls in the school, and I am just…well, me. She pulled up the Adele playlist and said “pick one!”

I tucked my long blonde hair behind my ear and leaned in to see the screen, getting redder all the time. Am I really going to do this? I could just say the pizza didn’t agree and run to the bathroom, or home, or to Kazakhstan. Instead, with a shaky finger, I tapped on “Easy on Me.” As the piano intro began, I slowly wandered to the microphone, keeping my head tilted down, my hair hanging forward as I grabbed the mic with both hands. I closed my eyes and began softly. When I got to the chorus “Go easy on me…” I looked up and into the eyes of Amanda. We were both crying. I looked at each of the girls in turn as I sang the chorus. They all stood stunned, swaying, some with tears glistening in their eyes.

When the song ended, I hung my head, then looked up through my lashes sheepishly and I could see twelve girls approaching with arms out. It was the biggest group hug ever as we all sobbed. Then Amanda, in all her wisdom, said “hey! This is supposed to be a party, right? And I don’t mean a pity party!” She tapped on “You need to Calm Down” by Taylor Swift and the room got silly, but Amanda just grabbed me and held me for nearly the entire song. She whispered in my ear. “You’re amazing. Thank you for being my friend.”

“Okay! I think we all need to fix our makeup now, thanks to this one.” Amanda lightly shoved my shoulder. “What do you think, makeover time?” A chorus of “Yeah”s and variations thereof chimed around the room.

It seemed like they all considered me their Barbie doll, because they all wanted a hand in my transformation. None of them had seen me all dolled up and it seemed they were pretty excited by the idea. Instead of everybody working on everybody else all at the same time, they focused on me, first doing my makeup, then my hair, then they even wanted to dress me! “But all I brought are jammies,” I whined.

“Jammies.” Amanda imitated me. “You are so cute! Let me go get something from my closet. BRB!”

Of course, it had to be a dress, but I wasn’t going to complain. I loved wearing dresses, but Mandy and her mom were the only ones allowed to see me in one up to this point. My nerves had gone and I was just embarrassed at all the attention being lavished on me. She held up a gorgeous Dolce & Gabbana dress with one hand and held a pair of Manolo Blahnik stilettos in the other. She had a pair of nude hose draped over her shoulder and a massive smile upon her adorable face. I blushed. “Now, these are strictly for dress-up, or going to the country club. We really need to take you slumming some time.”

“Slumming?” Confused much?

“Yeah. Teen girls don’t wear all the stuff like Prada and D&G. You look like a 29 year old super model in your clothes.”

“Is that so bad?” I wondered.

“If you want to fit in? We need to get you to AE, Hollister, A&F.” American Eagle, Abercrombie and Fitch. I knew the names - but I told her I preferred Guess, if we were going that route. “Guess? No! Say it ain’t so!”

“What’s wrong with Guess? Their stuff is really cute!” I was perplexed.

“They’re just so…too… perfect, too sweet, too girly girl!” She wasn’t making any sense to me now.

“Do you realize that you’ve called me precisely those three things, just this week?” I had her there.

“You’ve got me there, I guess.” She’s reading my mind again. I giggled. “Maybe you can pull it off. Not many girls can. Whatever. Let’s have some fun!”

Amanda put on “Made You Look” by Meghan Trainor and I smiled. Anonymous hands flew, removing my top and leggings, then I heard a gasp and they all seemed to freeze in place. Thank god I had snuck my bra back on when I went to the bathroom. Then murmurs and squeals began. “Oh my god, where did you get them, they’re gorgeous!” Fingers slid around and under my lace bra and panties, admiringly, gasping. Phew! I thought they were going to focus on my silicone enhancers, or those tucked bits between my legs.

“Just Vickies,” I said, nonchalantly. “Nowhere special, I promise.” I blushed for the thousandth time this evening.

“Victoria’s Secret? I haven’t seen those there!” Tammy whined.

“They’re new.” I said. “Can I please get dressed now?” Everybody laughed as Amanda lifted the dress above my head.

“Careful, we don’t want to muss her makeup!” Amanda ordered. Then “Wow! Wait, okay, shoes!”

I slipped into the “Manny’s” and began to strut expertly as if on a catwalk, kicking out my hip as I turned.

“What the fuck! She’s hotter than all of us combined!” Tammy blurted.

“No shit! Not fair!” Gina added.

Loads of giggles followed as we all began to work on all the other girls. I was glad to get the attention off me, but that was kinda cool, I have to admit.

When it was time for pajamas, I felt I had no choice but to cheat. I went into the bathroom and replaced my lacy bra with a soft bralette, so I could keep my enhancers in. I didn’t want to be flat in a room full of curvaceous cheerleaders. That would be way too embarrassing. We were then all told to place our bras on our sleeping bags. “What’s that about?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” Amanda replied. Okay, whatever.

Everybody grabbed a popcorn and a soda and took up their positions around the room. Then Amanda began what was supposed to be a playlist of chick flicks to play on into the night. The intro to “The Crying Game” began and I screamed, red faced. “That is so not funny!” I slapped Amanda on the leg, then I dove on her and began tickling her. Then all the others girls joined in, seemingly taking the embarrassing moment in good humor. Ooh, Good Humor. “Amanda, you got ice cream?” I giggled.

She just said, “duh!” and ran to the freezer, pulling out thirteen half-pints of Haagen Dazs and thirteen spoons.

I grabbed the chocolate/chocolate chip, laid down against the foot of the sofa and began moaning. “Oh my god, this is soooo good. Mmmm…”

“I think she’s having an orgasm!” Amanda blurted as she bounced into her spot next to me.

I gasped and leaned my shoulder into her, whispering loudly, “I hate you!”

“No you don’t. You love me!”

“Yeah.” I conceded, smiling and dipping back into my orgasmic ice cream.

Okay. I saw what the bra thing was all about around one A.M. when Loren began snoring over by the bar. Mandy put her finger to her lips and tip-toed over to pick up Loren’s bra. She ran it under the the tap in the bar, then placed it in the freezer.

“Oh my god, that’s so mean.” I whispered, when Mandy came back to lay next to me.

“Hey. She knew the rules. She fell asleep first. Not my fault.” Amanda resumed her position snuggled up to me. I set Geordie on her belly and she giggled. We whispered into the night. Amanda asked, “I noticed you shaved your bikini area. Did you know what was going to happen?”

“No. I had no clue.” I told her. “But I didn’t shave.” She looked confused. “I get laser treatments now and again to keep up with any stray hairs. Under my arms, too, look.” I showed her.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, running her fingers under my arms. Oh my, that tickled. “What a great idea. I never knew. Can I go with next time, please?”

“Of course,” I smiled.

“You get your face done, too, I suppose.” She continued.

“Nope. This smooth baby’s bottom is all natural, thank god.” I ran my fingers over my cheek and winked at her.

“That is lucky. But, what if your luck runs out? I mean, you still have boy bits, right?” She blushed.

I blushed back, one-upping her. “Yeah. I guess I am pushing my luck, aren’t I? You know more about this transition stuff than I do, weirdly enough. So, what do I do?”

“As I understand it, you get an androgen blocker first, and then you follow that up with female hormones, some kind of estrogen.” She looked at me earnestly. “But you need a doctor. Thus, you need to tell your parents.”

I tensed up. “I suppose. Isn’t there another way? I’m hoping?”

“Not legal, or safe. Just tell them. I doubt they could very well be surprised.”

“You don’t know how they are.” I whined. “You think I’m clueless…They’re the poster children, I swear.” Amanda nudged me.

“I’ve got an idea.” She says. Oh no, not another idea. Although it’s all been pretty cool so far.

She reassured me, then we decided to get some sleep.

After breakfast, before the girls left for their Saturdays, they decided to Barbie me up again. All part of the plan, Amanda says. I thought it was probably best as I didn’t want to go through any real masculine pubertal surprises. I was pushing my luck already. They didn’t turn me into a runway model again. Just a pretty high school girl. Amanda talked me into wearing her cheer uniform. Didn’t take much coaxing really. “Oh my god! You need to join the squad, girl! You look so hot!” Gina teased.

“Please. Even I know there’s more to cheerleading than just the skirt! I’ve practiced with Amanda a few times and I so know it’s not that easy!” I looked so earnest that Gina laughed at me. I also thought how they all seemed like gymnasts, too, and how that would be a great way for me to finally get some exercise. I’ll have to look up somewhere that I can learn gymnastics. Might be fun. I smiled.

“Well, keep practicing. Maybe next year. I’m serious. We’d all love you there, wouldn’t we?” Gina looked around to a chorus of agreement and nodding heads.

I whispered to Amanda, “They do know about me, right?” She just nodded, smiling.

*

Okay. So this was all part of the plan. I walked across the cool mid-August grass and through my front door. I could hear mom and dad in the kitchen. Will miracles never cease? What, no work today? I walked slowly toward the kitchen and took a deep breath before peeking around the corner. They were sharing coffee and working on the New York Times crossword puzzle. My New York Times crossword puzzle. How dare they? Wait. Focus, Amber.

I sauntered in and went to the fridge, pretending to get something out. “Good morning Mommy, Daddy. Don’t forget I have practice today.” I turned around with a juice box and tried to pop the straw through the top. Gawd, not easy, you try it! They both looked up for a moment, then went back to their puzzle.

“Morning, sweetie.” That was all they said. Mom took a sip of her coffee and pointed at the puzzle.

“Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” I squeaked.

“Hah! We’re just funnin’ ya. Come here! You look so cute! Doesn’t she look cute, hon?” Mom glanced at my dad.

“You do! When did you join cheerleading? Why didn’t you tell us?” Dad seemed serious.

I stood with my mouth agape. Mom said, “Close your mouth dear. It’s not ladylike. Was there something on your mind?” She looked serious, too. What was happening?

“Um, how long have you known? Why did you never say anything?” I whined. I was good at whining.

Mom stood up and began, “Well, this is new.” Waving a hand over me. “But we’ve always thought you being girly was just, well, you! But we’ve never seen the full you, have we? Till now, that is.” She winked.

“So, are you okay with it? What does this all mean? I mean, I’m really confused, because I thought I had to hide. I’ve been a wreck. I’ve been doing this all alone!” More very good whining on my part.

“Yes, of course we’re okay with it. I work for the ACLU every Friday, you know. And working with kids like you, I guess I should have known better. I should have been there for you. I am so so sorry sweetie. Can you forgive me?”

I stared for a good ten seconds. “Yeah. I guess so. I mean, of course I forgive you, but you’ve never been around; you never talk to me. Not really. I thought you didn’t care.”

“Everything we do, all the work we do is because we care and we want to give you a good life. I guess we’ve just been really stupid, practically narcissistic in our goal oriented behavior. Did we pick the wrong goals? God!” Mom began crying. I ran into her arms. She hugged me tight and whispered. “We just thought the hands-off approach might be good for you. I mean you do get perfect grades and I’ve never seen you do anything wrong, so we thought it was working.”

I backed up and began to cry. “Working!? I’ve felt like I’ve been living alone and nobody cared about me! You’ve never been to my school and I’ve been beat up like 97 times in two years! Hands off?!” I laughed and choked and sobbed and sat down hard with my head in my hands. My makeup had to be a wreck now.

Mom’s hand flew to her mouth. Mom and dad both stood up, now with their mouths agape. “97 times?” My dad whispered. “Amber, sweetie, why didn’t you tell us? We never knew. The school never called, did they hon?” He looked at mom and she shook her head.

“They never…? Wait. Did you say ‘Amber?’ How did you know about that?” I puzzled.

“Amanda called this morning. That’s actually why we made sure to stay put. That’s how we knew to play dumb.” Dad smiled.

“You guys suck, you know that?” I went in for the hug.

Mom whispered into my ear, “sorry about your crossword.” I just smiled and hugged tighter. “Come on, let’s go talk.” She led me out into the garden. It was still blooming wildly and was gorgeous in the morning sun. We sat in the wicker loungers.

“I wish I woulda known you guys would be okay with this, I woulda done this a lot sooner.” I spoke softly.

“Done what sweetie?” Dad asked.

“This.” I said, standing up, indicating my outfit. “I coulda gone full out girly girl a long time ago. Instead, I’ve been hiding in the closet.”

“Hardly hiding.” Mom said. “True, you’ve not gone full out, and I’m sorry, but we’ve known you were girly. Well, very girly. And we love that about you.” Mom looked pensive. “You know, I’ve represented several trans girls over the years. Do you know what you are? How far you want to go with this?”

“Of course I know. I’ve always known. I’m a girl. But until last week, I didn’t know there was anything I could do about it, other than pretend.” I lowered my head.

“There’s a lot that can be done about it. What has Amanda told you? Would you like to do something about it now?” Mom leaned in.

“Yes, please.” I whispered.

*

Mom, being a lawyer, knew what to do and things became a whirlwind. It was now just one week until school started for my junior year, but she was determined to get it all sorted so I could start as Amber on the first day. I was excited and terrified, if I’m honest. She got me into the endocrinologist that Monday, somehow. Oh, and Dad, being a psychiatrist, wrote the referral (is that even kosher?). I realize how lucky I am in this regard. Most girls would have to wait ages for all this stuff, but my parents knew how long I had been this way, so had no qualms whatsoever making it happen. So I got an estrogen shot in my butt and started the androgen blocker that night (they had to be bending some rules, right?). The endo said it was unusual to do it this way, but since the tests came out good, he didn’t seem to think there would be any problems. That Friday, I was already in a courtroom getting my name changed to Amber. Can you see me smiling? Well, I am.

Mom drove me and Amanda to school the following Monday. Mom told me how upset she was that I already had a complete wardrobe, as she would have loved to have gone shopping with her daughter. Oh well, it was her own fault for never talking to me! And giving me a massive debit card balance with access to Amazon, among other online stores, like Dolce, et al. Ooh, and thredUP! So, she took me into the office and I said goodbye to Amanda as she went to our first class. We had creative writing together. I know, cool, right?

The principal seemed relieved that all we wanted to do was change my name and, oh yes, my gender marker. She seemed pleased to do so, as now I could use the girls’ restroom. She didn’t even bat an eye at my new look. She knew me all too well by now. Perhaps she thought all this would lead to fewer bullying incidents. Hope springs eternal. But, I sure didn’t expect the bruising to slow down any. Mrs. Bryant gave me a hall pass and six copies of the record change notification, with an explanatory cover letter. I was to give one to each teacher on my schedule.

Since I was a half-hour late for my first class, roll had already been called. After I handed Mrs. Simonds the papers, she addressed the class. “Class, this is Amber.” “Hi Amber,” half the class responded. The other half were too stunned.

I shrugged my shoulders and said “I got sick of Terry,” with a little smile. There we a few laughs at that.

“Go ahead and take your seat, dear.” Mrs. Simonds said, then returned to the lesson.

There were a few whispers and a couple giggles, but all in all, that went pretty well. I sat next to Amanda and we both smiled to each other. She said, “that went well.”

I whispered back, “that’s just what I was thinking.” And I let out a huge breath of relief.

After class, Amanda and I strolled to our lockers. Admin had finally put us right next to each other. So she always had my back. As we got close, some guy said “hey, faggot, how come you don’t visit us in the boys’ bathroom anymore?”

Amanda was quick with a retort: “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Too little to see in there, though! And I mean little!” She said crooking her pinkie at him. He just flushed and stormed off.

“Wow, that was pretty cool of you. Quick thinking, too. I was never good at comebacks.” I smiled at her.

“Well, you’re gonna have to learn. That’s one of the sharpest arrows in a girl’s quiver.” She said with a wink.

“God, I kinda wish I never had to go to the bathroom before. That’s just really set me up hasn’t it?”

“Not much you coulda done about it. A girl’s gotta pee. It’ll work out, you’ll see.” She winked again. I never realized what a winker she was. Don’t her eyelid muscles get sore?

“I wish I had your confidence, Mandy.”

“You’ll get there. C’mon gorgeous, we’ll be late.”

*

Amanda and I only saw each other at our lockers between classes until lunch time. We walked into the cafeteria and I began going over to my regular table to eat alone in the corner, with the kids that don’t speak English (I think they may have been Vietnamese, but I can’t be sure) at the other end of the table. I always enjoyed listening to their unusual sing-song speech. Not much else to do sitting there for half an hour by myself. But Amanda grabbed my arm. “Now that you’ve met the girls, I think it’s time you joined us, don’t you?”

“Um,” was all I could think to say. I can be pretty eloquent at times.

Amanda announced, “Hey, look who’s finally gonna join the cool table!” Gina smiled and scooched over one seat so Amanda and I could sit together.

“It’s about time. Glad you finally rid yourself of those cooties, Amber.” Tammy winked and smiled. “You did, didn’t you?” She feigned an earnest expression.

It didn’t take long for the conversation to get onto what I assume was a normal tack. General gossip, then boys. “So, who do you like, Amber? Are you going with anybody?” Jessica asked while popping a french fry into her mouth.

Amanda elbowed me and gave me a sly grin. “Tell her. Enquiring minds want to know.”

I blushed. “I don’t know. David Keller is pretty nice. He’s in my calculus class.”

“Oooh. Is he cute?” Amanda prodded.

“You take calculus?” Gina yelped with a stunned expression.

“Yes to both,” I said, blushing. I don’t know which revelation embarrassed me more.

“Yes, she takes calculus. And physics. My girl is wicked smart, aren’t you, Amber?” Amanda nudged me again. All this teasing is gonna give me a complex, I thought. But, it’s way better than being alone trying to decipher Vietnamese or whatever.

“Fuck calculus! Tell us about Da-vid.” Jessica sang at me with a wicked grin.

Wow, she just swore! That’s kinda cool, I thought. “We sit at the same table. He’s kinda got that messy kinda hair that he sometimes has to brush out of his eyes. It’s so adorable.” I blushed. “He’s pretty smart, but he still asks me for my help sometimes. I kinda like that.”

“I bet you do!” Jess winked. “So, have you gone out?” She nonchalantly popped another fry in her mouth.

I dropped my head. “No, I’ve never been on a date.”

“With anyone? Ever?”

“With anyone. Ever.” I started to cry and Amanda gave me a hug. That line of inquiry seemed to lose some steam then, thank god. But, I must say, that was the best lunch period in the history of lunch periods! I left with a smile on my lips and in my heart. I was now heading to my newly infamous calculus class. I smiled again.

First, the girls dragged me into the girls’ room and made me check my makeup. Oh. Even with waterproof makeup I had a bit of a racoon thing going on. I guess it wasn’t tear-proof. Amanda then whispered at me. “Hurry if you have to pee and don’t forget to sit.”

I whispered back, “I’ve been sitting to pee my whole life, silly.”

“Oh,” is all she said. Finally it was her turn to blush.

After all the talk about David at lunch, I was kinda looking forward to seeing him. I started to get butterflies, with a few locusts thrown in. I paused at the door to the AP Calculus class and took a deep breath. I sat next to David and gave him a little sideways peek through my bangs. He was staring at me, then he blushed and opened his text book.

Roll call came, and when I responded to Amber, David stared again. “Amber?” He whispered. I just nodded demurely. “I like it,” he said, “it suits you.”

I just smiled and said “thanks.”

“How was your summer?” He asked me. This was new. He usually only talked to me about math stuff. “By the way, you look really pretty today.”

I gave him a little smile and blushed, looking back down at my nails.

He continued. “Your nails look really pretty, too. I like the color, and those little stars are cool.” I think he was blushing again.

“Thanks,” I finally responded. “My summer was kinda boring. How ‘bout you?”

He told me about his summer until Mr. Janofski cleared his throat to quieten us down to begin class. When class ended, David touched my forearm, sending shivers from my solar plexus to my pelvis. “See you tomorrow, Amber.”

“Yeah, um, see you tomorrow.” I gulped. “David.” I stayed, glued to my chair, as I watched David’s fine behind walk toward the door. He turned, gave me a little smile, then exited.

“Amber?” Mr. Janofsky woke me from my reverie.

“Yes, Mr…? Oh. Right. Bye Mr. Janofsky! Cool class.” I gave him a big smile and left. Cool class? Kill me now.

*

Mom picked up Amanda and me after school. I didn’t notice her at first, because she was in a cool new car. It was a really pretty pearlized lavender color. “Wow, somebody got lucky!” I blushed, realizing the innuendo. “Cool car, Mom!”

“Yeah, it’s a 2024 BMW M4 convertible, obviously.” She looked up, gestured with her hands, and grinned at the lack of a roof. “Do you like the color?”

“It’s gorgeous!” I enthused.

“Good.” She said, as she got up and exited her door. “Because it’s yours!” She tossed me the key fob. “Happy birthday, baby girl. Sorry it’s a little late. You don’t mind, do you?” She smiled, then put on an earnest face.

“Mind? Are you kidding me?” I squealed and ran around the car, passing mom before I stopped and turned around. I went back to give her a big hug. “Thanks Momma. This is so amazing.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I am so sorry it’s late.” I just looked up at her and smiled a liquid smile, nodding.

I continued around, hopping into the driver’s seat. “But, I haven’t driven since Drivers Ed. That’s like five months ago.” I worried.

“No worries. The way you and Amanda play those racing games, I’m sure you’re a master.” Mom smiled. I wasn’t about to tell her that I doubted the skills of MarioKart were really transferable to the real world, but, whatever.

So I just smiled back at her and adjusted the rearview mirror, taking a peek at Amanda in the backseat. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. “Mandy! Did you know about this?”

She just shook her head and said “Nope. Full speed ahead captain! Warp 5!”

“Warp 5. Engage!” I giggled.

“You two watch way too much of those star wars treks.” Mom smiled and shook her head.

Amanda and I yelled “Star Trek!” Simultaneously. “But I getta be Counsellor Troi tomorrow!” I looked at Amanda in the rear view mirror and she yelled “you got it, girl!” “Make it so!” I put on my turn signal and pulled into traffic. Wow. This is fracking awesome!

*

After I parked the car in the garage - I got the third space, my very own space! - Amanda and I jumped out and squealed our way into the house. “That was so cool!” She squeaked.

“I know!” I had to agree. We grabbed each other’s hands and jumped up and down like a couple of absolute lunatics.

Behind me, I heard “so, did you have a good day?”

I turned around, shocked. “Daddy? What are you doing home?”

“Well, I didn’t want to miss your special day. I don’t want to miss anymore special days. From now on, my little girl comes first.” He smiled down at me. Then winked at mom.

“Oh Daddy!” I grabbed him around the waist and began to cry. “Thank you, Daddy.” I whispered a sob.

He smiled and let out a wistful sigh, whispering, “Daddy’s little girl.” And he hugged me tight, a single tear trickling down his stubbled cheek.

*

That evening, I stood in front of the mirror with my top off. It had only been a week, but I wanted to see if I was getting any boobies yet. Nothing, of course. Except the bit of gynecomastia I had already. I sighed. I slipped on my pink satin cami and shorts sleep set and ran downstairs. Mom and Dad were waiting for me in front of the TV. We hadn’t watched TV together in, well, it seemed like forever. I picked Daddy first, for some reason. I crawled onto the sofa next to him and cuddled into his side. He had a musky scent that made me want to hug him. “So, what are we watching?”

“Well, it’s your day,” mom replied, “so you choose, sweetie.”

I had a blank look on my face and I realized that I don’t know anything about TV shows anymore. “Um, does anyone know what’s good these days?” We all giggled.

“How ‘bout a game, instead?” Dad offered. “What about Scrabble? Anyone?”

“Oh my god, Michael, are you serious? Amber would trounce us!” Mom looked mock horrified. Or was that real fear? I giggled.

“Well, it is her night. I think a good trouncing is the order of the day. Whaddya say?” Dad smiled at me and I jumped to run over to the game cabinet. Why we have a game cabinet, I don’t know, because I don’t remember the last time anyone around here played a board game. “Bored” game, dad used to call it. But I wasn’t gonna argue, and I did plan on trouncing them, but good.

As I laid down a 7-letter word, I asked them, “do you think I could start taking gymnastics classes? I think I could probably use the exercise.”

Mom and dad looked at me with a bit of surprise. Dad went first. “I don’t see why not, do you hon?” He looked at mom with his eyebrows raised.

“No, I think that would be great, but honestly the only time I’ve seen you exercise is when you’re playing a game on the Wii. Do you think you can do it baby?” I loved it when mom called me baby.

“Well, not sure really. But, how ‘bout this? We check to see about where and when there are classes and I take the next month to work out on our stuff downstairs? Maybe Daddy can show me how to use all that alien ware?” I giggled. We have a supremely kitted out exercise facility in the “basement” that I have never touched. I haven’t a clue what any of it is, if I’m honest. I’ve only used the pool and hot tub next door to it, separated by a glass wall. Oooh, I just realized I could have been using the pool for exercise all these years, instead of just lounging around under the sun lamps; weird. “And maybe Mommy can teach me how to swim?”

“Sure sweetie,” they said in stereo. We all giggled. Then Mom asked, “so, why the sudden interest in exercise? It’s so unlike you. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s really important for you to stay healthy. Just curious why now, I guess?”

“We-ll. You remember that slumber party I had with all the other girls?” (Gosh, how I loved being able to say ‘other girls’). They nodded. “Well, they’re all cheerleaders. We got to talking, and I know it’s not really possible with me being so out of shape. Plus, they’ve been doing cheer and gymnastics since they were little. So, I probably would never be able to actually be a cheerleader, but they were all so cool and fun and they love it so much and they wanted me to join - you guys, they actually like me, and they said I’m really pretty!” I blushed after finishing my mile-a-minute ramble.

“You’ve always been pretty.” Dad pulled me into a hug.

I pushed away to look at him. “Puh-lease! You’re just saying that because that’s what parents have to say about their kids.”

He pulled me back in. “That’s not true, I promise. I’ve always thought you were very pretty, and honestly it’s confused me, because I thought I remembered having a son the day you were born. I was so proud. But, it’s pretty obvious, I remembered wrong. And sweetie, I could not be any prouder of you and calling you my beautiful daughter.” He held me out and gave me a wan smile.

I couldn’t have been more embarrassed, so I just buried myself into him and mumbled, “I’ve really missed you Daddy.”

Mom smiled. “She’s obviously a Daddy’s girl.” I just nodded my head against his chest and let out a little whimper.

*

So Daddy had me doing mainly cardio training stuff and stretches, because he thought it was best to wait until my hormones were at a steady level for a few months before doing any weight training. But, that was cool, because I was able to go longer and longer each day on those machines. Plus, the one machine has a video screen that takes you on walks all around the world. I think I’ve walked the whole of London and Paris by now. So that’s cool. Plus the stretching has been enlightening. I was really taut at the beginning and now I can actually do the splits! I showed Amanda one day and her mouth dropped open, so that was pretty funny.

Plus, Amanda wanted to spend more time with me, so she actually got me out of the house and into the real world. We ran around the neighborhood and I was so surprised at all the big, beautiful homes and gardens, right in my own back yard, so to speak. I never really paid any attention, but we live in a really great place. It’s just gorgeous. Apparently there’s a lot of famous people that live around here, too, so that’s pretty cool, I guess.

When the weather started getting colder, Amanda and I moved back into the gym. We made sure to make it fun, so we put on our favorite work-out music videos and had smoothies and other treats to reward ourselves after. After three months I was definitely in the best shape of my life. I was even starting to get boobies, so I began wearing a sports bra. I don’t think anyone but another trans girl could ever know the excitement of that moment. I was so happy, but, honestly, I wanted it to be happening way faster.

My skin was getting even softer than I thought it was before and I was getting some change in my body fat distribution, but I could only really tell because my clothes were beginning to fit me better, being girl’s clothes and all. But that dang penis was always there to remind me and bring me down even on my best days. I could never be like a natural born girl and that made me really sad. I got pretty depressed sometimes wondering what guy would ever want me even with that thing being gotten rid of? I could never have kids, and that made me sob as much as anything. Some guy would be making a real sacrifice if he decided to fall in love with me. But that was hard to imagine at this point. Why would anyone fall in love with me? I couldn’t fathom.

I wasn’t asked to homecoming or anything, and I was really hoping that David would ask, but I couldn’t blame him. Surely he knows I’m not physically a proper girl, even if he has been flirting with me. I love that bit, btw. Dad was starting to get really worried about me with my mood swings. Maybe it was the hormones, but I knew there was more going on in my head. He now thought it was a really good idea to try to become a cheerleader next year. It’s like the girliest sport there is, after all. He thought it would help my self esteem. If I made the squad, that is.

He referred me to one of his colleagues who specializes in gender issues. He said she has a PhD and is young and really sweet and caring, so we should get along great. But, with the trip to Egypt coming, we held off on that as well as the gymnastics. But, Amanda was teaching me stuff in the meantime. So that was nice. It was hard to stay upbeat, even with the trip coming up. So I just moped my way into my now fully feminized bedroom. Even in a bad mood it made me feel better and the smallest of smiles always seemed to come unbidden to my lips. It was hard to stay pissy in here.

I plopped down on my really fluffy comforter and wiggled softly into it, grabbing my Oasis to read the next chapter in “Source Field.” It was the one about the strange experiment by a guy called Gariaev that left the energetic imprint of DNA in a quartz container even when the DNA was removed and there was nothing “physical” there. The DNA imprint stayed there for up to 30 days after the actual DNA was removed! Very cool. So, essentially, the DNA molecule stores light. I guess it’s kinda like when you fill a box with snow, even when you remove the box, the shape of the box remains for a while until the snow melts.

There were tests about growing different creatures when shining light by laser through DNA crystals in a certain way. I know I said that wrong, but it was something like that. It was all so cool and I wondered why this wasn’t all made common knowledge? So one species can be turned into another species just by shining a certain wavelength of light through the DNA? Too cool. Light could also heal, not only the DNA, but whole organs and ultimately the whole organism. I’m guessing pharma and the medical folks want to keep all this a secret. So, why are they allowing this book? Oh, I don’t know, it all makes my head hurt.

So, with the trip to Egypt coming up, I decided to flip to the chapter on the pyramids. Give my mind a break. But, it turns out I’m seeing more of the same fascinating energy concepts, just in a different light (yes, pun totally intended). The pyramids may be an ancient technology (I’m guessing the Atlanteans built it, but, that’s just me) that focuses healing energy. A cool idea was beginning to form in my mind. I read on and began to formulate my plan. Having a plan, a goal, was pulling me out of my funk, and I was ever so grateful.

After all the big changes happening with my family, my parents decided to ask if they could come along on the trip with us. They were told that of course they could and for some reason I was really excited about it. They were being real parents now and I was actually feeling love and getting way more hugs than any girl could hope to get. I just wish I didn’t still get depressed. It’s almost like I’m being ungrateful, but I guess it’s like the wealthiest of people can still be the most unhappy. Only, instead of money, or in addition to really, I have an abundance of love. They say that love changes everything, but it doesn’t change the past, my body, or some of the jerks at school. You can’t have it all, I’ve also heard it said.

*

So the day of the trip came and I was way more excited than I should have been, had it been considered just a “trip” for me. I had my plan, but I hadn’t told anybody. I didn’t want them to think I was any weirder than they already did. I swear, it took half the day just to get to New York before we made the leap across to darkest Africa via London Heathrow. But I was a live wire and dad began wondering if I was bipolar or had overdosed on caffeine. I assured him that I was just super excited to go somewhere I had always dreamed of. He still made sure that I didn’t get my morning coffee that day. Not nice.

I was really glad to have Amanda to bounce off the walls with me. We had so much fun, but I doubt the other passengers were all that thrilled with us. Our parents did a lot of eye-rolling that day. All us girls decided to put on our headscarves before we landed, having determined that, although we were assured it wasn’t necessary, we really didn’t want any troubles with the locals. I, being me, had to make mine look really pretty and a little sexy. Yes, it is possible. Now, I know that kinda goes against the whole idea of a headscarf, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. So, I adhered to the letter of sharia, but not the spirit. C’est la vie, I always say.

At the hotel, the doorman spoke perfect English with a British accent (swoon), and oh, was he gorgeous. Tall, dark, and handsome, as they say. He had one of those awesome black mustaches so many of the guys wear here. Not as thick as those old dead guys, Saddam Hussein, or Stalin or Nietszche, but just, well, perfect, with a really nice five o’clock shadow everywhere else. I blushed. He opened the door, saying “have a nice stay, ladies!” I blushed again. I’m quite sure I will never tire of hearing myself referred to as a lady. Not ever!

The hotel Amanda’s parents had reserved for us was very swanky - the Four Seasons Hotel Cairo at Nile Plaza - quite the mouthful. After unpacking and getting a bite to eat we were asked what we wanted to do the rest of the day. It was too late for a big excursion, but too early to hang out in the room. Amanda and I both blurted out “the spa!” simultaneously. We all giggled. I don’t know what the dads decided to do, but after rolling their eyes, they allowed all us girls to go get pampered for the next four hours. I got a little laser treatment to clean up any stray hairs I had. Then a nice warm mud bath. I got a salt scrub with Dead Sea salt! I thought the Egyptians and Israelis hated each other, but, whatever, my skin never felt smoother - like silk! We all got a massage and had our hair and nails done. We even decided to have them do our makeup. I was kinda hoping to turn out like Cleopatra, but I guess that’s just me being silly (and a bit racist, I fear. Or is it called cultural appropriation? Darn mom for being an ACLU lawyer!). We all looked absolutely gorgeous as we went to the boutique to pick out dresses for the evening. We all decided to get evening gowns with a subtle local ethnic twist. They were so cool. Mine was a kind of dark teal with a lot of gold accents. Real gold, judging by the price of it. Mom must make really good money as a corporate lawyer. No, I lie, she’s an environmental lawyer. I think - whatever. I don’t really know what Amanda’s dad does, but I think they have way more money than we do even.

I felt like a princess. In fact, when my dad saw me, he said “Oh my, my sweet princess, you look absolutely beautiful!” To which I blushed, of course, and beamed a great big smile and spun on my four-inch heels for him, my skirt flaring out prettily. He pulled me into a hug and began chatting with the others, but I don’t really know much about it as I was on another planet for the moment.

So dinner was amazing! I was kinda scared of the Egyptian food, so I went as close as I dared by getting the most delicious Greek gyros plate I have ever eaten. The Greeks ruled Egypt for a few hundred years, so I figured I was being authentic enough. Long gone were the days of eating spaghetti while visiting Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco. I still kick myself about that one! Crab and lobster turn out to be two of my favorite things in the world. Sigh.

A different gorgeous guy was manning the elevator on our way back to our room in order to get changed for the swimming pool. I think they must use some sort of genetic criteria for hiring, because my face felt flushed ever since stepping into that hotel. I caught myself staring at him before he could catch me, thank goodness. Who thought I would end up feeling like a sex-starved nympho? Not me. I guess I had been in my own little world for sixteen years, not allowing the real one to ever touch me. Now I felt as if I were being touched by a lightning rod nearly every moment. Who knew it would be this way?

Amanda and I donned our bikinis. I was now able to wear one since mom talked to one of her trans clients a couple months ago. She got me all the necessary gear, including a gaff and some nicer concave silicone breast enhancers. She even got a sort of medical adhesive so they stick to me and don’t fall out of my bra. That’s a big relief, I shouldn’t have to tell you. My slightly enhanced curves didn’t hurt and I thought I was looking pretty cute. Amanda was always cute, naturally. I’ve been so jealous of her all these years. I still haven’t told her that one. But, hopefully, if my plan works, I won’t have to be jealous anymore. Just miffed at losing my first sixteen years to a body I despised.

I was adamant at wanting to see the pyramids on our first full day in Cairo. If anything happened, curtailing our trip, fricking COVID, for example, I would be fine, just as long as I got to see the most wondrous and last extant of the seven wonders of the ancient world. But, I didn’t just want to see them. I wanted to go into the Great Pyramid of Khufu (or was it Khafre? Cheops? Oy!), smack in the very center. This was very important, no, vital, to my plan and I hoped I would get no push back on it.

It’s weird. Our parents are still pretty young in themselves, but they were already pooped by the time we reached the base of the imposing edifice. “Imposing” isn’t really the right word. Even “awesome” fails to do it justice. It was just entirely otherworldly and beyond the scope of my imaginings. Nothing in the world can prepare you for it. Not even the tallest buildings in Manhattan or Chicago. Not even close. Maybe Kilimanjaro or Fuji are the closest I could think of. Yet, the knowledge that the pyramids are man-made (allegedly) makes them even more awe-inspiring than the greatest of monolithic mountains. But I digress, and gush like a teenage girl mooning over the high school quarterback. Been there, done that. Wink.

So, Amanda and I talked our parents into letting us go in with a tour group. Fortunately it was made up of a bunch of old people (at least 40 years old, I reckon), so we didn’t have to worry about getting stared at or hit on while I was trying to go all Indiana Jones with my plan. I was beginning to wish I had played more Assassin’s Creed when I had the chance. But, being my past was what I thought was a huge secret, I was used to sneaking around and being all surreptitious and furtive and all that. I was probably gonna need it today. Hopefully I don’t suck at it as bad as I sucked at pretending to be a boy.

The entrance they used was way up there and since the blocks were twice my height at least, I was glad that steps were hewn into them. Some of those old guys were pretty nice helping us up some of the trickier spots, but generally it was a pretty uneventful climb. I had my map out before the mob of us entered into the relative darkness. I wanted to be sure I knew where I was going. We needed to get to the Queen’s Chamber whether this tour was going there or not. I had determined that it would be the optimal spot for my experiment, erm, my plan.

Fortunately, the Queen’s Chamber was the first major milestone for the tour, probably an hour before they make it up to the King’s Chamber. I didn’t plan on making that leg of the trip with them. After we all trundled and mumbled about in the QC, the lot of the tour exited, while I pulled Amanda off to the side where we couldn’t be seen. “What are you doing?” She implored with wide eyes that looked pretty cool in the dim lighting.

“I have a plan that I need your help with. Do you trust me?” I grabbed her arms and looked into her eyes.

“Of course I do, but we’ll get lost in here without the tour! Won’t we?” She was looking a little panicky.

“Shhh, we have to be quiet,” I whispered. “I have something I need to do. Something I’ve been thinking about for a while. And it needs to be done here. In this room. With you. Alone.” She eyed me with not a little trepidation and stepped back.

“Ewww! Don’t be gross! It’s not like that, you goof. No. It’s an energy experiment. An experiment in transformation. I can’t go into all the details, but all I need you to do is sit still for ten minutes in the center of this room, meditating and focusing on love.” Omigosh, I just realized it would have been better to have my parents here to focus their love on me while I do this, but here we are. It should work anyways.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so we need to start now. Will you do it?” She stared at me way too long before finally saying “OK.”

“Right here good?” She asked.

“That’s perfect,” I said, and she plopped down right there into the lotus position.

Her eyes were already closed as I continued. “When you’re done, I’ll take your place in exactly the same spot, so don’t be alarmed as I draw a chalk outline around you.” She just nodded her head then went back to complete stillness. She was really good at this. “If I am interrupted during my meditation, I need you to sound convincing and tell anyone that if I am disturbed it could kill me, okay? It wouldn’t, but just say it.” She opened one eye this time, but still just nodded silently.

We were still alone ten minutes later, but I didn’t expect our luck to continue for much longer. So, I hurriedly took Amanda’s spot on the floor, filling her outline perfectly. I immediately began meditating. I asked the universe to use the focused energy of the pyramid to shine through the energetic image of Amanda’s DNA. I wanted to be me, but made completely female using Amanda’s XX chromosomes as a template. It was a ridiculous, audacious plan, but, being a magical thinker anyway, at least it’s kept me upbeat for a few weeks.

You really could feel the energy of the pyramid. Everybody feels the energy when they come here, I’m just trying to use it to greater effect. And from all I’ve learned, the universe is capable of seemingly magical things if you know how to tap into the source field. I don’t know how, but I’m hoping something in the Akashic field or something will help me in my quest. Whatever. God, this sounds so stupid! Shut up and meditate, I told my mind. And I was out.

When I woke up in the hospital, Amanda told me she kept the next tour at bay and I was there for over an hour before she got worried. She couldn't wake me up. So she asked the next tour guide for help and he radioed for an ambulance to meet us down below. My parents looked at me with deep concern on their faces. Amanda’s parents were out getting coffees for all of them. Ooh, Arabica coffee. I prefer Sumatran, but, whatever. “Daddy? Mommy?” I whispered, my throat dry from the desert air. “What happened?”

“Only you can get lost in a pyramid.” Mom grinned at me.

“I got lost?”

“For more than 90 minutes. I don’t know how that’s possible, but you managed it.” Everybody laughed. Amanda’s parents were back by now. “Amanda says you passed out, probably from thirst.”

I looked at Amanda and reached for her hand, squeezing it. I nodded. “That makes sense.” I squeezed her hand again. “Actually, I am a bit thirsty. Could I have some water? Maybe some Arabica later after I’m hydrated?” I grinned and the room broke out in giggles.

“She’s okay!” Dad leaned in and gave me a hug.

I noticed I was in a hospital gown. Omigosh! “Where are my clothes?”

“Don’t worry honey, they’re over on the chair.” Mom grabbed my hand.

“No. I mean, did they see anything - say anything? You know, about me? I don’t think they like people like me over here.” I whispered.

“Oh, I see. No. They didn’t say anything. They’ve been very professional.” Mom assured me.

“Okay. Wow. Good. Phew!” I sunk back into my pillow with some relief. “Oooh, I need to pee. The water’s hitting me, I guess.” I smiled.

I was helped into the bathroom and when I began to sit to pee, I noticed there wasn’t the usual tension between my legs. It felt free and clear. I reached down to point my penis in the right direction, but there was nothing there! Holy shit! I mean cow! It worked!

When I woke up, Mom said I had passed out on the toilet. I remembered the smoothness between my legs, the glorious lack. I smiled. “Are you okay now, sweetie?” My mom asked.

I paused, wondering if it was all a dream. I slid my hand under my blanket, down between my thighs, just a little damp stickiness, then I ran my hands over my small but wonderfully sensitive breasts. “Perfect!” I smiled.

Just then, the nurse came in with a small package in each hand. “Here you go, sweetie. Do you prefer tampon or pad?” I looked up at her quizzically. “I noticed you were having your period.” She smiled shyly.

“Um, tampon?” I had always dreamed of being able to use a tampon. So that’s kinda weird, but I did. My mom’s mouth just hung open as I was helped to the bathroom. I smiled, strangely happy as I slid the tampon into me and pulled the string. I am a woman now, I thought to myself as I looked to the heavens.

*

I wasn’t released from the hospital until after midnight. Everybody seemed pretty wrung out and the ride back to the hotel was surprisingly quiet. I imagined mom and dad were having trouble sorting this out in their minds and that confusion gave them a case of lockjaw. It was chilly going from the cab to the front door, so I was glad that the fireplace was already burning brightly when we got to our room. I remember thinking how surprised I was when I first saw the fireplace, wondering why they would need fireplaces in the middle of the desert.

I got it now. Mom told me to get my jammies on and I obeyed, putting on a cute pair of flannel, footed jammies. I pulled a blanket off my bed and snuggled up on the couch in front of the fireplace. Moments later, mom and dad took the seats in front of me after setting down the tea tray. Mom poured three cups of tea and handed me one, which I eagerly took. “Speak to us.” She said tersely, but softly, without rancor.

I knew what she was referring to, but it didn’t make it any easier to formulate a coherent answer. How were they going to believe such a far-fetched story? Although, they were now looking at their formerly trans daughter, now a complete and fully functioning girl. And I knew even my chromosomes were correct. So I guess they could believe the causation, right? Maybe?

I won’t bore you with any more details. I gave you the gist earlier. Suffice it to say that mom and dad just sat quietly, occasionally nodding their heads or dropping their jaws to the floor. When I finished, mom said, “I guess there’s not much choice but to believe your explanation. It’s astonishing, but we’re looking at the proof in front of us.”

“I plan on writing a book about it at some point.” I told them. “I’ll try to do a better job explaining it then. Maybe I’ll even do footnotes and stuff, I don’t know. So, other than astonishment, what do you think?”

“About you, or the book?”

“Well, me. But the book, too, if you have an opinion?”

Mom asked, “are you happy?”

“I haven’t had much chance to think or to show it, but I am ecstatic! Mommy, Daddy, I’ll be able to have kids! I can carry my very own child! And maybe boys won’t be so scared to touch me now. And, I guess that’s convenient since I want kids.” We all giggled. “They’ll still think I’m trans, which I guess I am, kinda, but I’m hoping…I’m just hoping.” I started to tear up. I just realized this may not change things as much as I’d hoped. Maybe if I moved to where nobody knows who I used to be…

They both came to the couch and sat on either side of me for a group hug. “We’re so happy for you baby. Really. Truly.” Dad said. “It’s going to take some time to wrap our heads around this, but we will. I mean, this will make things a lot easier, won’t it?”

“And it’s comforting to know that you don’t have to go through that surgery now.” Mom added.

“I just realized that I’ll probably still get bullied.” I whined.

“If that happens, we’ll be there for you this time, we promise.” Dad hugged me tight. “But you’ll know who and what you are, you always have, and maybe that’s going to have to be enough to get you through. You’ll always have us and your friends. I know Amanda adores you. And I’m quite confident that some boy will realize how amazing you are.”

I smiled. “Thanks Daddy.” I placed my cup on the table. “I’m pretty tired. How ‘bout you guys?” I nodded to my bed.

“Bed sounds like a very good idea.” Mom smiled.

She didn’t leave. “I understand how you believe what you did in the pyramid has worked. But I need you to understand what really happened. You being in the pyramid was just a coincidence…”

“Synchronicity?” I gave her a small smile.

“If you prefer. But yes, it was very lucky that Amanda was with you, and that the next tour group arrived when it did. Sweetie, you almost bled to death…’

“What? What do you mean? How?” My eloquence was on full display again.

Mom continued, ashen. “You had your first period while you were in the pyramid.”

“Okay.” That didn’t surprise me, because my transformation was obviously a success.

“It was heavy and there was nowhere for the blood to go, so it pooled in your pelvis and abdomen and was becoming septic.”

“Why didn’t it just flow out?” I was totally confused. I seem to have a perfectly working vagina now.

“You had a thin layer of tissue over your…vaginal opening beneath your…penis.” She blushed.

I should have blushed as well, but I didn’t. “Penis?”

“Yes, I’m sorry sweetie, but your energy ‘experiment’ wasn’t the cause of your transformation. But the truth is better in some ways. You are intersexed. Were. You had both sets of reproductive organs, although your ‘male’ ones weren’t really functional.”

“Tell me about it.” I fake pouted.

“I will!” She smiled broadly. “Your female organs are fully intact and fully functional! You can have children if you want…some day.” She wagged a finger at me with a serious mom face on her.

“Omigosh, that’s great!” I nearly jumped out of bed until I felt some sutures pull and a bit of pain pulled me back quickly. “Obviously, the ‘penis’ is gone, how’d that happen?”

“Well, the local ER docs sorted out your bleeding, but they had to call in a specialist from Tel Aviv to… correct your… genitalia.” Who knew mom was so uncomfortable about sex stuff? “Your repaired…clitoris…should have normal sensation after it heals.” We both blushed at that one.

“Cool.” My understatement of a lifetime.

“Anyway, maybe your experiment wasn’t totally off the wall. The doctors, every last one of them, say the pyramids truly have energetic healing properties. And it’s their opinion that this is the reason your female organs kicked into gear now. Who knows if they ever would have otherwise? Pretty neat, huh?”

Mom’s turn for understatement now, I guess. ‘Course I didn’t believe her explanation for a minute. Well, maybe a second. I was pretty sure I used to have a very small, very normal penis. ‘Course, what did I know about normal? Or about penises, for that matter. I wasn’t going to argue the matter with her, though.

*

Back in school in January, not much seemed different. My center of gravity had changed and it was cool to have a heaviness on my chest. My clothes fit better. But, it was school and it looked the same and I looked pretty much the same. So I wasn’t expecting a whole lot to change.

But calculus class showed me different. David was already seated when I came in. He stared at me the entire time I walked to my seat. I blushed at his stare, then he looked down at his hands as I sat. “Hi David,’ I tried. “Nice holiday?”

“Yeah, really good. You?”

“Oh my gosh, It was amazing. Almost miraculous!” I smiled at him.

“Yeah? That’s good. Whadja do?”

“We went to Egypt. I got to see the pyramids!” Among other things.

“Wow, that is so cool. I’m actually really jealous. I plan on going into engineering and they’re probably the most amazing engineering feat in the history of mankind.” He enthused.

“You don’t say?” I teased.

“Yeah. You’re lucky. Hey. You seem different somehow. Did you change your hair?” That was a quick change of tack.

Among other things, I thought. “Yeah. You like it?” I pulled on a strand.

Class started, so I had to ask my next question in an old-fashioned paper note. I didn’t have David’s Text. Yet! “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why didn’t you go to homecoming?” I know this because I looked for him, endlessly.

He passed a note back. “Don’t like to prove what a loser I am, going alone.”

“Nobody accepted your invitation?” I wrote back.

“Didn’t ask anyone. Didn’t seem any point. Girls don’t like nerds, right?”

I looked at him. Then wrote. “You’re not a nerd!” Then I spoke out loud. “I happen to know a girl who thinks you’re hot. I’m pretty sure she woulda said yes had you asked her.’

“What? Who?” He was shocked.

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell. Sorry. Just know, you’re not a loser.” I pleaded with him as I blushed and looked down at my pretty nails.

At that moment, my pencil decided to take the opportunity to begin rolling toward David’s side of the table. We both reached for it at once, his hand landing on top of mine. Electricity shot right through me. We both blushed and I grasped my pencil and pulled it toward my lap. I glanced at him through my bangs with a little shy smile. He looked stunned. Did he feel what I felt?

David asked me to hang back after class. He looked at me earnestly. “I think I might like you.”

“You think?” I interrupted with a sly smile.

“I like you,” he corrected. “So, I was wondering if we could sit together at lunch? Just today, I mean. That is, if you want to?” He’s cute when he’s rambling.

“Just today?” I teased.

“Well, we’ll see how it goes? See if I don’t trip all over myself? Prove what a dork I am?” He gave me another shy smile.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Just today. You big dork!” I winked.

“I swear, it’s more than your hair that’s different. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Well, we’ll see if you can’t figure it out at lunchtime. It’s pizza day, you know.” I smiled.

He smiled back. “Oh, don’t I know it!”

*

“Hey David? Hon? Do you think I should write this book as Sci-fi, Fantasy, or maybe a Romance?” I glanced up from my laptop over to David, who was carrying two glasses of Pinot Noir to our spot on the sofa.

“Oh, romance, definitely!” He winked at me. “I suppose you could go the comedy route. No. How to raise twin terrors; you know, a how-to self-help kinda horror story thing.” He was still cute when he was rambling. “Girls! Settle down! Mommy’s trying to write!”

“Sorry Daddy,” the girls chimed in stereo.

I set my wine down. “Come here, you two.” They jumped up on the sofa and gave me a big hug, one on each side.

“Hi, Mommy! Whatcha writin’?” Amanda asked.

I looked her in the eye. “Oh, it’s a fairytale, sweetie.” I smiled as I pulled her in for a hug. “A wonderful fairytale. And do you know what the best part of a fairytale is?”

“Umm…what, Mommy?” She looked at me so earnestly and with great expectations. Those gorgeous blue eyes.

“The ending practically writes itself!”

“Really? That’s so awsums.” She looked absolutely enthralled. I hugged them both good and tight.

“Yeppers!”

…And they lived happily ever after. (Told ya!).

The End