Edited by Djkauf

What do you do when you really want to go out as the girl you know you are, but also want to go out with your friends? Meet Mason, a young boy in a similar situation.

Mason stood in his bedroom, looking over what he had laid out for the night. He was taking a mighty leap of faith that everything could work out. He hadn’t seen his Dad in weeks, not since his mother had kicked him out of the house. The past was catching up to Mason still and he was still getting used to his mother being okay with his new dreams and wishes. He was still getting used to it himself.

He had kept it hidden from himself for years, after his kindergarten teacher had called his parents to tell them that Mason’s dream, when he grew up, was to be a girl. That had started the several years of hell, in which his father did his best to make him into a man. After one bad spanking, over a doll he had gotten from a cousin, Mason had begun to repress those feelings. He shoved them in a hole and never looked back.

That was behind him now. The past had been revealed to him again and now that his father was gone, his mother was letting him dress any way he wanted, in the house. She had allowed Halloween as well, mostly because every kid seemed to be wearing something different. So Mason could dress as the girl he wanted to be and be out on the street at the same time.

So he had come up with the idea to dress in a group theme with his friends, and take the girl’s costume. Scooby doo was still making his rounds of popularity, so Mason saw his chance. One of his friends, Garrett, was gone with parents, so that left him with two other friends. Zack and Lee. Of those two, only Zack knew of his wish to be a girl. In fact, he was aware that Zack held a secret himself. Zack was gay or at least he thought he was. Lee on the other hand, he always seemed to be mellow. He was the laid back one of their group. Rarely getting angry, almost never teasing anyone, unless it was during a video game victory. But then, this seemed to be a trait he got from his parents. Both of Lee’s parents were laid back, in fact, Mason couldn’t recall any time when they had yelled at Lee for any reason.

Mason was also a part of the nerd herd. Zack, Garrett and Lee rounded out his small part of the herd. They did everything together. Video games, board games, movies, anything fun like that. Mason had known them for years, since the second grade, but he only trusted Zack with his biggest of secrets.

There was a knock on the door and a young male voice called out from the other side. “Hey, you ready in there?”

Mason smiled and turned to face the door. “Yeah, Zack. Come on in.”

The door opened up and a teen boy, wearing a green shirt and brown pants. He wore a brown wig and had a patch of fake hair on his chin. “Zoinks!” He said, in a voice that sounded like Shaggy, from the cartoons, as he stepped in and saw his friend, wearing an orange sweater and a reddish orange skirt. He had large fake glasses and a medium brown wig.

“Jenkies!” Mason said as he smiled brightly, but then the smile faded.

“Hey, what’s up?” Zack asked.

“You really think Lee won’t mind this?” Mason asked.

“Lee knows you were going with one of the Scooby Doo kids, and he got Freddie. So that leaves Shaggy or the girls.”

“And you think he’ll be fine with....this? Mason gestured to himself with one hand.

“Mason, relax. Lee could care less. Face it, between him and Garrett, you could tell him and I doubt he’d care.” Zack said.

“Kids?!?” Mason’s mother called from the living room. “It’s almost time! Lets get going so we can pick up Lee!”

“Come on Mason. I’ll protect you.” Zack said with a smile. “And think of it. One night where you can be a girl and no one will know that this is the real you.”

“Well, not Velma.....” Mason said with a chuckle. “But close.....”

“I know.” Zack hugged him. “Come on, let’s go. I hear free candy calling.”

The drive to Lee’s home was quick, only a few miles away. And when they got there, Lee’s mother met Mason’s mother at the door. The adults all came outside to talk. Lee’s parents seen Mason and they smiled and waved. Somehow they seemed to know about Mason, but never really said anything. Which was fine to him. But for right now, He was too scared to leave the car, so he just nodded and waved back. Zack got out to see if Lee was ready yet.

Zack ran to Lee’s door and knocked, then he waited and a moment later, it opened and another boy, about his age, stepped out, this one dressed as Freddie from Scooby Doo. Zack led him back to the car, while his parents talked with Mason’s mother really quick.

His friends slid into the car, Zack taking the middle of the back and leaving Lee by the door. Lee looked over and could see Mason looking worried about something. He pushed a pack over the back of the passenger’s seat. Part two of the nights plan was a sleepover and he brought a pack with games, movies and clothes.

Lee smiled at his friend. “Hey...Nice Velma costume, Mason.” He wanted to ask what was wrong, but he was sure it was from the costume, so he didn’t want to push too hard.

“Thanks.” Mason blushed again, then he crossed his legs, aware that the skirt was short enough and the way he was sitting, his legs were on display.

“So, where are we going?” Lee asked.

“Other side of town, so no one should know Mason.” Zack replied.

Lee leaned back into the seat and pulled out a handheld game system from a pocket. “So how did you get left with Velma?”

Before Mason could reply, Zack filled in with a good lie. “Mason and I were deciding on which to go with and we both wanted Shaggy. We decided to roll dice, highest number won. I won. So he went with something that was easy.”

“Easy?” Lee asked, taking a moment to look at Mason. “Looks like a lot of work to me.”

“Glasses. My cousin had a sweater and the skirt, so we threw it all together.” Zack said. “Better than trying to make a Daphne costume.” They knew that Mason was self conscious about his weight. Sure, he wasn’t a blimp, but they knew he felt like it. So
Zack knew that Velma was closer to his body size and would be better than trying to slip into a dress too many sizes too small.

“I guess. What with the long wig and the tight dresses.” Lee said with a shrug.

“So. Think this should be our last year?” Mason managed to ask, trying to keep the subject off of his clothing.

Lee shrugged as he flipped on the power to his game. “Maybe. I mean Zack will be thirteen next Halloween and we’re getting older.....”

“Yeah, but free candy.” Zack said. “Free candy!”

“But we’d look silly when we’re in high school.” Mason said.

“But that’s not for a year or two.” Lee stated.

“True.” Zack and Mason both replied. Mason’s mother got back in the car.

She looked over the seat at them. “Okay. Are we ready?”

“Yeah!” Lee and Zack exclaimed, but Mason was a bit more subdued, he just nodded.

“And after you’re both staying at my place for the night?” Mason’s mother asked again.

“Yeah.” The other two boys nodded.

“Well, then, lets get going!” Mason’s mother said as she put the car in reverse.

~o~O~o~

It had taken several houses to get over his fears, but as they were headed to a second street, he began to play up the Velma role, as no one around them knew that he was really not a girl. With each house they went to, his confidence slowly built and each house, his voice filled with a bit of excitement, while asking for the candy. He wanted this more, not the candy, but the feeling of everyone treating him like a girl.

This feeling was like a drug and he was enjoying every last second of it.

Originally I had Mason being used in a writing SIMM and had been thinking of dusting him/her off again, but for now, I wanted to join the contest.

I had this story kicking around in my head for the past couple of days. It's short, but sweet. Enjoy

She was a beauty. Sure there were other women in that room at the time, but none had the beauty and happiness that radiated on her face. Her dress was a sight to behold. The lace that run up the sides was exquisite. Her hair was done up with flowers on one side. And that smile never left her lips.

I waited patiently for my turn to dance with the beauty. I heard the DJ call out my dance, so I headed out onto the floor. I felt a swelling of pride as I gently took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor. The music started and we began to slowly move about the floor.

With each step and turn I began to recall the long road to this moment. I could recall each fight, each threat and every tear. The screams that shook our old house, the promises and the breakdowns. I had never thought I would be having this dance, not with her. Yet life has a way of surprising you.

She laid her head against my chest and I realized that it was no longer my job to protect this tender, loving person. Now that job was taken by someone else. No more late nights of watching the door, waiting for her to come in from a date. No more mending fences over a bowl of ice cream.

As the song neared the end I thought about the journey that led us here. From the moment I heard the doctor tell me it was a boy, I had been on cloud nine. Of the main family, I had been the last hold out when my son told us he was really a girl. I was the one trying to fight it.

I can't recall the moment I first saw my daughter, instead of my son, but I was glad that I did. But the tears and fights didn't end. Instead the fights were against self doubt, the tears were from fear. Each battle that came up, I stood by my daughter. I became her source of strength and she became my happiness.

As the song ended, she looked up into my eyes and whispered. “I love you daddy.” And once again, like it had every time she flashed me the puppy dog eyes after a fight, my heart melted.

After the blog from Ragtime Rachel, I threw this together in a matter of an hour. It's just a one shot right now, but may grow to be more soon. This is my attempt at a child, wanting to be more then he really is.

The lone hero stood atop the highest building in the city. Her keen eyes swept the city, looking for any sort of trouble. She had an ear piece that worked as a two way radio, plus a scanner that monitored all the emergency frequencies There were a number of powers she could call on. Flight was the one she used the most. It wasn't supersonic, she could only fly up to about one hundred miles an hour and her ceiling was just near a mile high. She had normal intelligence and only slightly above average strength, something a kin to Olympic weight lifters. Her hands could create concussive blasts of force, ones that she could shape and control, just not often. She was a decent fighter, having taken the time to learn several forms of combat, both armed and unarmed. And around her belt were several weapons that she used to her advantage. But perhaps her strangest power was the fact that she could illuminate herself. She could light up, into a big pink star if she so choose, which earned her the name of Starlight from the local press.

Her costume was slightly unusual. First of all, it was a bright pink, which made it almost impossible to hide in. Her face was only partly covered in a mask, one that stopped just under her nose. There was no cape. A run in with a large man early in her career ended that idea, after he used it to toss her around like a rag doll.

She was hoping for something to happen. The town had been quiet for too many days now. And her prayers were answered when an explosion pulled her attention to the south. She could barely make out the flickers of a fire in the distance and it was in times like these that she wished she had some form of telescopic vision.

Two steps was all she needed to get to the edge of the building, then she jumped into the air, letting her body free-fall for several stories before she took control of the flight and rocketed towards the sight of the explosion. Her ear piece crackled to life and she divided her attention between flying and listening.

“'plosion. First National Bank. Fire and police en-route.” A voice called out. Moments later, a second voice came on the air.

“This is seven Mary three. I got a ten thirty here at the First....” The voice was interrupted by the sounds of a second explosion, one loud enough that Starlight winced as she clawed at her ear piece. Just as she almost had it out of her ear, she heard the same cop come back on the airwaves, his voice filled with fear. “I got a two eleven in progress! Mr. Bad is robbing the bank, Repeat, I got a two eleven in progress, Mr. Bad is here!”

She didn't reply, but her speed picked up as she dropped to just a few feet above the street level. She could see the fires from the bank and the flashing lights from the police cruiser. In the hole of what was once the wall to the bank, stood a towering figure of a man. He was at least nine feet tall. A moving, talking mountain of muscle. Mr. Bad.

Of all the villains she had faced, he was the worst. This man had the strength and the smarts to make her life a living hell. He was one of the few to almost beat her several times now. He was the reason she no longer wore the cape. The last time they faced off, she had ended up in a private hospital, healing for almost a week. Thankfully her powers let her heal faster then normal. “Why couldn't it have been one of the easy ones?” She grumbled as she poured on the speed, reaching her limit and aiming right for her target.

She began to build up the force in her hands, a trick she had recently learned. She would build it up, almost to the point of being able to fire it, but instead she used it as a battering ram. It was there, even though no one could see it. Her mind shaped it into a cone that was about a foot in front of her hands, and she aimed it right towards her foe's chest.

Her mind was set and she braced herself for impact. The cone of force slammed into Mr. Bad's body, but something happened. He twisted at the last second, making the force brush past him, then he spun and grabbed at her feet as she flew past. He gave a stong yank and then swung her in mid air and slammed her into a building.

Starlight lay there, stunned as the hulking man loomed over her. “Well Robert?” He asked, but his voice sounded almost feminine.

The hero sat up and blinked. “What?”

“Robert, are you in there?” The woman in the drivers seat asked, a smile on her face.

The young boy looked around the car and sighed. ~Just another day dream~ He nodded slowly. “Yeth Mama.” His speech was slurred and he moved to look at her, but his movements were choppy at best.

“Well, we're at the mall. You coming in?”

“'Kay.” He opened up the door and swung a leg out, then he grabbed one of the two forearm canes that he had with him. He put it on and swung the other leg out, then picked up the second cane and took the couple minutes to stand up. He hated the fact that his mother always parked in the handicapped areas of the mall. Not that it was closer, but that people could see him walking from there and he felt that it made him look weak.

He had years of living like this, so moving around wasn't a problem for him. He could easily go from the end of the parking lot to the mall without a problem. He had grown quite fast at it too, despite the fact that his knees touched as he walked. Sure, he could have taken the wheelchair, but he had his pride. But it wasn't just his walk that embarrassed him. No, it was something more complex. Something that gnawed at him each time he was at school, or at the mall.

They entered through one of the larger department stores and his heart sank. There was his weakness. In front of him was the girls section. He so desperately wanted to just go through there one day, picking out the prettiest dresses and skirts, maybe even some nice shoes, but his parents didn't understand.

He had tried to tell them, but they never listened. He had told them that he just felt wrong in this body. The proper words failed him time and time again and his parents just too it to mean that he meant his disability. Only he knew in his heart what was wrong. It wasn't the fact that he had cerebral palsy, that he had made peace with. The real fact was that he wanted. No he needed to be a girl.

He knew there was a young, beautiful girl inside him, just waiting to emerge, but he was forced to hide behind the facade of Robert. He never had the time alone to borrow his mothers clothes, or his sisters. There was always someone watching him, making sure he didn't do something or get hurt, like he was still an infant and it hurt. Just once he wanted to know what he'd look like in a long gown, wearing pretty shoes. But Robert was the only face he was allowed to wear.

So he lived in his dreams. Be it a female superhero, or a cheerleader. Each of his dreams held the same thing. A young, vibrant woman, sure of herself and her place in the world. The one thing he could never have.

Like I put in the blog, this is how Through the years began in my head, but then I went back and started on Troy's life as a kid and it moved away from ever reaching this point. So this is in no way a part of Through the years, but all the characters names haven't been changed.

Please enjoy

It had started like any other normal day. Troy Patterson had been up before his alarm, and had been out the door to his first job with half an hour to spare. He always left before his wife, one of the disadvantages to having two jobs. Sure, they didn't really need the third income anymore, not with her being an Optometrist, but when he had his eye on a motorcycle and she refused help pay for something something she didn't agree on, he was forced to get a job if he really wanted it. That was a couple years back and after it was paid for, he kept the job, saving the money in case something big came up. One never knew when they'd need a new sailboat to travel the great lakes with.

So with an early morning delivery job, along with his massage therapist job he kept the money coming in. He also had a few select clients that didn't see him at the day spa he worked at in the afternoons. It was good money, and the work wasn't too hard. Plus a lot of the time he was driving and that always pleased him.

The sun had begun to set by time he left his second job and was headed north on state road 53 in his silver Chevy Tahoe in the Detroit Metro area, passing the small town of Utica as he headed home in Romeo MI. Just as the road turned into a highway his phone rang. He flipped open his earpiece and looked at the phone. It was an out of state number, and he was not sure who it was.

“This is Troy Patterson, How can I help you today?” He said cordially into the phone. With his massage therapist job, it always paid to be polite, not that he could pull off being mean without feeling guilty about hurting someone's feelings.

A computerized voice came over the line. “Hello, this is the Butte Country Correctional System, you have a call from” The voice stopped and his brothers voice came on the line. “Vance Patterson.” The voice came back and offered to him the choice of picking up or not. He accepted the call and waited a second. “Hello Vance.”

“This is all your fault!” His brothers voice dripped with anger as he almost spit the words out.

“What? Traffic?” Troy asked as he passed a string of slow moving people. "Sorry, but I didn't put these people out here in this blizzard."

“You know what I'm fucking talking about!” The angry man snapped back.

Troy's usually calm attitude cracked slightly. But he fought to hold it back and kept talking, trying to figure out what his bother meant. He had a good idea, but he needed to be sure. Why admit you're guilty till you know what the charges are. “Actually, Vance, no I don't. If this is something about Oroville, I haven't talked to anyone in a couple of months, not since right around Christmas. So try again and tell me what's happened, I'm in traffic and it's snowing heavily and I've been moving for more then fourteen hours now.”

“Your fucking fetish! You and your dresses” Vance snarled. “Now my Son thinks he's a girl!”

Troy tried to feign surprise, but he knew that this would be coming. He had been talking to the nephew in question for some time now. In fact it had been Troy who brought told the boy to really open up to his therapist. “Wait...what?” Troy asked, hoping his bother wouldn't be none the wiser.

“Oh no you don't.” Vance replied. “He told me that you've been talking to him. You sent him to that quack!”

Troy shook his head as he pulled off onto the shoulder of the highway, sliding a bit on the ice. He sighed and he put the truck into park, turned on his hazzards and he leaned back in his seat. “Okay, you're right. I knew. I didn't send him to anyone, that was his choice. But I knew he was going to talk to the therapist about it.”

“This is your fault. Bad enough you wear dresses, but now you got to have my son doing it?!? Are you that sick! You get some sort of sick pleasure in him thinking he's a girl like you thought you could be?!?” Vance was quiet for a moment as Troy began to count backwards from twenty in his mind. As he reached ten, Vance spoke up again. “Well Freak? You enjoy seeing little boys dress up as girls?!?”

As he reached five, he began to speak aloud. “Five, four three two one.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting to collect his thoughts. As he let the breath out, he opened his eyes and began speaking in a forced, calm voice. His usual casual exterior began to crack even more. “First of all, shut up. You're not a therapist, you're just a lowly con stuck in prison for what? The fifth time for breaking parole?. Second, I haven't worn a dress, or any other form of women's clothing in years, since I left home.” That part was a lie, but it wasn't common knowledge.

He took another deep breath and began drumming his fingers on his knee. “Third, your child is hurting. With you forcing your personal views on him and Dad not being much better, he's got no one in his corner. He...excuse me, SHE, is scared and is trying to feel right in HER own skin.”

“So you just thought you'd tell HIM it was alright for a BOY to wear a dress!?!” Vance snarled into the phone.

Troy's resolve snapped and his temper flared. “HAVE YOU EVEN TALKED TO HER?!?” After a second or two he continued, his voice much softer. “Oh, that's right, you don't have custody anymore. Something about being a bad parent.”

“Don't you dare!” Vance snapped back. “You don't know what happened!”

Troy took another breath and kept trying to calm himself down. “Vance, there is nothing wrong with her. She's the same person underneath, she was just born wrong.”

“Look, just stay the fuck away from my children!”

“Vance, you lost them. Their not your children anymore. If mom and Dad allow me to see them, then you need to take the fights to them, but after you got busted for child abuse, I doubt the courts will listen to the likes of you.” Troy replied. “How the hell did you hear about this anyway?”

“It doesn't matter.” Vance mumbled into the phone.

“Look, as much as I'd love to keep talking, I don't want a killer phone bill.” Troy said, having gained his composure.

“Look, just leave my child alone!” Vance snarled, regaining his anger.

“Yeah, whatever. As soon as you get custody, I'll leave them alone, till then, shut up and remember why you lost them.” Troy said. “Don't call again until you learn your lesson.” With that he hung up on his brother. He waited a few moments before pulling back on the highway to finish the last twenty miles to home.

He needed to call home, that was now top on his to do list. He needed to hear from his nephew....niece. Well the child in question. As he continued down the road, he began to think back on how it started for little Zachary and how he learned the little boy's big secret.

::::Six years earlier:::

Troy sat on the couch in his parent's house as his wife and mother headed into town. He didn't want part in the shopping that they had planned, and his father was still working. It had taken a few years to get him and his father talking again. Ever since He had found Troy in a dress, during his senior year of High School, their relationship soured. It ended up in a yelling match between the two of them that gave Troy the courage to leave home. He had found himself on the move, finally stopping at the only other relatives who seemed to care. His Grandparents in Michigan.

It hadn't been the first time he had been in a dress. He had been sneaking them out of his mothers closet since he had been seven. At first his bother seemed okay with it, then when Vance hit high school, his attitude towards Troy turned bad and he'd go out of his way to ridicule Troy. Troy had watched Vance slip down the slope from being a good person, to a drug using, thug. He could still recall the first arrest his brother had. He recalled even using that against his father, which made his father utter the words that forced Troy to leave.

"I'd rather have a con for a son, then a fag."

It took him getting married, having a prosperous side business and almost a decade to get Troy back to speaking terms with his father, all the while hiding his clothing fetish from his father.

Now he was back at the house he had left years before, four years after he had first gone to his father with the olive branch held out. Things weren't back to how they were with his father, but it was getting close. With his wife and Mother gone, that left Troy in charge of his nephew and niece. He didn't mind, he viewed it as practice for if he and his wife ever had kids.

After a while the kids had retreated to their rooms, leaving him to play the channel surfing game. He was good at it too. With his two jobs he never watched much daytime TV and now he knew why. He had grown bored. But to his surprise, as he looked at the clock on the wall, only thirty minutes had passed.

He decided to check out what the kids were up to. So he headed down the hall of his parent's house. He knew the rooms well, after all it was where he had grown up. Just outside a little from his nephew's room he could hear a familiar song. It took him a few seconds to recall it. It was an oldie, in Disney standards. He kept walking and looked into the room, jaw dropping in surprise as he took in the scene.

Little six year old Zachary was dressed in a skirt that could have only been from Troy's mother's closet. He danced around the room with his sister, twirling to the song from Cinderella, “So this is love.” The little boy spun and swayed, and Troy stepped back from the door, letting the child have his privacy.

“Is he like me?” Troy thought to himself, as he went down the hall a little. “Or is there more.”

He had experimented wearing womens clothes when he was younger. He recalled seeing a show about men who became women and wondered if that was him. But inside he knew he was a boy, but one that felt comfortable in womens clothing. His wife had even seen him in a skirt,= on many occasions.

He took a breath and shook himself back into reality. He stopped at the end of the hall and called out. “Zachary? Arianna?” He waited a moment as he heard the movie shut off. “I'm grabbing some cookies, if you want some.” With that he turned and headed towards the kitchen.

He waited in the kitchen, box of cookies in hand as the two kids came running in. Arianna, the four year old made it first, her feet slipping on the floor just slightly. She slid to a stop at her uncles feet and bounced slightly. “Cookie?” Her eyes sparkled with glee as she waited for him to hand over a couple of cookies. After she had received her treats, she raced back to her bedroom.

Zachary came up to him, moving slower then his sister, his head down just a bit and he no longer wore his grandmothers skirt. As Troy handed him a couple of cookies, he dropped to one knee and gave Zachary a smile. “Here ya go.”

“Thank you.” He said as he took the cookie.

“Hey, you okay?” Troy asked, as he put a finger under Zach's chin and lifted his head slightly so they could see eye to eye.

“Yeah.” He replied.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Troy asked. "Please?"

"I guess." The little child answered. Troy gestured to a table and pulled out a chair. The little boy hopped up and Troy took his own seat.

“Zachary, I saw you dancing in the bedroom." Troy started. The little boy whipped up his head and tears began to form.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Troy chuckled. "Not from me. If fact I don't mind if you do that." He leaned in a bit closer. "I just wanted to know why you did it?"

"I..." He looked to the floor, then lifted his head enough to quickly look at his Uncle. "Promise you're not mad?"

"I Promise. Cross my heart even." Troy made the heart crossing motion.

It took Zack several moments to gather the courage, when he did, his voice was almost a whisper. "I wanna be a girl."

"A girl?" Troy smiled. He had met several transsexuals through his years in Michigan. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the child. "From what I saw, you'll be a pretty girl."

"Really?" Zach asked.

"I swear to God." Troy replied.

:::Back in the Present:::

Troy pulled into his garage and climbed out of his truck and went into his house. He stopped in the kitchen to grab a glass of water before he placed the important call that he needed to make. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began to dial his parent's house, glad he had kept the earpiece in. While it rang he began preparing dinner for his wife.

He wasn't sure what he'd deal with. Would they blame him, would they even talk to him? He could only hope it would all work out. His thoughts were interrupted once more as a voice sounded in his ear. "Patterson residence, Maggie speaking."

"Hey Mom, it's Troy." He said as he pulled out a large pot.

"Troy!" He could almost hear his mother smile over the phone. "It's been a couple months, figured we wouldn't hear from you until Mothers day."

"Sorry, been busy with making money to put into savings." He replied. "I so need a vacation."

"I can understand that. You know you shouldn't work yourself to death, it doesn't get you anything." His mother offered her sage like advice. "But I'm sure you didn't call about that. What's up?"

"I got a call from Vance today." He stated. "He told me about Zachary and the therapist." Troy knew he could be open with his mother. Aside from his brother and a friend, his mother had also caught him in female clothes. Mostly because they were hers. He had also told her of Zachary's raid on her closet those six years ago, making her laugh and recall when she had found him.

"He called you from the jail?" She asked.

"Yep. Blamed me for making his son wear a dress. He thinks I'm doing this to get a sick thrill out of it." She could hear the fatigue in her Son's voice as he talked. "Mom, level with me, what's going on? I haven't talked to anyone since Christmas when we were out there."

"Well, it's kind of in the air." She replied. "Zachary insisted he wanted to talk to that counselor we had taken him to when we first got him from your brother."

"I recall, that was in what? October?" Troy asked. Out of all of his relations, Zachary was the one he kept in close contact.

"Mid November." Maggie corrected him. "Even since you talked him six years ago, he's wanted to tell your dad, but with Vance hanging out here when he wasn't in jail, he was always afraid."

"Yeah, Vance is such a nice caring person like that." Troy let out a weak chuckle.

"Well in January Zachary told the therapist that he wanted to be a girl, with your father in the room. Your father had to leave the room, but demanded a second opinion when the man said he had gender identity disorder. So we were given the name of a second therapist. A gender Therapist. Your father didn't want to let him go, but I took him anyway., but they were booked up, had to wait till just a couple weeks ago." Maggie replied

“Good for you. I remember him telling me he wanted to be a girl six years ago, that second time we visited after you guys had custody.” It had been a spur of the moment trip and Troy was glad they had taken it. He still could picture Zachary in his mothers skirt, which fit the little boy like a dress.

"You realize he's still has one of Arianna's stuffed animals and he sleeps with it each night?" Maggie asked.

Troy nodded as he pulled pasta out of the pantry, even though she wasn't able to see the action. His mother was one of the few people he had told about Zachary, the other being his wife. "Yeah, he told me, calls it Stripes." He remembered the stuffed toy clearly. A stuffed tiger, from a local zoo.

"Yeah, he loves that thing."

“So Mom, what did the therapist say?” Troy asked after a few moments of silence.

Maggie went quiet for a moment, then her voice softened. "The therapist said he had Gender Identity Disorder. Actually, your fathers not to sure what to think now. The second opinion said the same thing.”

“Well, with the anti gay attitude from his side of the family, I'm not shocked. Hell, for being part Native American, Grandpa was a total racist. ” Troy replied. “So how are you dealing with it?”

“One day at a time.” Maggie sighed. “While he's home I let him be a girl. He can dress how he wants, do girl things with his sister."

"Good, And Dad?"

"There were days that he would stomp off and grumble about it, but I think he's coming around."

"How so?" Troy asked.

"The other day he was watching a war movie and the kids were in their room, playing. Caylie came out in one of new dresses and..."

"Who?" Troy asked. "Wait, is Caylie....I'm guessing a name was picked."

"Yeah. She goes by Caylie Noel Patterson now, when she's at home at least."

“Caylie?” Troy stopped what he was doing, nodding in approval again. “I like it.”

“But she didn't want me to tell you. So if she calls, it's a surprise.”

“No problem Mom. I can act surprised.” Troy gave a little laugh.

“Like at Christmas when you would open gifts and then try to re-tape the paper so you wouldn't get caught.” He heard his mother chuckle and he smiled.

“Just like that. Never did find out how you found out.” Troy replied.

“Mom's just know.” Was her only answer.

“Okay, back to dad watching a movie.” Troy prodded.

"So Caylie comes out and just stands there, tears welling up in her eyes as she stood by his chair. She looked right at him and asked. 'Why do you hate me Grandpa? I didn't ask to be born wrong, I just want to be right, inside and out."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. He didn't know what to do, but seeing her there, crying was tearing at his heart. She told him she didn't want to make him sad, but she'd rather be dead if she couldn't be herself anymore. She told him what she told you and I last time, that each time he forced her to man up, she hated herself for listening. She hated herself for making him angry, but she hated herself for being a liar to herself. Then she looked at him and asked why he hated her again. "

"What did he do?" Troy asked.

"He leaned forwards and pulled her into a hug and told her he couldn't hate someone that sweet." Maggie said. "I watched them from the kitchen. She really won him over, Troy. I know I saw tears and that night he asked what he needed to do to make this right."

"What did she say?"

"Just to let her be a girl and she'd be one of his two best granddaughters."

Troy smiled at that. "Did he?"

"Well, the next day, he started to use her girl name, so I'd say we made progress."

"So how did Vance find out?"

"Caylie told him about the therapist before we could tell her not to. He pressed her for information, then he demanded to speak to Dad. Your father said he was pissed off at what she said and demanded that he 'beat the gay' out of him"

Troy sighed. "And he wonders why he doesn't stay out of jail?"

"Yeah. No one said he was smart." Maggie's voice seemed like it was about to crack. In the background he heard the door open up and the sounds of two children talking at a fast rate could be plainly heard. He could hear two sets of feet running through the house and he glaced at the clock and guessed that the school bus had finally got them home “Troy, just a moment.” He could hear his mother's voice get muffled, as though she covered the phone with her hand. Then a second later she came back. “Son, I got someone here who want's to speak with you.”

“Cool.” He replied.

A second later a young voice, one that sounded almost girlish came on the line. “Uncle Troy?” The voice bubbled with excitement. “It's....Um” The tiny voice trailed off and he could hear whispering in the background. When the voice spoke up again, there was an air of confidence about it that had been missing seconds before. “It's Caylie, your niece.”

“Caylie? Name's not ringing any bells. I don't know any Caylie who's my niece. Maybe I called the wrong house” Troy smiled slightly, another gesture lost to the evil phone He hoped his joke didn't hurt the young girl. But before it could go on too long, he continued. “Oh wait....you mean that Caylie? One of my two beautiful niece's? The one who had to curl up between me and my wife the past few years as as we watched the Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah.” The little voice said. He could almost swear he heard her bouncing in place.

“I see you picked out a very beautiful name.” Troy stated. “How are you doing?”

“Well school was bad, they won't let me wear my dresses there and the girls wont talk to me. They think it's weird that a boy wants to hang out with them. But I'm not a boy.”

“You haven't told them that, have you?” Troy asked.

“No. I want to, but Nana said not to.”

Troy almost asked who Nana was, then he recalled what the kids called his parents. “I know and it hurts that you can't be you, but for now it keeps you safe.”

“I know.” The little girl replied, her tone getting sour. Again he heard whispering in the background and the happy bubbling voice returned. “Oh yeah, you remember that gift card you and Aunt Amy left in my stocking? The bookstore one? I used it.”

“Oh? What did you get? War and Peace? The Brothers Karamazov? The poems of Poe?” He asked, chuckling as he made dinner for his wife.

“Noooo, Silly!” She held out the oh sound and giggled. “I got good books. Real books, like the Harry Potter books. And a few books from a series called American Girl. Papa didn't seem happy about it at first, till I, but I said I could share with Arianna.”

Troy stepped away from the stove. “Yes and that's the best part to a book. Sharing something you love with people you care about.”

“You wanna read them?” She asked.

“No, I'm too busy to read lately. Besides I got my own books to keep me going.” He replied. "So how are things with Grandpa now?"

"Better. He actually calls me his princess now."

"That's good. How about your sister?" Troy asked.

"She wants to call me her sister, but she knows it's a secret too."

"At least she wants to spend time with you."

Once again he heard the voice in the background and the girl stopped talking. Her voice bubbled some more as she came back on. “Nana says I need to let Arianna talk now, Can I call you later?” She asked.

He chuckled. “Caylie, anytime you want to talk, just have Grandma pick up the phone.”