NotExpected 01

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn A chance dinner date brings echoes of the past. A strong sense of déjà vu has Andi wondering where this will lead.

Chapter 1

I normally like watching snow fall when I am in a warm dry place. But not today. I prefer to be holed up somewhere comfy when it happens.

It started snowing early afternoon and there’s already four inches of the stuff on the ground with another four inches on its way to join it. It is also rush hour. It will take me over an hour and a half to make the thirty minute drive home if I leave now. The commute time will be about forty five minutes if I wait an hour or so for the rush hour traffic to clear.

I am standing in the atrium of the corporate headquarters of Broussard Industries pondering my options while the snow falls heavily outside. I am not the only one. There are about a dozen other people who all seem to be contemplating a solution to the same dilemma. With Christmas a week away, I could go shopping while waiting for the traffic to clear. I could also go out to dinner by myself or even head back to my office to work a bit longer. I have already completed my gift shopping, dinner at a restaurant by myself wasn’t appealing, and I’ve already put in a long day. Sitting in traffic with thousands of other people didn’t sound like fun either.

A young man standing by me sighs and states the obvious. “It looks like we’re stuck for a while.”

Turning to me, he asks, “Andi, I can help you dig out your car if you are leaving.”

“Do I know you?” I asked puzzled.

“Probably not,” he admitted, “But I know who you are.”

That’s not unusual, given that my adoptive parents own the building we are standing in and the company that occupies it.

“Andrea Marie Broussard,” he starts, “computer engineer extraordinaire. High school volleyball star, Prom Queen, and should have been Valedictorian of our high school class."

"Kelley earned it," I pointed out. "Wait! We were classmates?"

"Maybe she did earn it," he admitted, ignoring my question, "but the rumor is that you intentionally blew your final exam in a science class, which dropped you to third in the class. Right behind two of your best friends."

I am not about to admit to anything. "Is that all?"

I take a hard look at him as he continues. He does look vaguely familiar. He also triggers feelings that I have not experienced in a very long time.

"Not hardly" he said, and then proceeded to summarize more of my accomplishments. "You had three high profile patents and a BS in Computer Engineering by the time you graduated from High School. You completed your master’s degree at MIT in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science in two years, adding four more patents in the process. You now collaborate with your father on the development of new medical technologies which your mother then turns into a fortune.

"Depending on which rumors a person listens to, you are either 21 years old or 41.

"In high school, you had a hard time getting a date because you have the scariest parents in the world. The few boys that asked you out were so intimidated by your overprotective parents that they rarely took you out more than once. Rumor has it that you had to pay the biggest geek in our class $1,000 to take you to the Prom because no one else was brave enough, or clueless enough, to do so.

"By the way, afterwards he said that the pay wasn't worth the hassle of dealing with your parents.

"You were elected Prom Queen in part because you were the most beautiful girl in our class, both inside and out, and because you were likeable in spite of being the best at almost everything.

"Oh, and you lead an all female crew in sailing races with great success. Do you want to hear more?”

“Are you stalking me?” I ask while looking at him askew. "And I only paid $500 for the prom date. But I paid for the limousine and dinner on top of it."

He laughed. He has a nice laugh. “Actually, I think that there are a lot of people who know about you. I would be surprised if you remembered me. My name is Pete Campbell. My most notable accomplishment in high school was to be captain of the debate team. I finished tenth in our class.”

I looked even more closely at him. He appears to be a little over six feet tall with rugged good looks. He looks very fit. He has the tan of someone who spends a lot of time outdoors. His bulky winter coat can’t hide a set of broad shoulders. Unbidden, I feel myself being attracted to him in a way that I have never experienced before. I am developing a gooey feeling. I try to shake it off.

Searching my memory, I do remember a serious boy from high school by that name. I think that we shared a few classes together.

I smile at him, “You were always better than me in Government class. As I recall, you made yourself scarce when I came around. I thought that you didn’t like me but could never figure out why. I remember you as being a bit awkward around girls. You’ve changed. What are you doing here?”

His face lit up when he realized that I remembered him. “I am doing a short internship in your legal department over the holidays. I am a first year law student.”

I snort at him with a playful smile. “It’s not MY legal department. It’s my parent’s legal department. I just work here as a lowly engineer-in-training.”

“Yes,” he snorts back with a grin, ‘“with an office on the executive level. I hear that all lowly engineers-in-training have such an office.”

“You are stalking me,” I playfully accuse him. Am I really flirting with this guy? “How do you know about my office?”

“No, I am not stalking you,” he laughs. “It’s just that I went to a meeting about the status of some new patent applications up on the executive level this morning with my mentor. I noticed your name on the door to your office. Your mother chaired the meeting, by the way. She’s a force of nature. I can see why you had trouble getting dates."

Looking a bit nervous, he changes the subject, “I know an old restaurant within a couple of blocks of here. My parents have been going there for decades. It’s really good. Would you consider joining me for dinner while we wait for the traffic to clear? My treat.”

I look out at the falling snow and contemplate wading through ankle deep snow to have dinner with a classmate that I’ve never really met, but who I seem to want to know better. I am glad that I chose to wear boots with a sensible heel today. Unfortunately the knee length dress is not really up to the weather. I decide to take him up on his offer.

I laugh, “Do you have a death wish? Do you think that you are up to enduring the scrutiny of my parents?”

He looks nervous, “Are they still vetting your dates?”

“Let’s just say that they never cease to worry about their little girl,” I grinned at him.

He swallows hard. I catch myself thinking, my goodness, this guy is really cute when he’s worried.

“Let me run up to my office and change first.” I suggest. “I keep clothes up there that are better suited to walking a couple of blocks in this weather. I won’t be a minute or two.”

“I’ll wait.” He smiles broadly, throwing caution to the wind.

Twenty minutes later, we walk into a small restaurant in one of our city’s old landmark hotels and my heart stops.

Twenty years ago I had dinner here with a girl that I had just met while waiting for the traffic to clear during a similarly bad snow storm. A girl with whom I fell madly in love that same night.

Pete notices the blood drain from my face, “Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost,” He asks with true concern.

“What’s the date today?” In somewhat of a daze, I ask my handsome companion.

“The 19th,” he responds, “Why?”

I first truly fell in love at this very place twenty years ago today. Only then, I was the tall, handsome young man. I married that girl the next summer.

The Maitre d' showed us to the very same table that I had shared with Sandra that night long ago. A strong sense of dejavu washed over me.

Can history be repeating itself, after a fashion?

If so, can it turn out differently this time around?

-----<0>-----

Author's note: I've been working on this story for a few months now. It is over 40,000 words and climbing. Watching this story unfold has been truly fascinating for me. I hope that you enjoy it too. I plan on posting chapters of variable length once a week or so as long as there are still readers.

 

NotExpected 02

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn I first truly fell in love at this very place twenty years ago today. Only then, I was the tall, handsome young man. I married that girl the next summer. The Maitre d' showed us to the very same table that I had shared with Sandra that night long ago. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over me. Can history be repeating itself, after a fashion? If so, can it turn out differently this time around?

Chapter 2

Sandra and I became husband and wife in a beautiful wedding ceremony on top of a hill in a park overlooking Lake Michigan in June of 2000. It was the best day of my life. All of our family and friends were there. We were very much in love and the future looked bright.

We had both just graduated from college with our baccalaureate degrees. My degree was in Information Technology and hers in Finance. Over the next two years, Sandra earned her MBA while I was our sole support, having taken a full time job in the IT department at the university. One of the benefits that the university provided was a tuition break for immediate family members, so we were able to afford Sandra’s advanced degree. We lived lean but were happy. Once she graduated (at the top of her class) she was offered a job at the local office of a major investment firm. The plan was for me to go to grad school after she completed her MBA, but that never materialized for a variety of lame reasons. We were both happily busy establishing ourselves in our new careers. When we were at home, we were a great team and loved every minute we spent together. Eventually, more due to her rising salary than my steady one, we bought a three bedroom condominium in an upscale development.

The only fly in the ointment, so to speak, was the fact that we wanted to have a family but were unsuccessful in our attempts. It seemed that the failure to have children only fueled the desire to have them. Sandra became obsessed with the need to get pregnant and have her own children. Sex became a daily task, some times more than once daily, which was fine with me.

For a while anyway.

Our families weren't helping matters either. Particularly our mothers and her three older sisters. My little sister was a problem too. The group of them were constantly providing helpful hints and suggestions on how to get pregnant. All of our sisters were moms and somehow Sandra felt like a second class citizen because of our infertility. Our mothers were the worst. Every conversation with the two mothers ended up focused on our infertility and how to overcome it.

We spent a fortune on infertility treatments only to discover that I was probably the one unable to produce children. The doctors always held out hope that we could find a way around the problem.

They were wrong.

It seemed that no matter what we did, there were no results. We started to venture off the beaten medical path and tried all sorts of procedures that were the stuff of folklore and questionable voodoo magic. It was getting all too weird for me but Sandra would pursue anything that held out the least ray of hope. She became almost single focused and it was affecting our relationship, and bank accounts, in a negative way.

One of the side effects of infertility treatments is that they kill intimacy in a relationship as sex becomes a chore. This proved to be true for us. After a few years, our joyful union had become strained to the point that the joy of our relationship had significantly waned. Sex was pretty much required every time we saw each other and it wasn't about intimacy anymore.

Frankly, I was more than tired of it.

We had discussed a number of options. One was adoption, but Sandra was extremely obsessed with having her own child. Another idea floated about was to use sperm from a sperm bank, but I vetoed that idea as I didn't want to play father to my wife's child by another man. Similarly, neither one of us were fond of the idea floated by one friend who suggested that Sandra have one night stands with other men until she got pregnant, a much cheaper alternative to a sperm bank. It should be noted that one of her sisters offered the services of her husband who was a proven baby maker. Neither of us liked that idea either.

So imagine the fireworks when I suggested that we stop trying so hard and accept the fact that we were going to be childless. I felt that if we could resign ourselves to the reality of the situation that we could work at reestablishing the joy that we had lost. Unfortunately, all reason had long since fled and she could not stand to give up on her dream.

For months after my suggestion, things were very frosty in our home. She even, half heartedly, pitched the idea of divorce and seemed to think that she needed to find a man that could give her what she needs. The only problem with finding another man, she said, was that she still loved me and wanted to keep me in her life. She said when she looked deep in her heart she found that she'd rather be childless with me than find another man to father and raise her children. Things were dark indeed!

One evening, I found her looking at me thoughtfully.

"What do you say to one more try at treatment, Andy?" She asked hopefully. When she saw my frown, she quickly continued, "I promise that it will be the last attempt and it won't take long."

"Sandra..." I began to respond.

"Really," She interrupted me with puppy dog eyes that I haven't seen in a while, "only one more attempt. If it doesn't work, then we resign ourselves to being childless."

I sighed. I've heard this before.

"What do you have in mind" I asked in resignation.

"I have a new client,” Sandra went on to explain, “whose grandmother is some kind of priestess of an ancient religion, voodoo probably, and is a bit unorthodox. He claims that his grandmother can help us find a solution to our problem."

Sandra, as a junior financial advisor, has been developing her clientele base over the past few years as she worked to get herself established. Sandra had been unusually successful and was viewed as a rising star in the industry. She had been making a name for herself by focusing on the medical technology industry and seemed to have an uncanny knack for finding up and coming research and development companies for her clients to invest in. She was, by far, the largest income producer in our marriage. My work on the staff of the IT department at the local university provides a good steady income and benefits, but does not hold the promise of wealth that Sandra's job did.

"Where did you meet this guy?" I asked somewhat dubious.

"A few months ago I was assigned to handle his account at work." She replied with an unusual gleam in her eye. "We've been meeting regularly over the past few months as we work out his investment strategy. He is also starting up a new venture and I’ve been connecting him with interested investors."

"And you told this stranger about our problems?" I asked somewhat indignantly. "I thought that you kept your personal life out of business."

"Well," She admitted somewhat sheepishly, "We've been meeting fairly regularly and he noticed that I was down after one of our recent arguments about stopping infertility treatments. So I mentioned our lack of children. In the course of the conversation, he mentioned his grandmother. He gave me her phone number a few days later after he'd called her to see if she could help. She told him that there was a good chance that she could, so I called and talked with her. She sounds like a very nice lady and she is pretty sure that she can help me have a baby."

What I didn't know then, was that her "meeting fairly regularly" turned out to be Tom finding lots of excuses to have frequent lunch "meetings". I also found out later that Tom had fallen for Sandra the first time he met her. It was love at first sight for him. He did know that she was married, but he felt compelled to see her as often as possible anyway. He was conflicted but did his best to not interfere with our marriage. While Sandra also felt attracted to him at first sight, she was committed to our relationship and she made sure that their lunches were never more than friendly conversation. She did, however, feel conflicted over her growing friendship with Tom and made sure to never encouraged his affections. Tom was a wealthy single guy about our same age with a mechanical engineering degree. He recently came into a lot of money as a result of the sale of his manufacturing company to a big defense contractor. He had a number of lucrative patents and his company had been growing quickly. He was working with Sandra to manage his wealth. He was also using her expertise to explore opportunities in the medical technology industry as he is starting up a new company to manufacture new medical technology of his own design.

"What's it going to take?" I asked with resignation.

"Well, we'll have to go to Louisiana to meet with her." She looked at me with a hopeful expression as she continued with her sales pitch. "Apparently she lives on some backwater Bayou and doesn't like to travel. She says that we should plan on spending a morning with her. If she can help, it won't take too long. We could spend a couple of days exploring New Orleans while we are at it. I hear that it is an interesting city and we could use a little vacation."

"Is this going to be like the guy who claimed to be a Native American medicine man that had us dance wearing only war paint in his tepee while he burned questionable substances before having us perform sex in a convoluted position?" I asked. That had been one weird treatment, not to mention embarrassing.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I promise that this will be the last time that I bother you about getting pregnant. If this doesn't work I will quit trying and we'll find happiness without children. We will continue to be best friends."

"You promise?" I asked to make sure.

"I promise", she sighed with resignation.

 

 

NotExpected 03

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn "I don't know," she admitted, "but I promise that this will be the last time that I bother you about getting pregnant. If this doesn't work I will quit trying and we'll find happiness without children. We will continue to be best friends." "You promise?" I asked to make sure. "I promise", she sighed with resignation.

Chapter 3

So, within a month we found ourselves bouncing along an old dirt road through moss infested trees looking for Tom's grandmother's house in the backwoods of southern Louisiana. It was an early morning in mid-September 2009 and the weather was comfortable but there was the promise of a hot, humid afternoon.

I had joined Sandra and Tom for a couple of lunches to discuss the situation before fully committing to the idea. Tom turned out to be a geeky looking engineer who was a very likeable guy from southern Louisiana. He stood at 6'1" and had a readily available easy smile. He was broad shouldered and reasonably fit. With a little effort he could have been quite good looking. A real lady killer.  But he had a geek's careless attitude towards his appearance.

Like me he was a techno geek. Unlike me, he had been professionally highly successful. He completed a master's degree in mechanical engineering at a highly respected technical university by the time he was 22 and filed for his first patent that same year. It wasn't long after filing for the patent that he started his own manufacturing company which became quite well known in the defense industry, primarily due to his many inventions and patents. He had also been very successful at recruiting a lot of very bright people to handle the various aspects of the business. About six months before I met him, he'd sold his company to a huge, well known, defense contractor for about $100 million dollars. He went from being very well to do to very rich overnight. Being a workaholic with an endless supply of ideas left to explore, he was on the hunt for new opportunities. A non-competitive agreement kept him out of the defense industry for two years after the sale of his business so he turned to the next most lucrative field for inspiration. He had been flying around the world consulting with medical industry professionals to find a niche where he could have success designing and manufacturing medical equipment and devices. Sandra had provided major assistance by connecting him to the right people in the industry. Less than a year in the business, he had already filed for one patent and was starting to put together another research & development team and a manufacturing operation here in Wisconsin.

At thirty-one years old, Tom was our age and still single. He had been so wrapped up in his work that there hasn't been a lot of time for relationship building outside the profession. I got the sense that work was the center of his life. Tom and I probably would have been good friends if it wasn't for the fact that he was obviously smitten with my wife.

I found out later that he had dated off and on but that girls were not the top of his priority list so nothing came of it. No girl had been able to compete with his first love: work. That is until he met Sandra. Some switch was thrown when he first laid eyes on my wife. It was like a whole new world lit up for him. I could relate to that as the same thing happened to me when I first met her.

Regardless of his attraction to Sandra, I liked the guy and he seemed to really want to help us. It was obvious that he and Sandra were good friends and friends like to help friends.

Frankly, I was only pursuing his offer so that Sandra would finally give up on her dream. Or maybe that is to have her give up on our dream, something that I had already done. I had lost faith. I also noticed the way that Sandra's eyes lit up with hope when she looked at me as we discussed the possibility of having a child with the help of Tom's grandmother. I could see genuine love when she looked at me with pleading eyes. I also saw the deeply rooted desire to become a mother.

The night before we were to meet with Grandma Broussard, we had checked into the local two story clapboard hotel (it wasn't much to write home about). The building looks as if it came out of the late 1800s or early 1900s. It was neatly kept, but very old fashioned and rated two stars, if you were generous. Sandra was excited about the upcoming meeting, telling me that she had a good feeling about this and that she was sure that we'd soon be parents.

Grandma Broussard's house must be a relation to the hotel. It is an old clapboard house built on a raised foundation of cinder block piers. It had a big covered veranda on the front and a large deck on the back. The back deck overlooked a swampy looking Bayou that is about twenty yards away. There is a small pier in the Bayou with a couple of skiffs tied to it. Sitting on the porch in a rocking chair was an old woman in her early 80s who could only be Grandma Broussard.

We parked the rental SUV next to an old beat up pickup truck. An old hound dog who was lounging on the deck greeted us with a half hearted bark. The hound apparently served as an alarm system, if not security. His bark was not enthusiastic and he didn't bother to rise from his reclined position. Only his tail wagged in greeting as we climbed the stairs to the front porch. A quick word from Grandma Broussard, silenced her companion.

Getting up from her rocking chair Grandma hugged my wife and said with a thick southern accent, "You are as purdy as Tom says, Sandra. Welcome."

Grandma looked like your typical poverty stricken old lady. She was wearing a faded old shapeless house dress and had flip flops on her feet. Her gray hair was pulled up into an untidy bun. Her most notable feature were her sparkling eyes with laugh lines around them.

"Thank you, Mrs. Broussard," Sandra replied with a blush.

"You can call me Grandma," she said, "Everyone else does."

Holding Sandra's hands she stared intently into her eyes as if reading her soul.

After a few minutes she turned to me and scanned me from head to toe with interest before taking my hands into hers.

"And you must be Sandra's husband Andy." Grandma said as she searched my soul as she had Sandra’s. I felt a weird tingling sensation as she held my hands.

"Yes," I replied, feeling a little uneasy, "I am Andy."

After a few moments she released my hands and looked away.

"Yes," she muttered to herself, "this will probably work."

She waved to a small round table on which sat a large flat bottomed steel bowl on top of a concrete paver. There were also four candles arranged around the bowl at each of the four points of the compass, "Have a sit, kids."

Once we were settled into two of the three chairs surrounding the table, Grandma was all business.

She asked quite a few questions about our backgrounds, our current situations, and our hopes for the future.

After the questions, Grandma shared her observations. "I sense a great deal of love between you two. It is clear that you have both been very good for each other. Unfortunately I also sense a hole in both of your lives that only a child can fill. Being childless has put a major strain on your relationship and has brought overall sadness to both of you. I also sense that the obsession to have children has impacted other areas of your lives. Sandra, while you are doing well in your profession, your obsession with having a child has been such a distraction that you are not reaching your full potential. Andy, I sense that you are operating well below your potential professionally, in part because of you feel a need to support your lovely wife in her crusade to have a baby. I strongly feel that if you two continue on the path that you are on that you have a fair to good chance of maintaining the strong bond that you have to each other, but without children of your own neither of you will find the fullness of happiness you each seek. Sandra, your need for children is much stronger than Andy's. Andy, you are willing to accept a childless marriage and would remain Sandra's best friend even if you cannot produce a child. Sandra, I fear for your ability to find a happy balance in your life if you do not become a mother. Your lack of balance will ultimately take the heart out of your marriage and you will, at best, just become just two good friends sharing life together. At worst, your marriage will disintegrate and you two will go your separate ways, having broken hearts that may never fully heal. I sense that there are already signs that your relationship is slowly degrading. It is good that you have come to me for help."

She paused for a moment. Sandra and I looked at each other then affirmed Grandma's observations about our current situation. Her predictions were unsettling.

"Let me make sure that I have the bottom line right." She said, taking a radical turn in the conversation, becoming very blunt. Looking at Sandra she said, "You really want to have a baby and it hasn't worked out because Andy here isn't producing what it takes."

And to think that I was starting to like the old lady. This change in attitude had me reevaluating my first impression. I didn't cared much for where Grandma Broussard seemed to be heading.

"You could say that." Sandra replied uneasily.

"You also want Andy to be an intimate part of your life, even if he can't produce." Grandma stated as an implied question.

"Yes," Sandra replied with a frown. I think that she was also confused by Grandma's line of questioning.

"I also understand that you don't want to break up your relationship with Andy through an affair or one night stand with someone who can give you what you want?" Grandma continued.

"I want the baby to be a product of love," Sandra replied testily, "I want the baby to have two loving biological parents. And Andy is the love of my life, so I want him to be a part of this. I am committed to our marriage vows."

"It would seem that you are in a difficult place, my friends." Grandma pointed out. "Are you willing to see what the magic can do to help you?"

"Yes, Grandma." Sandra replied. "Can you help?"

"I think so," she replied with a smile. "I sense that the magic has a plan for you. However, I think that the results will be different than you expect. Can you handle that?"

"Just so long as I can have a baby in the bounds of a loving marriage!" Sandra replied eagerly.

"Just what do you mean by the results being different?" I demanded.

"You will see," Grandma gave me a sad smile. "In time. But I assure you that all will be well in the end. You both will find the happiness that you seek. You will both also more fully fulfill your potential in all other areas of your lives. You will ultimately attain greater peace and happiness as the result of what we do here today."

Turning back to Sandra, she asked, "Did you bring what I asked?"

"Yes," Sandra said as she began to rummage around in her purse. She extracts a half inch diameter bolt and a half inch nut and hands them to Grandma. The bolt is coarse threaded and the nut is fine threaded so they don't actually fit together. "We've kept these on our night stand for the last fortnight as you requested."

Grandma turned the nut onto the bolt so that it barely caught, as will happen when you try to join a fine threaded nut with a coarse threaded bolt. She then placed the barely mated pieces in the middle of the large flat bottomed steel bowl. She then pulled out a padded mailing envelope and extracted a fine threaded half inch diameter bolt that she placed next to the mismatched bolt/nut that we gave her. She started chanting in some strange language as she sprinkled herbs and aromatic wood chips over the bolts and nut.

The mixture smelled of an intense potpourri scent that I've smelled in many feminine shops that I've visited with Sandra. It is not a smell that you will find in a sporting goods store.

Once the bowl was filled to overflowing and the hardware was deeply covered, she proceeded to pour fine brandy over the mixture. She swayed back and forth while chanting. As she continued the chant, she proceeded to light each of the four candles before dropping her long match onto the bowl, lighting the contents on fire. Reaching out to us, she had us hold hands around the table while she continued to chant. The chant got more feverish as the fire flared up. The strange tingling sensation that I had felt earlier returned with a vengeance.

Gradually, the fire burned down and out and we let go of each other's hands. The tingling sensation vanished when we let go. Grandma went into meditation mode, sitting still as a statue with her eyes closed. Sandra and I remained silent while we waited for the old woman to do something.

Grandma eventually opened her eyes and smiled at us. Without saying a word, she blew out each of the candles then proceeded to blow gently on the ashes in the bowl, scattering them about but managed to catch some of the ashes in a small bowl.

As the ashes were removed, four nuts and two bolts were uncovered in the bottom of the bowl. The nut we provided is now fully mated with the fine threaded bolt that Grandma had placed next to ours. The coarse threaded bolt had disappeared. To one side of the mated bolt/nut was a three-eighths inch diameter fine threaded nut. This nut is right up next to, and touching, the mated nut. There were also two quarter inch diameter nuts and a quarter inch diameter bolt on the opposite side of the bolt/nut arrangement from the three-eights inch diameter nut. These items are spread about half an inch apart. I also noted that all of the nuts and bolts were now made of stainless steel. The original hardware had not been before the ceremony.

Grandma, at first looked confused. "This is most unexpected," She commented to no one in particular.

Taking the remaining ashes into the house with a "wait here", Grandma returned in a few minutes with two mugs of steaming liquid. One mug was blue and the other was pink. I was given the blue mug and Sandra was given the pink one.

"Please drink all of this." She instructed us. "This tea is made from the ashes of the ceremony and will activate the magic."

The bitter drink was difficult to get down. Both Sandra and I grimaced after we taste it.

"Please drink all of it." She directed.

It is a tough go, but we did get it all down.

After we've finished the drink, she looked at Sandra, she said, "The results are most unexpected. The signs tell me that in nine months time, you will have a very young teenage girl in your life, but she will not be a child of your body. The three-eights nut represents this girl. This girl will be your companion through both good and trying times and you will love her as a close friend and confidant throughout your life. You will be best friends until death do you part. She is represented by the mid-sized nut that is touching the nut threaded on the bolt. As you see in the center, Sandra, the mated nut and bolt tell me that will you be fully mated with the love of your life in a perfectly matched union that will result in three children as represented by the remaining bolt and nuts. This small bolt and two nuts tell me that you be the mother of a son and two daughters in due time. All these people will bring you great joy throughout your life. Sandra and Andy, you both will attain unimagined levels of love and happiness as your lives progress. Happiness will follow you both throughout your lives and you will never be truly parted. The fact that they all turned to stainless steel indicates that everyone's love will be resistant to the corrosive influences of the world. As a side benefit, every person represented here will be of above average beauty."

"What's my part in this?" I asked pointedly.

Grandma looked at me with slight annoyance. "The love that you share with Sandra will grow in directions currently unimaginable. You will rejoice in this love throughout your life. You will be an integral part of this growing family. You and Sandra will be forever close."

"But will I still be her husband?" I asked.

Grandma just gave me a sad smile and said, "You will see soon enough what your role is. I can only tell you that it is good that you came to me. Without this magic, I fear that in the natural course of things your relationship with Sandra would collapse. There is still a chance that you'd be friends, but I saw nothing but loneliness and sadness. The resulting despondency would have major negative impacts in all aspects of both of your lives. While you would both experience unhappiness and loneliness, in the end, it would be worse for you than for your wife. She would eventually find another man to father her children and fill her need. You would wallow in loneliness. The strain of childlessness, when a child is desired as strongly as Sandra desires one, is more than most couples can handle. That is all that I will tell you for now."

She reached into the pocket of her house dress and extracted a blue crystal which she handed to me.

"You should put this somewhere in your house where you'll see it every day, young man." She directed. "It will be an indicator of the success of our ceremony over time. It will change color as the magic does its work. When it has completely changed color, come talk to me again. You will have many questions."

I just gave a humph as I accepted the crystal. This was all hocus pocus anyway, like all the other odd ball treatments we'd tried so I didn't press her for any more information.

"Well," Grandma said with a smile, "I have done all that I can for you. Maybe you'd like to stay and visit a while."

We did stay. The conversation quickly devolved into girl talk and my mind started to wander which, of course, Grandma noticed.

"My dear boy," she addressed me, "perhaps a little fishing might be of more interest to you than all this girl talk. Why don't you go down to the Bayou and see what you can catch. There are lots of catfish in these waters. There's a pole and bait in one of the boats. Just don't go too far. It's easy to get lost in the swamp."

That sounded like a good idea to me. I hadn't been fishing in a while and never in this area. I am rather good at fishing. I'm just not good at catching. Something about sitting in a boat with a rod and reel is comforting even if you don't catch anything.

So I spent the next couple of hours playing around in one of the skiffs and occasionally trying to catch a fish. I successfully caught three good sized catfish. I cleaned the fish with a knife that I found with the boat and presented them to Grandma when I got back to the house.

"That will make a nice dinner, boy." She smiled at me. "You two should stay and help me eat them."

"Honey," Sandra got my attention. "It is getting a bit late. We are going to New Orleans tonight. We should get going before it gets too late."

I took that as my queue that it is time to go. We said goodbye to Grandma Broussard with hugs and cheek kisses then started the drive to New Orleans.

"How'd you get along with Grandma?" I asked, making conversation as we traveled.

"Great!" Sandra said enthusiastically, "She has lots of family and I think that I heard about everyone of them, complete with pictures in her living room. It appears that Tom is one of her favorite grandchildren which is why she consented to help us. I get the feeling that she has been retired for a while and only helps people when family asks for it."

"Did you feel anything when she first held your hands and during the ceremony?" She asked.

"Yes," I affirmed. "It was weird."

"I did too," Sandra said thoughtfully. "It did feel weird."

"What do you think of what happened?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure what to make of it," she admitted. "You know that she's right about our strained marriage."

"I know," I sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Andy," she gave me an apologetic smile, "It's all my fault. I just can't seem to shake this overwhelming desire to become a mother. I have tried."

"I know you have, sweetheart," I reassured her.

"I will do better," she promised. "I will be a good wife and accept our childlessness if the babies she promised don't come."

"Are you sure that I will be the father of the children she predicted?" I asked her. "It didn't sound that way to me."

"That was confusing," she admitted. "I don't really know what to make of it. However, she did promise that our love would grow and that we'd be close throughout our lives. I can't see anyone else being the father of my children and us still being so close and in love. I want to believe that it will be you. I love you and there's nobody else that I want."

"Not Tom?" I asked.

"That's low," she started to get a little angry with me. "Tom is a great guy. I do like him a lot. While I do find him attractive, he is just a friend. A good friend. Nothing more. He can't compete with you. I know that my baby obsession has caused a strain on our marriage, but don't think for a minute that I would break our marriage vows for anyone. I really do love you more than anyone on earth. I am in this marriage until death do us part. Divorce is not an option. You are stuck with me, Andy, no matter what."

Despite Sandra's good intentions, I still had an uneasy feeling about Grandma's predictions. I wasn't sure why. After all, this ceremony would more than likely to be nothing more than an expensive waste of time. Just like all our other attempts.

"Did you ask her how much we owe for her services?" I asked.

"Oh, she said that wasn't necessary," she replied. "Being friends of Tom's, she thinks of us as family."

In hindsight, that statement should have set off some warning bells for me.

NotExpected 04

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Despite Sandra's good intentions, I still had an uneasy feeling about Grandma's predictions. I wasn't sure why. After all, this ceremony would more than likely to be nothing more than an expensive waste of time. Just like all our other attempts. "Did you ask her how much we owe for her services?" I asked. "Oh, she said that wasn't necessary," she replied. "Being friends of Tom's, she thinks of us as family." In hindsight, that statement should have set off some warning bells for me.

Chapter 4

We did spend time exploring New Orleans and had a wonderful mini-vacation. The two days of exploring the city together, along with candle lit dinners and evening walks, even brought a little romance back into our lives. Sandra went way out of her way to demonstrate how much she loved me. The sex was the best we'd had in a long time as there was no schedule to keep or pressure to perform. I had hoped that this would bring the child Sandra wanted so badly and repair our strained marriage. The vacation definitely helped our marriage, but did not produce a child.

When we got home, it was back to the same old work grind. We did spend relaxing evenings together and had fun hiking in the woods on the weekends to see the brilliant fall colors. There was little discussion about babies. Life seemed to be settling down. If anything, we were starting to enjoy each other's company more than we had in a long time. Our sex life had also improved dramatically, at least for the first month.

Over the weeks following our return things started to change.

The first thing that I noticed is that my appetite all but disappeared. I started skipping breakfast. After a month the only food that I was consuming was a snack at lunchtime and bird-like portions at dinner. Within two months of our visit to Grandma Broussard dinner no longer held any real appeal to me. I was losing weight at a steady rate. This was not particularly a bad thing as I was a little pudgy around the middle without being significantly overweight. I was in need of new clothes at the end of two months as my old wardrobe was definitely meant for a heavier man. I also lost a little height and muscle mass.

"Andy," my mother looked concerned, "why aren't you eating?"

We were visiting my parents for a Sunday dinner towards the end of October.

"I am," I pointed to the small helping of mixed vegetables and a very small piece of pork chop on my plate. I had barely touched my salad.

"That's not eating," my Father pointed out. "That's snacking."

"Did you eat before coming over?," Mom asked with a touch of accusation in her voice.

"No, Mom," I told her. "I'm just not hungry these days."

"I'm concerned about him," Sandra pointed out. "He's hardly eating anything these days. He's lost over ten pounds in the last month."

"It's a bit concerning," I admitted. "But I can stand to lose the weight. I'm sure that my appetite will come back soon. At least I hope so. And I'm not the only one. Sandra is eating less and has lost a few pounds as well."

"Yes," Mom observed, "She has lost a few pounds and she looks good. While she's not eating much tonight, she took twice as much as you did. She's still eating like a woman should. Your eating is just out of character. And you don't look healthy either."

"I'm doing fine, mother," I responded.

Have you gone to the doctor about this?" Mom asked. "You really should be seen."

"Not yet," I admitted. "If this keeps up another week, then maybe I will."

"Make an appointment tomorrow," my Father directed. "If you don't, you'll never hear the end of it."

Both women at the table glared at him.

"In the meantime," Mom said, "here's some mashed potatoes. You could use with a big helping."

A couple of days later we had dinner with Sandra's parents.

Looking at my tiny portions, my mother-in-law asked, "Is there something wrong with the food Andy?"

Before I could get a reply out, Sandra informed her, "It's not the food, Mom. Andy hasn't been eating anything lately. He has lost his appetite and a lot of weight over the past month."

"The food is great," I managed to interject into the conversation. "I just can't eat much right now."

"Have you seen a doctor?" she asked with great concern. "I hear that people with cancer lose their appetites. Maybe you have cancer. You should get checked out."

I was given a double helping of apple pie ala mode that night 'to help me gain some weight'. It was a struggle to get it down, but I had to do it. My mother-in-law was watching my every bite.

That night, Sandra was feeling exceptionally amours. When we got home, she disappeared into our bedroom, while I turned on the evening news in the living room.

Sandra walked up quietly behind the couch and put her arms around my neck and nibbled on my ear.

"You might want to turn the TV off lover," she whispered in my ear.

She came around the couch as I complied with her request.

She was wearing a very sexy negligee that I had never seen before. I stared at her as she posed before sitting on my lap.

"See anything you like, big boy?" she purred while planting gentle kisses all over my face before planting her lips on mine for the most passionate kiss that I had received in a long time.

Coming up for air, I responded. "Somebody went shopping."

"For your eyes only, sweetheart," she responded with a sexy grin.

I won't go into the details of what happened next, but I did my best to hold up my end of the union.

Later, as we cuddled in bed in the afterglow of our love, she purred, "That was wonderful, Andy. You made me come three times."

"I am happy to be of service, my love," I smiled at her. I loved to cuddle with her and was enjoying being close to her.

"We've had some really great sex since we came back from Louisiana, but I sense that it is getting more difficult for you," she observed, "I just wish it wasn't such a struggle for you."

It appeared that she noticed that I had trouble reaching my own climax. It had been getting progressively harder for the last couple of weeks. It was frustrating, but I could still find ways to help her reach hers. If anything, while I was having more and more trouble reaching a climax, she would reach hers more easily than ever before. It didn't take much to get her motor running. I enjoyed watching her glow after each of our sessions.

"You noticed," I said with a sigh. "It is getting more difficult."

"Am I doing something wrong?" she queried with true concern.

"Heavens no!" I exclaimed. "If anything, I've never seen you so sexy in the years we've been married."

In addition to her weight loss she may even have grown a little taller. She was starting to look more like a fashion model than an investment counselor.

"Then what's the problem?" she asked.

"I don't know," I responded, "I think that it's related to the weight loss."

"Well you better follow advice and go get checked out," she directed me. "I've been feeling more aroused lately and I need you at the top of your game."

I made a doctor's appointment the next day.

It was a week before I was able to get in to see our family doctor. It was in early November, six weeks after our vacation in Louisiana. After giving me a basic physical, she ran a few tests over the next couple of days. She could not find any significant health issues, such as cancer. What she did find was that my hormone levels were out of specs with lower than expected testosterone production and a slight increase in estrogen levels. My hormones weren't too far out of balance but enough to cause concern. She also confirmed that my weight had dropped substantially since my prior visit several months earlier. She was also confused by the fact that I appeared to have also lost an inch in height. She agreed that my reduced sex drive was probably related to whatever health problem I was experiencing.

"Andy," the doctor asked, "have you done anything that accounts for the loss of appetite and mixed up hormones? You're not taking any un-prescribed medications are you?

"No medications of any type," I told her. "Not even aspirin. I don't know what's happening with me. That's why I came to you."

Well, the statement about not knowing what's happening to me was technically true, but I was having my suspicions. I had been noticing a distinct pink tinge developing around the edges of the crystal that I received from Grandma Broussard. I had built a stand for it and had placed it in a prominent place in our bedroom. If Grandma was correct, changes are occurring as the magic takes hold in my life. I wasn't, however, prepared to share with the good doctor my growing suspicion that Grandma's magic was at the heart of the problem. It was, after all, nothing but hocus pocus. Wasn't it? And she wouldn't believe me anyway.

"Well," she continued, "I'm going to have to do some research on this. I've never seen anything like your symptoms. In the meantime, I want you to take two of these testosterone pills every night before bed. Come see me next week and we'll see what happens. Here are orders for blood tests. I need you to get your blood drawn the day before you come to see me."

She gave me the hormone pills and sent me on my way.

The pills had no effect. If anything the balance was even more off on my next visit. I had also lost a lot more weight in the intervening week. She began consulting specialists and we started weekly visits to monitor whatever was happening.

I also found that my need to shave daily was getting to be less pronounced with time. When we went to Louisiana, I had fairly heavy stubble and had problems with five o'clock shadow. Sandra used to make me shave after work if we were going out for the evening. By mid-October, I was no longer needing to shave in the evenings. Early in November, I was shaving wispy hairs about three times a week. My face was also getting much softer. My skin was getting clearer and smoother. The doctor was intrigued by this development. Unfortunately, she had no explanation for it outside the hormonal imbalance.

One evening in November, Sandra asked, "Do you think that Grandma Broussard had anything to do with this?"

"I am starting to think so," I admitted.

"I thought you said that it was all hocus pocus," She responded.

"I did," I pointed out, "but there is no other explanation. But you're not pregnant yet. She promised you three children."

"Grandma said that it would take some time." Sandra reminded me. "We are still looking for that young teenage girl to appear. I get the feeling that the pregnancy won't happen until after she shows up."

"I still don't get that." I replied, "Why do we need a teenage girl best friend first?"

"I don't know, lover," She replied, "but maybe we should paint the spare bedroom lavender or pink, get a vanity, and some frilly curtains and bed clothes for the spare room so that we are ready when she arrives."

"Whatever." I responded with a lack of conviction. I didn't say anything to Sandra, but I was just hoping that we weren't decorating my future bedroom.

We painted the room that next weekend. New bedroom furniture was installed the following week. I think that Sandra was starting to believe Grandma's prophecy.

----<0>----

At my extended family's annual Thanksgiving dinner event, I got ribbed mercilessly about my baby face and loss of weight. I was unable to do the feast any justice at all. I only nibbled at a vegetable tray.

----<0>----

One of the unadvertised benefits of working at a university, for most male employees, is the large number of attractive young women around. Given that it was the start of winter in Wisconsin and everyone was bundled in warm clothing, the coeds still manage to look attractive. While I have never been tempted to pursue any of them, any male will tell you that being around attractive women is a plus most of the time. They are easy to appreciate.

One day in mid-December, while returning to the office after a service call, I walked through the student union where it is common to see a lot of people, including the coeds. In times past, I have enjoyed the feminine scenery while walking through the building. So it came as a disturbing surprise to me, as I was leaving the building, when I realized that I had not noticed a single coed. Not one. Stopping and looking back the way that I had come, I saw several groups of girls. All of them quite pretty. I wondered how I had walked past them without noticing.

That evening, I took a good look at Sandra while we worked together at preparing a light dinner. She seemed happy and looked better than she did a few months earlier in the yoga pants and loose sleeveless top that she had changed into after work. Sandra now had a willowy figure that gave your average fashion model a run for her money. She had recently gone bra shopping as her bust had increased from a B cup to a healthy C cup. That night she was wearing a pushup bra and she was making sure that it got into my field of view as often as possible. No longer the dowdy wife that she had been, Sandra had upgraded her wardrobe to make the most of her new beauty and she looked several years younger than she had when this all started. She was being very tactile, occasionally patting my butt, giving me a hip bump when we were trying to occupy the same space, stealing quick kisses, and dispensing hugs on a whim. She was constantly giving me 'come hither' looks with a playful grin. There was no doubt what was on her mind for after dinner entertainment. At one point, I just gathered her into a hug and we slow danced to a song that we had playing in the background. I realized that I just loved to hold her. I also realized that I was not feeling sexually aroused. Not even a stirring. I just had a warm fuzzy feeling of contentment. That night, I focused on pleasuring her. I never did climax. My sex drive was all but gone, but I enjoyed making her happy.

As we approached the New Year, we'd often spend long hours just talking and holding each other. We both opened up to the other more than we had ever done before. I learned more about her life, hopes, and dreams than I ever had. I found myself opening up more about the things that make me tick. More than I ever had with anyone else. Sandra was a great listener and we'd discuss the relationship challenges at our respective jobs and with our families for hours on end. All the conversation seemed to strengthen the bond between us. Even though sex was a challenge, we were actually closer emotionally than we had ever been before.

The only subject that we avoided was Grandma Broussard's magic and Tom's involvement in it. I think that we both hoped that by not talking about the elephant in the room that it would just go away.

It didn't.

As with most conversational elephants, the more we tried to ignore it, the bigger it seemed to get.

While she didn't talk much about him, Sandra told me that she still met with Tom regularly as part of her job. She insisted that the meetings take place at the office and not over lunch. Sandra would have another associate there whenever possible. Tom seemed to be taking the cooling relations well. Sandra said that they were working well as a team to grow his new business venture and to wisely manage his financial resources.

Reports from the family doctor indicated the hormonal battle going on in my blood stream was being won by estrogen. We tried hormone replacement therapy without success. Testosterone was losing the battle but it wasn't going down without a fight. It was embarrassing, but my doctor started to take weekly measurements of my male genitals when they first showed signs of shrinkage. In December, the shrinkage was not dramatic but it was there.

Sandra, of course, noticed. After all she seemed to want to have as much contact with my genitals as possible.

"Andy?" she asked tentatively one evening towards the end of December after a less than satisfactory sexual encounter. "Are your genitals shrinking?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I've lost an inch in length."

"You've been measuring?" she asked a little surprised.

"Actually," I let her know, "the doctor is taking weekly measurements. My genitals are shrinking."

"She better be the only other woman inspecting your equipment," she said playfully.

I blushed.

"She is," I confirmed.

Sandra starting taking her own measurements to monitor the loss.

As I mentioned, Sandra had been undergoing a few subtle changes of her own.

By the New Year, Sandra had become the most beautiful woman that I had ever known. And she was making the most of it with stylish new clothes, hair, and makeup. Her self image was definitely more confident. She was enjoying being the most beautiful woman in every setting. I now had my very own trophy wife.

The looks of appreciation from other men were causing me jealousy issues. When we were out or at Holiday parties, she was hit on a number of times when guys didn't think I was around and/or listening. I'm sure that it happened a lot when I was not around. The good news was that she always rebuffed advances by flashing her wedding ring and letting it be known that she was happily married. I never saw anything from her that would indicate a roving eye on her part even though our sex life was on the rocks.

My changes were also getting some notice. My coworkers were concerned for my health. My extended family was shocked by my appearance when we had family gatherings during the Holidays. Sandra's family also expressed some concern whenever we visited with them. Everyone said that I looked ten years younger, which is a problem since I had my thirty second birthday at the end of December. Being twenty two again isn't all bad, but it has its drawbacks. Unfortunately, I was not becoming a trophy husband to match my trophy wife.

Both of our families, on the other hand, wanted to know the secret to Sandra's transformation. They were all impressed. The women wanted to know what diet she was on and what gym she was working out in.

At the end of the year, the crystal had very pink ends and the pink was slowly and steadily pushing towards the center. The magic was at work.

So by the New Year, my wife was a babe and I was a shrinking skinny androgynous young adult getting younger every day and with out-of-whack hormones and little to no sex drive. In many ways, our friendship was the best it had ever been as the result of our hours of shared thoughts and feelings. While we still worked at sex, it was getting increasingly more difficult for me to perform sexually.

While we never talked about it, both of us were starting to see where Grandma Broussard's magic was taking us.

Neither one of us were thrilled.

 

 

NotExpected 05

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn So by the New Year, my wife was a babe and I was a shrinking skinny androgynous young adult getting younger every day and with out-of-whack hormones and little to no sex drive. In many ways, our friendship was the best it had ever been as the result of our hours of shared thoughts and feelings. While we still worked at sex, it was getting increasingly more difficult for me to perform sexually. While we never talked about it, both of us were starting to see where Grandma Broussard's magic was taking us. Neither one of us were thrilled.

Chapter 5

As we slid into January, my need to shave completely disappeared and I continued to lose weight, muscle mass, height, and apparent age. Sandra, had grown an inch and was now 5' 7". Only two inches shorter than the new me.

When we went to Louisiana, I was 5' 11". At the New Year I was only 5’ 9” tall. At this point my height loss meant that, when Sandra wore moderate heels, we could look at each other eye to eye. When she wore her tallest heels I had to look up slightly to meet her gaze.

The age regression and gender morphing trend was continuing.

The crystal also seemed a touch more pink each day.

The doctor was puzzled. She was collaborating with a number of specialists and no one could figure out what was happening to me. We've tried dietary supplements, exercise, and hormone treatments to no avail. She tried to get me on a high calorie diet, but that failed too, probably because I didn't feel up to eating any of it. I hardly ate at all, but did drink a lot of water and munched on vegetables. It was as if my body was living off fat reserves. I tried working out in the gym to gain back some of the lost muscle, but the exercise had no effect on the decline.

Sandra would often meet me at the gym after work. While the exercise did nothing for my predicament, Sandra’s exercise toned her body and made her all the more attractive. It also energized her. She was pleased with the results which solidified her resolve to stay in shape.

By this point, we were both convinced that Grandma Broussard's magic was not hocus pocus.

We called Grandma Broussard to see what we could do to reverse my changes, but we only got an answering machine and she was not returning calls. Sandra asked Tom to pass the word that we wanted to talk to her, but he hasn't been able to get a hold of her either.

Sandra told me that Tom had complimented her on her new figure but seemed concerned when Sandra told him about the changes that I was experiencing. He redoubled his efforts to get Grandma to talk. The extended family in the area said that she's doing fine. She just doesn't want to discuss our case with anyone, especially us. She relayed back that she'd talk to us after nine months had transpired.

By early February, new developments had me even more worried. My male sex equipment had shrunk considerably. Sandra was not at all happy about that as, if anything, her sex drive was at an all time high. She tried to stimulate me in every way possible, but nothing worked anymore. I could only stimulate her with my fingers, lips and tongue. Our physical relations were starting to feel more like a lesbian relationship. Something that did not appeal to either of us.

So much for having a child together.

"I'm going to have words with Grandma Broussard when I talk to her again." Sandra said with some force one night after a frustrating sexual interlude. It was the mid-February and we were getting very frustrated. "How can she expect me to have children if my husband can't perform sexually!"

"If you remember," I reminded, "she never really answered my question about my role in all this. I think that we both know at this point that I will most likely become that new girl in your life. It certain looks like that with the way things are going. I was mistaken for a coed again at the university this morning."

Yes, at that point I was shorter than my wife. Not only did I shrink but she'd grown another two inches and become a bit more curvy. I had lost my Adam's Apple, no longer needed to shave, and had much softer features. My arms looked like those of a girl and my upper body and waist was shrinking faster than my hips and thighs. The pitch of my voice had moved up an octave. We had gone shopping for new clothes and found that the women's section provided jeans that fit me better than those in the men's section. It was pretty apparent to those watching this process that I was slowly morphing into a young woman.

"What good does that do?" Sandra asked indignantly. "I need a man for a husband. And I want you, Andy!"

"I love you too, babe," I quietly responded.

Neither one of us said anything, but the elephant in the room had gotten bigger. If Grandma’s prophecy was correct and I became the young girl then that only meant that there would be another man who would take my place as her husband. Neither one of us wanted to broach the subject. I was pretty sure that I knew who the lucky guy would be. I was pretty sure that Sandra also knew. I could see it in her eyes. There was extreme conflict there.

It’s true that we still loved each other. We'd been getting closer and closer emotionally over the past months. In fact I found that we were more in tune on so many more things than we had ever been. We had continued having our talks late into the night about all sorts of things and nothing in particular. It was like we were connecting on a whole new level. Even though we were both frustrated sexually, the removal of sexual tension between us opened up new horizons of emotional intimacy.

One weekend morning, Sandra threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. 

"I do love you, Andy." She reassured me. "Probably more than ever but it is different."

"I have felt it to," I responded with a sigh.

"You probably won't like to hear this," She continued with a grimace, "but you are my best friend. As in best girlfriend. I feel that I can talk to you about almost anything, even most girl stuff."

"'Almost anything'?", I questioned her.

"Well," She replied with some discomfort, "there are a few girl things that you don't have a frame of reference for."

"Yet." I add.

The next time I saw my doctor for my weekly visit, I mentioned the observation that I might be transforming into a girl. She admitted that she had reached that conclusion a few weeks earlier, but did not want to broach the subject until I had arrived at the same conclusion. She didn't see how that could be possible, but the blood tests and measurements were confirming that observation. She decided that it was about time that I started seeing a psychologist with experience in gender identity issues. I told her that I had no problem identifying with my male identity. She pointed out that I might need some help identifying with what appeared to by my upcoming female identity. She had a good point.

When I went home that night, I noticed that only the middle half of the crystal was still blue. I sat and stared at it for a long time.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Sandra asked when she saw my troubled expression as I stared at the crystal.

“I’m becoming a girl,” I stated the obvious.

She sighed, “I was wondering when you’d reach that conclusion.”

“That’s pretty much what the doctor said,” I told her about my visit that day with our physician. “She said that she was waiting for me to come to that conclusion.”

“How do you feel about that?” Sandra asked sympathetically.

“I should be mad, I suppose,” I replied reflectively. “I really would rather be the man I was. It’s what I have been all my life and I liked it.”

“So why aren’t you more upset?” she queried.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Maybe it’s because we are closer than ever before. There is a lot less tension in our relationship now. I don’t think that we’d ever get this close emotionally if things had stayed the way they were. I really like where we are with our relationship. It's actually better than it was before we went to see Grandma Broussard.”

“You might be right about that,” she agreed, “I hate to break it to you, Andy, but you are behaving a little more feminine by the day. When we talk, I almost feel like I’m talking with another woman. It’s just not the same as before. While there is still a lot of male in you, your mannerisms are becoming more feminine. You are walking and sitting more like a woman than a man. There are other signs too. I am not the only one seeing it. Several of the women in our families have commented on it to me.”

“What do we do about it?” I rhetorically asked her.

“What more than we are already doing?” she asked in reply. “You have done everything that the doctors recommend and nothing has even slowed the process.”

“And Grandma Broussard is ignoring us.” I pointed out. “I think that only she can reverse this.”

“And she’s not willing,” Sandra agreed. “We’ve tried everything short of going to Louisiana to find her.”

“And if we did go,” I pointed out, “we would probably never find her unless she wants us to, which she doesn't. Even with the help of Tom’s family. She made it pretty clear that she wouldn't talk to us until the nine month anniversary of our visit.”

We both silently reflected on that for a minute.

I break the contemplation with a change in subject, “The Doctor wants me to start seeing a psychologist to help me accept what is happening to me. I think that she has given up hope of reversing these changes.”

Sandra pulls me into a hug and we shed a few tears together.

“That might be a good idea,” she concedes after a few minutes.

“I don’t want to think about what this means for our marriage,” I sadly said.

“Neither do I,” she agreed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. There may still be some way to reverse this that we haven’t found yet.”

----<0>----

Somewhere in the middle of February all sexual contact between Sandra and I ceased. She is not into lesbian relationships, particularly with a teen. I was actually relieved as I was tired of trying so hard to please her while I was basically sexually inert. We both loved each other but we were no longer lovers. I was, by then, a trusted companion and confidant. I was now a BFF.

I also started seeing a psychologist.

----<0>----

As March began, my various symptoms continued to degenerate. Work was becoming a problem. I found that someone who looks like a 16 year old doesn't quite get the respect in a professional environment that a 32 year old does. Especially a 16 year old girl. Yes, most people were mistaking me for a 16 year old girl by then. My coworkers, who had observed this change, still treated me like a valued colleague. Unfortunately, since we were basically a service department, my interface with people that did not know me wasn't going so well. My boss tried giving me as much shop time as possible by sending others out on service calls whenever he could but he could only do so much. Even with a fairly short haircut I looked like a young girl.

"Hello," I said to a faculty member having trouble with his office computer, "I'm from IT. What seems to be the problem?"

"You're with IT?" the faculty member asked incredulously. "Aren't you a little young?"

I sighed. "I'm older than I look and have years of experience. Now what can I help you with?"

"I've heard that teens are better with computers than us old codgers." He replied before telling me what the problem was.

So went life at work. My boss was getting regular calls questioning my experience. He supported me but things were getting out of hand.

----<0>----

My new psychologist and I had started having weekly sessions at in mid-February. She was very experienced in working with the transgendered, but I was a new challenge to her. All her other patients were in a body they didn't want and were working towards changing that. They were already the other gender in their minds before their body could catch up to it. In my case my mind identified itself with my original gender but needed to catch up to a body that had other designs. We didn't know if I needed to adapt mentally to my changes or work to reverse the changes once they were complete. We didn't even know, for sure, how far the changes would go. I'm pretty sure that the shrink was excited about the unique change in pace. She eventually published a paper, with my permission, about my case. She received a lot of notoriety from the publication.

By the end of February after we had had a couple of visits, she started discussing the option of giving into the inevitable and for me to start embracing my new found femininity. She pointed out that the personality profile testing that we had done indicated that I was not only becoming feminine physically, but emotionally as well. I blamed it on all the estrogen coursing through my body.

“How would you suggest that I embrace my new femininity?” I asked her in resignation.

“The most obvious way,” she began, “is for you to start dressing and presenting as a girl.”

“I’m not ready for skirts, dresses and high heels,” I defended.

“Many girls aren’t either,” she informed me. “There are many girls who don’t even own a dress or skirt much less high heels. What I am suggesting is actually just a subtle change to what you are already doing.”

“And what would that entail?” I asked curiously.

“You are already wearing girl’s jeans,” she pointed out. “Start wearing them with panties underneath. Buy a few non-descript plain girl’s blouses and start wearing them. Your work polo shirts should be fine as I expect that the women in your office also wear them. Also, get some girl's shoes and socks. Low or no heels would be fine. Just make sure that everything you are wearing is made for a girl.”

“Aren’t girl’s blouses designed for something up top that I don’t have?” I pointed out.

“Yes,” she admitted, “but your doctor and I think that you will soon start developing breasts. You could solve that problem by wearing an A cup bra with breast form inserts. Many girls use a little enhancing while waiting for nature to do its part. You could also start shaving your legs and arm pits.”

“That sounds a little extreme,” I told her.

“Think about it,” she said. “It’s just a suggestion, but I think that you should at least give it a try. You might just find that you like it.”

After leaving her office I couldn’t get the idea of dressing in all female clothing off my mind. I could see the logic in her suggestion. It fit my current physical profile. I just didn’t think that I was ready for it yet. I needed some time for the idea to settle on my mind.

Over the next couple of days, the more I thought about the suggestion of dressing completely as a girl the less objectionable it became.

I thought that I might just give it a try.

Someday.

Maybe soon.

We’ll see.

----<0>----

Author's note: I've had some extra time the past few days and I've gone over this chapter way too many times. It screamed to be published before I went crazy.

Enjoy

NotExpected 06

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Over the next couple of days, the more I thought about the suggestion of dressing completely as a girl the less objectionable it became. I thought that I might just give it a try. Someday. Maybe soon. We’ll see.

Chapter 6

At the first of March, life at home was both good and bad.

Sandra and I continued becoming closer as friends, but with the widening apparent age difference and my definite leaning towards the female persuasion, she was starting to feel more like an older sister than a wife. We both recognized and discussed at length the change in our relationship. We still avoided talking about what it meant for our marriage. I think that we both still held out hope, slim as it might be, that there was some way to undo my changes.

Sandra, on the other hand, was quite pleased with her physical changes. She was now up to 5' 9" in height and quite willowy. She was definitely outshining your average fashion model by then. It would appear that Grandma Broussard wanted a trophy wife for her favorite grandson. We both had admitted some time ago that we believed that Grandma Broussard was behind the changes. We just never talked about the elephant in the room. That second bolt could only have come from Tom.

A few days after the psychologist suggested a change in my wardrobe, as we were getting ready for work, I was donning my normal ‘uniform’ for the day. This consisted of the most conservative female jeans that I could find and the polo shirt that we all wore at work with our department name embroidered over the left breast. I had to regularly get new shirts as I continued to shrink. I still hadn't made the jump suggested by my psychologist into all female attire.

“Andy,” Sandra said tentatively as she watched my pull my feminine jeans up over my male underwear, “I think that we need to do something more with your wardrobe.”

Due to the physical changes we both needed to go clothes shopping regularly. By this point it was apparent to all who knew or saw me that female clothes were better suited to my changing body than male clothes. We'd pick up new girl's jeans in progressively smaller sizes every couple of weeks and a few boy's shirts as I still had a flat chest and was making a vain attempt at looking male. I also had to get new shoes occasionally as my feet were shrinking. Jeans and boy’s shirts were pretty much the only clothes that I wore during this period. I was still wearing boy's underwear, but with my shrunken male bits I didn't really need them any more. Female jeans aren't made for someone wearing male underwear.

Looking in the mirror, I asked, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It is pretty obvious that you are wearing male underwear under those feminine jeans,” She pointed out.

‘What’s wrong with that?” I asked confused.

“It just looks wrong,” she points out. “You look like a girl trying to be a boy.”

“It’s been that way since we started buying women’s jeans,” I pointed out.

Sandra sighed in sad resignation, “The contrast has gotten more obvious the last couple of weeks. You used to look like a boy wearing girls jeans. I think that you, and I, need to accept the inevitable.”

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously, already knowing the answer.

She walks over to her underwear drawer and pulls out a package of new white cotton hipster panties and hands it to me.

“You need to start looking the part,” she sadly said. “I think that we need to accept that you are now more girl than boy. I bought these for you a couple of days ago. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to present them to you.”

“Just so you know,” I said as I accepted the package, “my psychologist thinks I need to start wearing them too. She also suggested that I get some blouses, bras, and small breast forms. She and my doctor both think that real breasts are in my future. She also suggested girl’s shoes and socks. She encouraged me to start wearing nothing but female clothing. She said that I didn't need to go girly, just some subtle changes to what I'm already wearing. No dresses, skirts or high heels. She thinks that it will help me accept the changes.”

"You wouldn't stand out so much," she sadly observed. "Everyone you meet seems to think that you are a girl anyway."

I can see something change in her eyes. It is as if she has made some decision that she has been putting off. There is almost relief there.

She embraces me with tears in her eyes, “I know that this must be hard for you. It’s hard for me. You know that I love you, don’t you?”

“I do,” I let her know, “girlfriend. And I love you.”

She gives me a squeeze, “Well, girlfriend, maybe we should do a little shopping after work instead of going to the gym.”

So that’s what we did.

And I wore panties to work that day. They actual felt much more comfortable than my male underwear.

----<0>----

When we went shopping that evening no one questioned my girl status. If any of the sales people realized that I was male, they never indicated it. I looked like a late blooming skinny teen girl with only a hint at curves.

We picked up some rather plain underwear, including white cotton panties and bras. After buying a pair of A cup breast forms, Sandra had me don one of my new bras so that we could find some tops that fit. We found a couple of suitable tops that weren't to girly. I made sure that they were in solid, not too feminine, colors. They did not hide the fact that I was wearing a bra. We also bought a pair of rather sensible shoes suitable for work and casual use and socks to go with them. She also bought me a couple of plain cotton nightgowns. I wore the shoes and one of the tops, with the requisite bra and forms, as we left the store. For the first time, there was not a stitch of male clothing on me.

Sandra had become something of a girly girl and loved to dress for maximum effect. While we were at the store that evening, we also looked through the dresses for her. As we went through the options, we discussed the pros and cons of each like two longtime girlfriends. I learned a lot more than a guy needs to know about dresses, but as an emerging girl it was something that I would probably want to know sooner than later. No one batted an eye when I accompanied Sandra into the dressing rooms as she tried on several dresses.

She ended up selecting a rather sexy dress that was barely suitable for the office. It wasn’t too short or two low, but it hugged her figure and looked ravishing on her. She looked upscale and sexy in a tasteful way at the same time. She was definitely going to be a distraction in the office if she ever gets brave enough to wear it to work. She also picked up a nice evening dress. She purchased appropriate shoes for both outfits, the heels of which were a bit higher than she would have worn six months ago.

As we were walking through the mall with our purchases, we passed an upscale lingerie store.

“You know what those new dresses need?” I asked Sandra with an evil grin.

“What?” she asked confused.

“They just scream for some lingerie to match,” I say as I incline my head to the lingerie store. The male part of me, what was left of it, could only imagine what a girl would be wearing under dresses like the ones we purchased for her. I knew that she didn’t have a lot to choose from at home. I also knew that I could enter the store as if I belonged there.

She blushed as I dragged her into the store.

We spent over half an hour in the store and ended up getting some lingerie worthy of the dresses.

She insisted that I get into the swing of things, so I walked out with a conservative, yet sexy, satin bra and panty set… in black. Sandra bought me a relatively conservative pink babydoll negligee with matching panty. I don't think that the negligee will see the outside of my drawer anytime soon.

“It will help you get into the role,” she insisted.

As we continued on our way out of the mall, I noticed that Sandra's updated figure and fashion was getting noticed. She acted as if she wasn’t aware of the appraising looks but I am pretty sure that she did. Women stared daggers at her and the men just drooled. She seemed to reveal in the attention. The looks seemed to raise her confidence and made her more self assured. I am pretty sure that she intentionally did the catwalk strut through the mall to tease all the leering males. She was flirting. The husband in me frowned and wanted her out of view knowing what all those males were thinking.

That night, as I lay waiting for sleep to overtake me, wearing one of my new cotton nightgowns, while laying next to a softly snoring Sandra, I shed a silent tear as I knew that I had now crossed a boundary. It was clear that both Sandra and I had given up the fight. We had accepted the inevitable. That meant that our marriage was doomed.

But at least I still had my best friend.

The next morning, I had my best friend coach me in the skill of shaving my legs and armpits.

-----<0>-----

As we moved further into March, I noticed that Sandra was obviously very conflicted. I was pretty sure that it had to do with the implications of my changes on our marriage and Grandma’s prophecy that implied that there’d be a new man in her life. I had no doubt that the new man would be Tom. I didn’t bring it up in our conversations and she kept the topic at arm’s length, but I was getting the impression that Sandra knew that our marriage was effectively over and that her attraction to Tom was growing. I knew that it was tearing her up inside. The guilt and conflict were obvious in her eyes and expressions. It was a heavy burden to carry. Unfortunately, I knew that she needed to be the one to broach the subject, so I just waited for her to say something.

At the beginning of March, my male bits were pretty much gone. I was a eunuch. Only a small nub of a penis remained and that had moved further down to where a clitoris is found on a woman. My balls had long since disappeared, leaving empty sacks behind. My new panties fit perfectly and I was fascinated by my new flat crotch. I still had a boyish figure, but my hips had started to fill out a little while I was continuing to lose overall body mass.

It was at the end of February that I could no longer stand to pee. It had been a challenge for the prior month but now it was an impossibility. It seemed like another part of my maleness had disappeared and I was in a funk for a couple of days. The silver lining to this problem, however, was that I can now use both hands to read while sitting on the throne. There is nothing needing directing anymore, I could just sit and release. It seemed to be a small consolation. This development was probably one of the main contributing reasons that both my psychologist and Sandra encouraged me to embrace my femininity by dressing as a girl.

About the only things missing in my outward physical transformation were a fully girlish figure, breasts and a vagina. The breast forms addressed one of those deficiencies. I suspected that those changes weren’t far away. My chest was beginning to itch a bit. As we neared the six month anniversary of our visit to Grandma Broussard, no one identified me as a boy. I also looked to be about 14 or 15 years old. Undoubtedly, I am the prophesied teen girl.

I should point out, that neither Sandra nor I had mentioned Grandma Broussard's magic to anyone other than Tom. And we didn't give him the details. That includes the doctors, our friends, coworkers, family, etc. They knew nothing about the magic. They all knew that I am morphing but they were all working from the idea that the changes are spontaneously occurring. We decided to keep it that way as no one wants a media circus. Also, the highly educated professionals would likely dismiss the idea of magic anyway. No one would believe us if we attributed the changes to magic. It was easier, and more believable, if we acted confused about a curve ball thrown at me by nature. The doctors had run every test that they can imagine, but no one had found a cause for the problem. They were still searching. The change was happening so slowly that it appeared to a natural process. So far we had been able to limit my direct exposure to the medical community. I normally only interfaced with the family doctor and psychologist. They had been consulting many other professionals, but they were taking the lead in trying to understand what was happening and why.

The concept of morphing gender is not unknown in nature. One expert pointed out that Clown fish are all born male. The most dominant males turn into females (a process known as sequential hermaphroditism). Funny that Disney did not bring that up in Finding Nemo. I'm not sure that I was a dominate male, but the process seemed to be the same for me with the addition of age regression.

In the meeting with my psychologist after I first started dressing as a girl, she asked me a question that had been on everyone's mind, including mine.

"Andy," she started, "Why do you think that you're adjusting so well to these changes?"

I had to sit back for a few minutes to formulate a reply. I had been thinking about this very question for some time.

"I'm not sure that I am," I responded thoughtfully. "I haven't let anyone see me crying when I get depressed about the changes."

"Curious," she responds, "I haven't seen any signs of depression."

I just shrugged. "It's there, from time to time. Less now than at first."

"Actually," I continue after thinking for a few more minutes. "I do have a couple of theories.

"First, I've never sweated things I can't change. I have always just found ways to make the most of situations outside my control. What good does it do to bang your head against a rock? You might find yourself in a situation beyond your control that you don't like, but there is always a silver lining somewhere and you can always find a way to adjust to it. I think the phrase is making lemonade out of lemons.

"I've always been impressed by a quote from Victor Frankl in Man's Search For Ultimate Meaning,  He said, in relation to his horrific experiences during World War II, 'The last of the human freedoms: to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way. And there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision, a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom; which determined whether or not you become the plaything to circumstance...'

"I am choosing to make the decision to be as happy as I can be in these circumstances.  The choice to be a victim or not is up to me. I don't want to be a victim.

"Take the infertility issue, for example. At first I was as anxious to be a parent as Sandra was. However, when it became apparent that parenthood wasn't in my future, I was ready to let it go and move on. I chose not to become miserable over something that can't be fixed. Not so with Sandra. She is needy for a baby and won't let it go. Her compulsion was causing friction in our relationship as she became progressively less happy. She wasn't happy that I gave up so soon. I tried to be supportive, but she didn't really think that I was. I tried to help her to find a silver lining in what fate has dealt us but she couldn't stop banging her head against the rock long enough to consider other options. She was getting frustrated with me when I wasn't as adamant about having a baby as she was. We were not being at all successful at making lemonade, but I was trying to. She refused to let go of the lemons. She was becoming a victim of her circumstances. Whether or not she wants to admit it, I can now see that her inability to let go was starting to eat at our marriage.

"As far as my changes go, no one could figure where this was going at first so all sorts of things were tried. There are lots of medical professionals out there who are still trying to figure out what is happening to me and why. None of the test results make sense.

"Once we saw that I was slowly morphing into a girl and there wasn't anyway to stop it, the only real solution was to quit fighting it. You suggested it last time we met. That's why I'm dressed as a girl today.

"Maybe I give up too soon, on occasion, but I have found that it is easier to go around an unsolvable problem than to beat my head against it.

"In this case, the damage is done, so what else can I do? I need to move forward in a positive way or I will become miserable. Nothing good could come from that."

"What is your other theory?" she asked with interest.

"The other theory is a version of the boiled frog scenario. How do you boil a frog? If you drop him straight into hot water he will hop out. If you put him a pot of cold water he will swim around and not notice it as you slowly turn up the heat. He has time to adjust to the temperature and doesn't notice the danger until it is too late.

"In my case the changes have been slow and subtle from day to day. I've had time to adjust. While I don't think that I could have hopped out of the pot at anytime, the slow change has probably helped me a lot. I think that if I had just woken up female one morning I would have really freaked out.

"I think that I panicked when the first hormone treatments didn't work, but at the same time, I started to see some very positive changes in my relationship with Sandra. I think that if we had continued on the path that we were on that bad things were likely to happen to our marriage. I decided that I'd rather be Sandra's girlfriend than be an unhappy ex husband."

"Now, I love Sandra in a whole new way. We have lost the married love, but that would likely have gone anyway. At least our marriage has not gone down in the flames of anger and unhappiness. What I have in its place is a deep bond that brings us both happiness. That is the silver lining."

"Most of my patients are pretty adamant about being the gender that they are most comfortable with," she points out. "I make my living helping people who have a compelling desire to be the gender that they weren't born to. They are very unhappy until things are put as right as modern medicine can make them. Even then, it is often not enough. Most of my patients would give anything to go through what you are going through. You don't seem to be too attached to being male and neither do you seem to long to be female."

"I'm not convinced that being a boy or being a girl is all that important." I told her with a shrug. "Both genders have their ups and downs. It is obviously important to many people, but not so much to me. I am just happy to be alive. There are things that I am already missing about being male and thirty two years old. But I am starting to see opportunity in restarting my life as a teenager, even if it is as a girl. There are a lot of things that I will do differently this time around when, and if, my age quits regressing. I will have the hindsight of experience this time around. It could be interesting."

"I think that your adjustment might be more related to your attitude of going around difficult problems," she observed.

"Might be," I admitted. "All the female hormones coursing through my body might also have something to do with it."

She nodded in agreement. She had something more to consider in her scholarly paper.

The question that she didn't know to ask was whether or not the magic had anything to do with my mental adjustments. Tom was pretty adamant that Grandma's magic only messes with the physical. I wondered. I figured that I would ask her about it, sometime around mid-June.

----<0>----

People were now treating me like the girl that I presented as. That included our families. Everyone had pretty much gotten used to the idea that I would soon be a girl and it wasn't a big deal anymore. I got a lot of sympathy from family, friends, and co-workers. We also heard a large number of off the wall speculations about why this was happening and what to do about it. It was, in its own way, pretty amusing. My younger sister thought it was hysterical when she found out that I was wearing panties and a bra. She had decided that I needed her assistance in learning how to be a girl. I avoided her as much as possible. Fortunately she, her husband, and toddler lived far enough away that frequent visits were inconvenient.

As Sandra and I both had known for some time, my transformation meant that there had to be another man in Sandra's near future to fulfill the prophecy. The subject was eventually broached after we had both danced around the growing elephant for weeks. By the time we finally talked about a new man for Sandra, the elephant had pretty much filled the whole room and would not be ignored. We each had very mixed feelings about this topic. Sandra felt more than a little guilty though we both knew that it wasn’t our fault. She apologized frequently for going to see Grandma Broussard saying that everything would have been fine if she had just left well enough alone.

I was not so sure that things would be so fine if we had stayed home instead of going to Louisiana.

I was not particularly excited about that idea of Sandra finding a new love interest, but we agreed that it would very likely happen. I knew that she wouldn't have to look far for a new man as the requisite new love interest had found her. I knew that Tom was going to benefit from my changes. Sandra admitted that marrying Tom was the likely outcome.

After discussing the situation at length one evening, she told me that she would prefer that things went back to the way they were. I would always be her first choice for a husband, but she admitted that Tom was not a bad second choice if she couldn’t have me. She said  that she would have to get to know him better before she would accept a marriage proposal. After some intense questioning from me, she grudgingly admitted that she was starting to fall for him, but she was quick to point out that she was still hoping that we could repair the damage inflicted on us by Grandma Broussard. Unfortunately I could see in her eyes that she really didn’t believe that we could go back. We both knew that we had effectively given up the fight to save our marriage. What I could see in her eyes was extreme turmoil.

Sandra and I had confronted Tom at one point about that spare bolt used in the ceremony. He admitted that, yes, he had sent a bolt to Grandma when she requested it. He didn't know why she had asked for it. He thought that it was strange that it had to be by his bed for a fortnight. We didn't tell him how his bolt mated with Sandra's nut. What we did tell him was that his bolt was used in the ceremony and that the results were interesting. When pressed to explain, we told him that he would find out the details when we talked with Grandma in June. He already knew that Sandra had been promised children and he knew that I was becoming less likely to give them to her. He looked cautiously optimistic at Sandra. She glowered at him but there didn't seem to be any real conviction to her glower. I could see that the thought of Tom as her new partner was not without appeal for her. However, strange as it might seem, the thought of her with Tom was not totally repulsive to me either. I would like my best friend to find the fullness of happiness I could no longer give her and that she deserved and needed. It occurred to me, during our conversation, that I actually liked Tom. He was good to, and for, Sandra. Things had definitely changed between us.

Sandra seemed to be getting more and more conflicted about our marriage relationship. I would catch her crying at odd times. She told me that she felt as if she was being unfaithful to our marriage vows now that we were no longer lovers. I could tell that she was having trouble resolving her feelings about being married to a teen girl and her growing love for Tom. I think that we both lost touch with the man I had once been.

----<0>----

One night the week after I started dressing fulltime as a girl, after having worked an unusually late evening to support a special campus event, I came home to find her curled up on the couch wearing a very conservative flannel nightgown and crying. She looked thoroughly miserable. She must have been crying for a while as she had gone through two boxes of tissues and her eyes were very puffy and red. When I came through the door, she burst into tears with renewed vigor.

I sat down and took her in my arms. A difficult thing to do when you’re half a foot shorter than you wife.

“I'm so sorry, Andy," she sobbed into my shoulder. "This is all my fault! What are we going to do!?”

"It is not your fault," I assured her, “It's Grandma Broussard's fault."

"But if I had just given up as you wanted me to," she wailed, "we never would have met her and we wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Don't worry about it, girlfriend," I sighed. "Things are good. Just different. Do you want to tell me why all the tears?"

"I've let you down," she bawled. "I feel so guilty. I don't want to hurt you. You are my best friend in the world."

"It will be alright," I tried to reassure her without any real conviction.

“I'm not sure about that anymore,” she cried even harder. “Please, just hold me.”

I didn’t get anything more out of her that night, but as I changed for bed that night, I noticed that her new evening dress was draped over a chair with the matching pumps standing near by. They had obviously been worn.

----<0>----

With all the changes in our relationship and Sandra’s growing internal conflict what happened on the morning of the six month anniversary of our visit to Grandma Broussard was unsettling but not a total surprise.

I was getting dressed for work in my now normal feminine clothes, having already taken a shower, when Sandra’s phone beeped with an incoming text message. She was in the shower getting ready for work so I casually looked at the screen to see if it was anything important. I thought maybe I'd have to tell her to shake a leg. When I read the message, I froze.

The incoming text read: "Looking forward to lunch, sweetheart. We have reservations at Sullivan's for noon. Wear something nice but sexy. Please. We will find a way through this, I promise. Love you forever. XOXO"

The message was from Tom and it was more intimate that I would have expected.

Scrolling through her messages, I saw that this wasn’t the first such text. Her replies were equally as intimate.

Sandra hadn't said anything to me about seeing Tom regularly again outside the office.

 

NotExpected 07

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn The incoming text read: "Looking forward to lunch, sweetheart. We have reservations at Sullivan's for noon. Wear something nice but sexy. Please. We will find a way through this, I promise. Love you forever. XOXO" The message was from Tom and it was more intimate that I would have expected. Scrolling through her messages, I saw that this wasn’t the first such text. Her replies were equally as intimate. Sandra hadn't said anything to me about seeing Tom regularly again outside the office.

Chapter 7

After reading the text from Tom, I quietly left early for work before Sandra got out of the bathroom. I left Sandra a note saying that something came up at work and they called me in early.

I had a heavy heart and needed to think about what to do. I knew that this day was coming, but I had hoped that Sandra would have been more open about it. After all, we had recently talked about this possibility.

As it turned out, the day was going to go downhill from there. It was not to be a good day.

I got to work about half an hour earlier than usual. My supervisor was already there.

"Hey Andy," My boss called to me as I walked past his office on the way to my desk. "Can I see you in my office for a few minutes?"

"Sure," I replied waving my day pack at him, "I'll be there after I drop this at my desk."

After dropping my bag off at my work station, I wandered over the boss's office.

"What's up Boss Man?" I ask in a friendly greeting.

The look on his face told me that this was not going to be a good conversation. He motioned me to sit in a chair.

"Look Andy," he said uncomfortably, getting right to the point. "There is no easy way to say this. You are one of our best techs, but I have to let you go."

"What's up with that?" I asked, feeling as if the world just got jerked out from under me.

"You know that the budget is tight and it is no secret that we're going to have to let someone go," He told me. "Your usefulness is not what it used to be, what with your changes and all. I can't send you out on service calls any more because you look like a 14 year old kid and I get lots of complaints about that."

"But my work is good," I asked, "Isn't it?"

"The best," he agreed, "but that doesn't seem to matter. No one seems to want a kid working on their computers. The higher ups have been getting complaints as well. They want to let you go on the grounds that you are no longer suited to the job."

I sighed in resignation. I had had a feeling that this day was coming.

“And, I gather,” I pointed out, “there are more than a few people who are uncomfortable with my transition.”

He squirmed a little in response to that fact, “I can’t comment on that. Look, Andy, we all know that it’s not your fault. We seen you almost everyday and have witnessed the changes. We know that it’s not what you wanted and that it’s been hard on you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

"Off the record, you know that you don't belong here anyway." He tried to soften the blow. "You have much more potential than is needed for this job. You should have completed the computer engineering program years ago. Your talents are wasted here. I bet that if you had gone after that degree you'd have graduated at the top of the class and would now be making waves in some research facility and with a ridiculously high salary. Maybe this will kick you in the right direction. Someone or something should have done that long ago. You can do much better in life than what this job offers. That's my personal opinion.”

Getting back to the business at hand, he continued, "I've been authorized to offer you four weeks severance pay if you sign this agreement not to sue us for letting you go," He told me as he slid some paperwork across his desk. "And I am just about done writing you a glowing letter of recommendation for another job. I had hoped to have it done before you got here."

"I'll sign the agreement if you get them to extend the offer to three months with health coverage and they make sure that this is characterized as a layoff and not a firing," I told him, "otherwise I will take it up with legal counsel and see if I can get a settlement for wrongful termination. That will cost you a lot more."

He sighed. "I'm in your corner kid. I like you. Let me see what I can do. Those lazy stiffs in HR should be into their offices soon."

In the end the human resources people and administration rolled over quickly and gave me the health coverage to go along with three month's salary. I had the feeling that they expected a counter offer and were ready for it. Maybe I should have asked for more. I had my office cleaned out and a signed agreement in hand by the time I needed to leave for a 10:30 AM appointment with my doctor.

As I cleaned out my desk, several of my coworkers stopped by to express their condolences.

"This is harsh, dude... ah, dudette?" One guy said, obviously not sure how to address my changed physical condition. "I hope that you find something soon. I know that a couple of companies in town are looking for people. You should do fine."

"It's because you are one of us now," one young woman whispered to me. "Women always get the short end of the stick. We figured that one of us would be let go, but not you. You used to be one of them."

"Maybe that's why," the other woman with her quietly added. "Maybe he got let go because he switched sides. You should sue them."

It was good to know that most of my coworkers appreciated me being part of the team. My layoff seemed to take pressure off everyone else. While some were sorry to see my go, they each were glad that it wasn't them.

----<0>----

The news from the Doctor just added to the day’s despair.

"Well, Andy," the Doctor started out as she breezed into the exam room. "Your latest blood tests show that your chromosomes are all now XX. Welcome to the world of women. You are now female."

"Almost," I sighed as I sat on the exam table. "I'm still missing a few parts."

"Let's take a look at that," she said as she started her weekly exam.

"Ah, finally," she said as she checked out my chest. "You are exhibiting the first signs of breast development. Check it out."

She told me what to look for as I felt my chest.

After completing the exam, she said, "As you know, you are still missing a vaginal opening, breasts and feminine skeletal system. Your latest ultrasound would indicate that your testicles have almost ascended to where ovaries would be in a girl. You are missing the rest of the internal plumbing of a woman but there is a hint of change in the images.

"If I were a betting woman, I would wager that these other characteristics will sort themselves out with time. The trend towards total transition seems to be continuing.

"Regardless of the missing elements, you have the appearance of an awkward 14 year old mostly girl.

"I talked with your psychologist yesterday to compare notes. She thinks that you are handling this well."

"I am trying," I said while trying to fight back tears.

"What's wrong, hon?" the Doctor asked with concern.

"It's been a hard morning," I told her.

She patted me on the knee. "You are a tough cookie. Hang in there."

A psychologist she isn't.

"Why don't you get dressed while I finish up a letter certifying that you are now a genetic female. You should be able to use the letter to start changing your records."

She bustled out. While I got dressed, I thought about how I knew that this day was coming but, given the day's events, the definitive news of my new gender felt like another nail in my coffin.

I was back out on the street by 11:30 AM with a letter from the doctor testifying to the fact that I am now genetically female through processes unknown and should be considered female from now on in all legal arenas. She also gave me a referral to a gynecologist who she had been consulting with about my case and who was anxious to meet me.

It was going to be hard to make lemonade out the events of this day. Getting hit with a hat trick of depressing news in one morning is tough to take. As I thought about the situation, it was clear to me that it was about time that I get proactive and take back some control.

As I left the doctor’s office, I decided to crash Sandra's little lunch tryst, but first I needed to do something that I had not hitherto done.

I stopped in an upscale women's clothing store and bought a nice dress appropriate for a 14 year old girl (think mid thigh length), black patterned tights, and a pair of stylish ankle boots with a moderate heel. I bought a matching bikini panty and lacy bra to add a little sexiness to the feel. On a whim I bought a necklace with matching clip on earrings. I decided that I needed to more fully embrace my new gender to do what I intended at the restaurant. I couldn’t do much with my relatively short hair, but I looked good anyway after some help from one of the sales girls who basically messed it up and sprayed it with hairspray. The sales lady called me cute as she helped me prepare myself for my big unveiling, but then again, she was happy with the commission so she'd probably call a cow cute. She talked me into purchasing some mascara and lipstick, which she also applied for me when I told her that I was in a hurry and didn't have any experience with makeup. I also picked up a small purse to carry the makeup, my cell phone, and my wallet in. She did throw in a small bottle of perfume as part of the deal. I didn't have time for a full makeover.

I was as ready as I could be given the short notice.

Arriving at Sullivan's at 12:45 PM, I told the Maitre d' who I was looking for and that I had an urgent message for them. He knew exactly who I was looking for. Apparently they were regulars. He took me to their secluded booth. Sandra's back was to me as I approached. Tom briefly looked up from the obviously intense conversation that he was having with Sandra but did not recognize me wearing the dress. In that brief moment he actually gave me an appreciative look which bolstered my confidence. I did notice that Tom seemed more handsome than when I'd first met him. He was looking fitter. He was also wearing nicer clothes. He was no longer looking like the geeky engineer that I had met six months ago. I actually found him to be very handsome.

I waved off the Maitre d' and approached the table where the very loving couple were holding hands across the table with nearly empty plates pushed aside.

"Hello BFF," I said when I arrived behind Sandra at the booth. "You look delectable in that dress." She had complied with his text request and had worn something especially nice that day. It was the sexy dress that we had purchased on our shopping trip.

Sandra spun about in shock, letting go of Tom's hands.

"What are you doing here?" She almost shrieked. I was pleased that I had pulled off a perfect surprise attack. It would keep her off balance for a few minutes. Long enough for me to say what I had to say.

"I just thought I'd drop in and bring you two up to speed on my latest developments." I said, maybe a little too coldly as I slid into the booth next to Sandra, smoothing the skirt of my dress under me and remembering to keep my knees together.

I picked up Sandra's fork and ate the last bite of broiled salmon that she had left on her plate. It was sufficient for lunch as my appetite was still AWOL.

"That's really good," I commented.

"Who are you?" asked a somewhat protective Tom who still didn't get the message.

"I believe that we've met before," I told him, extending my hand for a shake, "My name is Andy and I am married to this beautiful woman."

They both just stared at me, obviously gathering their thoughts.

"I will avoid the obvious questions and save you the pain of coming up with explanations," I began. "I just want to share with you a few recent developments in my life that neither of you know about. They might just help with your dilemma."

They still had nothing to say, but there were guilty looks on both faces.

"To start with," I continued, "I was laid off today. Something about needing to reduce expenses. I suspect that some of the higher ups also think that I am a poor fit for the job, given my apparent age and gender confusion. The good news is that I managed to negotiate a great severance package."

Sandra finally found her voice again. "No! They can't do that!"

"They did," I informed her, "and I signed an agreement to not sue them in exchange for the aforementioned severance package. But the fun doesn't stop there."

"What else?" asked Tom warily.

"I had another doctor's appointment this morning," I went on, "and it seems that I am now the proud possessor of a full set of XX chromosomes. I am a girl! I am still missing some of the parts that a normal girl has, but the chromosomes define me as female. Do I want to be a girl? Not really, but somehow it doesn't really bother me. I suspect that is part of the magic."

"But Grandma says that her magic can only affect the physical, not mental or emotional." Tom reminded us.

I just shrugged.

I was starting to think that the physical can have a big impact on the mental and emotional.

Turning to Sandra, I continued "The fact that I am now female has rendered me unable to perform my duties as the husband that you married. We both have known for sometime that I can no longer continue to be your husband once I become a girl. It is obvious that you have already started developing a new romantic relationship with Tom. I do not wish to stand in the way of your happiness so I think it best if we consider a dissolutionment at the earliest opportunity. We can discuss this further at home tonight. Once that takes place, then you and Tom can be more open about your relationship. I have to say that I am very disappointed that my BFF wouldn't have been a bit more open with me about her new love. We have even talked about this eventuality. New love is, after all, quite exciting and is usually shared with close girlfriends."

Turning to Tom, I said "I am a true believer in your grandmother's magic. Whether or not you willingly consented to her devious plan, you are now obviously about to take my place as Sandra's husband. I think that you've had designs on my wife ever since you met her but I can’t prove that."

He started to protest, but I just raised my hand in a stop gesture and continued, "I don't know how far you two have taken your relationship, or for how long, but that will no longer be my problem after the dissolutionment. Tom, you might as well ask me for her hand in marriage as her father gave it to me when we were married and I still have a right to it for a little while yet. I will give you my blessing. In fact, I encourage you to propose marriage to her after I leave, if you haven't already. In fact, I will take this," I grabbed their lunch bill, "and pay this in way of an engagement gift for my BFF. Don't forget to get her an engagement ring before you go back to the office. There is a great jeweler's right next door."

Turning back to Sandra, I asked "May I please have your wedding ring? You will be getting a new one soon, I think, and this one would only get in the way of your new engagement ring. I'll give you back mine when you get home. It quit fitting a couple of months ago so I don't wear it any more." She held out her hand tentatively and I slipped the ring off her finger. On a whim, I slipped it onto my ring finger. It fit.

"Oh, and I really liked helping you pick out that dress last week," I observed as I stood up, smoothing down my dress, in preparation for leaving, "I knew that you wanted to look sexy, I just wasn't bright enough to figure out that it was for Tom."

Turning to Tom, I decided to embarrass Sandra, "You should talk her into taking that dress off. The bustier, stockings, and g-string that we bought to go with it are quite naughty. I'd bet a week's salary that she is currently wearing them. They would really get your motor running, if it isn't already. A girl has to dress sexily from the skin out if she really wants to really feel sexy."

I quickly turned away and walked out before they could see my watering eyes. I left stunned silence behind me, paying their rather expensive lunch bill on my way out of the restaurant.

I felt an unexpected wave of relief wash over me as I reached the sidewalk outside the restaurant. Hopefully we had exorcised that particular elephant forever. I just hoped that Sandra could now move forward without so much guilt. I also felt a new sense of freedom.

Sighing, I knew what I needed to do next.

I dug into my wallet and extracted a note with the name and address of a lawyer that my psychologist had recommended to me. She was experienced at handling the legal affairs of transitioning transsexuals. I hoped that she handled divorces as well.

I called the number on the note and was told that, due to a last minute cancelation, that she could see me in about half an hour.

I went straight to the lawyer's office from the restaurant. She said that she could handle the dissolution as well as the other legal issues. By the time I reached home, I had a draft set of dissolution papers, and a petition to legally recognize me as a genetic female and to change my name to Andrea Marie. I had decided to go by Andi. It should make things easier interacting with people that knew me. She also told me how to go about getting an updated birth certificate, drivers license, Social Security card, and other official documents. The lawyer was disappointed that I’d signed an agreement with the University. She would’ve really liked to have sued them for me. She let me know that it would take a couple of months to make the dissolution final. Things must be done in order and the wheels of justice turn slowly. We would start on the dissolution then go about the name and gender changes. All this seemed to fall in place as if it was supposed to be. At least something went right that day. Like all the other professionals that I've worked with, she was really intrigued by my case but restrained herself to sticking to the pertinent facts. The formal letter from my doctor certifying my spontaneous gender change was a first for her. I know that she was bursting with questions. A few months later, as we concluded the various pieces of legal work, she did finally break down and ask me what it was like and what not.

After talking with the lawyer, I just needed to break the news to my family and friends. But that would wait until after my upcoming discussion with Sandra that evening.

The third trimester of my obvious nine month transition had started out with a bang, so to speak.

The middle third of the crystal was still blue, but it was surrounded by pink much like a wagon train circled by attacking Indians in an old Western movie. Somehow, I didn't think that the Cavalry would arrive in time to save the blue.

 

NotExpected 08

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn After talking with the lawyer, I just needed to break the news to my family and friends. But that would wait until after my upcoming discussion with Sandra that evening. The third trimester of my obvious nine month transition had started out with a bang, so to speak. The middle third of the crystal was still blue, but it was surrounded by pink much like a wagon trail circled by attacking Indians in an old Western movie. Somehow, I didn't think that the Cavalry would arrive in time to save the blue.

Chapter 8

Sandra was already home when I got there in the late afternoon. Apparently she'd been too upset to work that afternoon, so she had canceled her appointments and came home to have the heavy talk that we both anticipated.

She'd also been crying a fair amount judging from the empty box of tissues by her side. It was only one box, unlike the two box event a week or so ago. She looked as if she'd already wiped all her runny mascara away, but there were still some traces left. She'd obviously been crying for some time. It nearly broke my heart to see her in such misery, but I knew that we had to go through this to find balance again.

I noticed that she had changed into her favorite comfort clothes: yoga pants and a turtleneck sweater. The yoga pants fit her like a glove. She is the definition of beauty even when miserable and trying to dress down. With her changes, I think that she'd look great in a potato sack.

She was sitting on the couch and I took a seat on the love seat opposite her just as her cell phone went off.

She promptly turned the phone off without even checking to see who was calling.

"Hey there girlfriend." She opened the conversation tentatively through her tears. She was gauging my feelings with her opening statement. "You might want to keep your knees together when wearing a short dress."

It was going to take time before it would become natural for me to sit modestly while wearing a skirt.

"Hey to you too," I responded gently. "Thanks for the reminder. This is my first time in a dress."

I couldn't find it in myself to be angry at her. We both knew that this day was going to come. I was, however, disappointed that she wasn't sharing this part of her life with me since we were now best friends. Best girlfriends.

"I thought we were BFFs," I addressed the new elephant in the room with a gentle accusation and a wry smile, trying to put her at ease. "I understand that BFFs share ALL their hopes and dreams with each other."

She looked very guilty.

"I suppose that I can demonstrate how that works," I relented when she didn’t respond. "First off, I don't know why, but I can't find it in my heart to be devastated about you and Tom. After all, we both have known that our life as husband and wife effectively ended a few months ago. We both know that the other bolt from the ceremony came from Tom and that you are likely to end up marrying him to have your babies. We’ve even talked about this. I am, strangely, okay with Tom being the father of your children. I am not only okay with it, I am actually very happy that he is going to be the father of your children. I think that he will make a good husband and a great father. I find our new love as best girlfriends to be sufficiently satisfying to overcome whatever feeling of loss that I feel for the end of our marriage. We both knew that our marriage needed to end but I guess that neither one of us wanted to be the one to initiate it.

"It is that new love that I have for you which feels betrayed. I am hurt that you didn't share with me your developing relationship with Tom."

Sandra looked appropriately chastised at this point.

"I need to know something," I continued. "Did you and Tom plan this before we went to Louisiana? Was this a convenient way to remove a hindrance from your path to a new relationship? We could have just divorced, you know? I would have hated it, but it is the normal way of things. And I would still be a man."

Tears were continuing to stream down Sandra’s face. She looked absolutely miserable. I couldn't stand it any more so I moved over to the couch and pulled her into a hug. She started sobbing into my shoulder and clung to me for several long minutes. My new dress was getting soaked with her tears and it hurt me to feel her misery. I knew then that there was no easy way to end a marriage, even if you both know that it is the right thing to do.

"I am SO sorry," she sobbed into my dress. "I never wanted things to turn out this way."

I waited as she gathered her thoughts. She slowly pulled back to look me in the eye.

"No, we did not plan this. When we went to Louisiana, I truly hoped that you and I would become parents together." She continued, "Yes, there's been chemistry between Tom and I since we first met, but that doesn’t mean that I wasn’t committed to our marriage. I suspect that everyone finds more than one person attractive over the years. I am pretty sure that you found little Amy Hunter more than a little attractive. Maybe you still do."

She had me there. Amy was a coworker that I was pretty attracted to at one point. There was some moderately strong chemistry between us, but she could never have replaced Sandra. Up until this morning we were still coworkers but we had both moved away from our mutual attraction.

Sandra relaxed a little and continued, "Tom isn't the first guy that I have found to be cute and to be attracted to. Because of my love for you, I was able to resist my attraction to Tom just as successfully as I had with the others. That is until recently. I finally quit resisting when I gave you your first panties. Handing you that package caused me to finally accept, in my heart, that there was no going back and that we couldn’t go on as husband and wife. For me, it was the symbolic end our of our marriage.

"While you are, and always will be, my first love that love has morphed into something just as wonderful. It is no longer the love of a married couple but the love of best girlfriends, which can be almost as intense as married love.

"When Tom and I started having regular lunches together soon after we first met it was all business. I could tell that he was attracted to me and I found that flattering since I also found him attractive. He has since told me that he fell head over heels in love with me the first time we met but he was resigned to loving me from afar. Looking back now, I think that I fell for him at the same time, but I just assumed that it was another one of those fleeting attractions and brushed it off as best I could. I have to admit now that I wasn't very successful at putting him aside. You get to know a lot about someone when you work closely with them. As we got to know each other our friendship grew deeper. I convinced myself that Tom was just one of those harmless attractions, even though I could tell that he was thoroughly smitten with me. I tried to stop seeing him, but we really did need to work together and we became good friends and business confidants, but nothing more than that. As I have repeatedly told you, I was still devoted to our marriage.

"You already know the story, that after one of our arguments at home about discontinuing fertility treatments, I expressed my frustration to him as a friend. I was so mad at you that day that I wasn't seeing straight. You already know this, but when he said that maybe he could help us, I wanted to hear what he had in mind. I wanted a baby so badly. I still do. He told me that he might know a treatment that would bring you and I children and he wanted to know if I was interested. I told him that everything else had failed but I still had hope that we'd find a way. He assured me that this method was different than all the others. Then he told me about his grandmother and all the miracles that he had seen her perform. I was intrigued and told him that I doubted that I could get you to cooperate since you had decided to quit pursuing having children. I told him to go ahead anyway and find out if she could help us. A few days later he told me that Grandma had consented to help us. I called and talked with her for a long time and she assured me that she had the means to help us. She made the strange request about the nut and bolt without saying why she needed them. While she didn’t share with me the specifics of the ceremony, the whole thing sounded as far fetched as some of our other attempts. After talking with her, I almost dismissed the idea of going to see her. But as I thought about it, I figured it couldn't do any harm so what the heck. We needed a quick vacation after all the stress we’d been under so I thought what we might as well give it a try. That's when I approached you.

"I was surprised that you agreed to go. I really meant it, at the time, when I agreed that this would be our last attempt. I did not want to lose you over the pregnancy obsession, and I realized that I had put our marriage in jeopardy by my compelling need for a baby. Looking back, I have to admit that I don't think that I could have kept my promise. I still feel an overwhelming need to get pregnant and I'm afraid of what would have happened to our marriage if I couldn't get pregnant with you. I am so sorry, Andy, I just can't help it," she sobbed again.

I pulled her into another hug without saying a thing. She settled down after a couple of minutes and I let her continue her story.

"When we met with Tom to talk about his grandmother before we committed to seeing her, I never sensed that he was trying to break up our marriage.

"Just so you know, I still haven’t told him about the mated bolt and nut, so he doesn’t know about the prophesized marriage. He only actively pursued our romantic relationship after I recently told him that I was open to a relationship with him since my marriage to you was effectively over and we’d given up on reversing your changes.

"When we left for Louisiana, I was truly ready to suppress my urges to become pregnant and move forward with you and without children if this treatment failed. I was so much in love with you. I was sure that I wanted you more than I wanted children. While I was good friends with Tom, I had no intention of ever leaving you for him. For Tom’s part, he has assured me that he never wanted to break our marriage and I believe him. He saw that we were basically happy. Tom feels badly about how this has all come about, particularly for you. He knows that none of this would have happened without Grandma's interference.

"When we were at Grandma Broussard's I got an uneasy feeling when she produced that second bolt and laid it next to our barely mated nut and bolt. After the ceremony was over, I was pretty sure that that bolt represented Tom. As this was all hocus pocus, as you put it, I was determined to kill my feelings for Tom and give him a piece of my mind when we got back. I really didn't expect the ceremony to amount to anything.

"While you went fishing, I had a nice visit with Grandma and settled down somewhat. She told me a lot more about her family and Tom in particular. Apparently, Tom is a favored grandson and the family was very disappointed that he still hadn't married by the time he turned thirty. I think that his family was resigned to the idea that he would always be a bachelor. He has always been a geek who is more devoted to his work than to relationships. Grandma told me that many of the local girls had tried their hand with him over the years, but to no avail. Tom had told her about his attraction to me shortly after meeting me for the first time. He had also told her that he honored my marriage vows. Being a favored grandson, Grandma said that she was inclined to help him anyway she could. She confided in me that she felt that Tom wouldn't stay single much longer. I was happy to hear that thinking that if he were to marry that he would be over his feelings for me. I did have a brief uneasy feeling that the ceremony we had just participated in was somehow tied to her prediction. I didn't let it worry me too much since the ceremony appeared to be as much hocus pocus as many of our other attempts."

"You never told me some of this." I pointed out. "You’ve known all along that you’d end up with Tom?"

"No," she defended, "Grandma never said that I would end up marrying her grandson. She just said that he wouldn't be single much longer. I didn't realize what she meant until much later. You were the only love of my life at that time and I couldn't see how we could stay so close, as she predicted, if we weren't continuing to be husband and wife. If we were to remain married, then it logically followed that you would be the father of my three children. I honestly wanted to believe that your bolt had transformed and we were mated and the other bolt divided and became the young girl and three children. I never once considered that you would morph into the young girl and that I would find love with Tom. So, no, I did not know from the beginning that I would end up with Tom. I would have begged her to undo the magic if I had known where this was headed."

"That first month after we got back from Louisiana was like heaven. I loved you more than ever and just knew that we would be lovers forever. I tried to eliminate my attraction to Tom by distancing myself from him. I even introduced him to a couple of single girls in the office thinking that one of them might fulfill Grandma's prediction for her grandson. He went out with one of them a few times, but nothing came of it. I was pretty standoffish with Tom for a couple of months. I actually tried to hand his account off to someone else, but he talked to my boss and threatened to take his rather substantial account somewhere else if I wasn't managing it. My expertise in the health industry is a perfect match for his investment and business strategy and he didn’t want to lose that connection. He also admitted to me recently that he couldn't bear the thought of not seeing me regularly. We actually compliment each other very well, professionally speaking. I was told that I would need to manage his account if I wanted to keep my job. I made sure that our contact was purely professional. We met at the office and I always tried to have someone else present when I met with him."

"You didn’t mention this either," I pointed out.

She paused for a minute as tears started to stream down her cheeks again.

"No, I didn’t. I didn't lie to you about it either. I have never lied to you. I just haven't told you everything. I am so sorry about that. I thought that everything was under control and I didn’t want to worry you.

"Then the changes started to happen. Your ability to perform sexually eventually disappeared. Our love morphed into that of close female friends instead of that of husband and wife.

"One morning last month I woke up and saw a girl in our bed and it hit home that what we had once was gone. I felt a great sense of loss. That's when I bought those panties for you, knowing that our marriage was over. I still felt a strong need to get pregnant and knew that you'd never be able to do the job. I needed a man in my life. One who would love me and our children. Looking at you, a young girl, sleeping in our marriage bed it was clear to me that you were no longer that man. The depth of what Grandma Broussard had done hit me hard and renewed my anger towards Tom. Unfortunately, I was, by then, a believer in the magic and knew where things were going. I felt powerless to stop what was happening to you and the feelings growing in my heart for Tom. I found that I didn’t really want to stop things. The guilt of that realization just about killed me. I found Tom constantly in my dreams, day and night, and I couldn't forget him. I finally admitted to myself that I loved him, and probably had, to some degree, since we first met. The feelings I have for Tom reminded me of when you and I first met. You were always there in my mind and that excited me and brought joy to my heart. This time, however, the realization that I was in love again brought guilt and anguish instead of excitement and anticipation.

"It was all very confusing. I felt dirty and unfaithful. It has been awful. I still feel very guilty about it, but eventually I realized it's not my fault or yours. Your changes caused us to lose our marriage and opened a way for my new love while still being close to you. It was as if the male you had been had died and I was essentially a widow with a close girlfriend. I did talk with a grief counselor who told me that people who lose someone they really love almost always feel as if they are being untrue to their lost loved one when they discover new love. Many don’t make the transition and push the new love away and wallow in their misery. She helped me to realize that you and I can never go back to what we had. Andy has effectively died and isn’t coming back. I tried to find a way back to what we had. We tried. Tom tried. You know that we tried contacting Grandma, but she won't talk to us right now. Tom is not happy with her and she isn't talking to him either. She has said, through other family, that she would talk to us after nine months had expired. We still have three months to go.

"So I did the easy thing, and gave in," She gave another sob at that. "The same day that I gave you your first panties, I resolved to move forward on my feelings for Tom. I called him that morning and asked to meet him for lunch. At lunch I told him that I still wasn't happy with his grandmother's interference with my marriage but that our marriage was effectively over. I told him that I will always love my Andy, but that he is gone now and isn’t coming back. He’s been replaced by a wonderful young woman who is my best friend in the world. I told Tom that I found myself attracted to him and that, if you and I could no longer be a married couple that I would be willing to explore a relationship with him. He needed to understand that nothing serious would happen between him and I until you and I legally resolved our marriage. As I mentioned, I still haven’t told him that he and I were mated in Grandma’s ceremony. I don’t want him thinking that a marriage between us is a given.

"My marriage to you means a lot to me and I am not about to be untrue to my marriage vows while they are in effect. Well, that’s not quite true. I suppose that I have been emotionally untrue lately as I’ve started to develop my relationship with Tom without your expressed consent. I have felt guilty about seeing him without talking to you, I have been struggling to think of some way to break the news without damaging my new relationship with you. I know that we’ve talked about this possibility, but I just couldn’t see how you could not be hurt by my new love for Tom.

"You should have given me some credit," I quietly told her. "Yes it hurts, but not as much as I would have thought. I love where we have come as friends. You’ve hurt me more as a BFF than as a husband. The husband in me disappeared a while ago. From what you've said, you've kept a lot from me recently."

"I’m sorry, Andy," she teared up again. "I really didn’t want to hurt you."

"I know, girlfriend," I reassured her.

"I can see now," she sadly reflected, "where keeping my secrets has not kept you from pain. I promise to be more open in the future and trust the strength of the bond between us. I never want to lose you, girlfriend."

"And I don't want to lose you either," I assured her. "I will get over it. I know that your intentions were good."

"Anyway," Sandra continued the story, "our regular lunches started up again. We've been meeting for lunch dates almost every work day since then. Last week, when you had to work late one evening, we went out for our first romantic dinner date and took a walk in the city park. He was so handsome and I loved hanging on his arm. We were strolling along the river when he turned to me, took me in his arms, and gently kissed me for the first time." She got a dreamy look on her face.

"And you kissed him back," I said more as a statement than a question.

The guilty look returned to her face and she sheepishly replied, "I did. I was caught up in the moment and had pushed the guilt to the back of my mind."

"And you enjoyed it," I observed.

She hung her head and tears started again. "I did. I didn't want it to stop. I'm so sorry, Andy."

"That's okay, girlfriend," I consoled her. "What happened next?"

"He ruined everything in the most beautiful way," she sighed. "He took my hand, got down on one knee, and told me that he loved me. Then he held out a ring and asked me to marry him. It was so romantic, but all I could do was cry. I wanted to accept his proposal with every fiber of my being but all I could do was cry as the guilt of what we were doing crashed in on me. I love you, Andy, and I just can't hurt my best girlfriend and husband. I didn’t know what to do but I knew that I had to be true to you until we could talk about how to gracefully end our marriage. I told him that I loved him too, but that I couldn't accept his marriage proposal until you and I resolved our situation. You found me crying on the couch when you came home that night.

"Tom’s proposal put the pressure on me to legally end what was already gone. I still haven’t figured out a graceful way to end our marriage. I guess that I am a coward and have been afraid to broach the subject with you. I knew that we were no longer lovers but I didn't know how you’d feel about me loving Tom while still being married to you. I know we've talked of this, but the conversations were clinical. I didn’t really know how you’d feel about ending our marriage. When you arrived at the restaurant today, we were discussing ways to break the news to you without upsetting you. I guess that you took care of the problem for us."

"Until today," I told her, "when the Doctor declared me to be female, I wasn’t completely ready to admit defeat. I knew that we were no longer lovers. The day you gave me those panties and we went shopping for my new wardrobe I knew that our marriage was doomed but there was still a shred of hope left in my heart. I watched your torment grow and knew that we needed to resolve this soon or you'd go crazy, but, like you, I didn’t know how to break the news. I knew that your future was coming into focus. I felt that you needed to be the first to make a move to end the marriage so that you could move forward with your obvious new love. I don’t know where I am heading so there is not a compelling need on my part to end what we have. When I saw the text from Tom this morning, I realized that it was past time to end our marriage. I wanted to set you free to relieve your pain. The news from the Doctor only reinforced the notion that this was the time. I knew that I had to bring things to a head if you wouldn't."

"I was wondering how you found us," She sighed.

"That text really bothered me at first. When I read it I felt betrayed. Not as a husband but as a best friend. I knew then, for sure, that you were seeing him with marriage on your mind and you hadn't told me, your supposed best friend, about it. It explained all the torment that you've had lately. I could see your pain and my heart ached for you. You didn't have to hide your love for Tom from me. It is hard to hide the glow of new love and that glow has been increasing, even through your anguish, for a few weeks now.

"Looking in the mirror each morning and watching Andi emerge, I have come to realize that I can no longer give you the happiness that we once had. I am standing in your way of finding that kind of happiness again. I found myself strangely pleased that my BFF was finding love but felt betrayed in that she wouldn't share her new found happiness with me."

"Andi?" She asked. She caught the nuance of the name change.

"I am having my name changed to Andrea Marie," I told her.

"That's a pretty name," She gives me a wane smile. The tears were drying up. I think that we both were coming off our emotional high, realizing that there are no hard feelings between us now that all the cards are on the table.

"I remember that evening last week," I reflected with a sigh, "when I came home and saw your tears and red puffy eyes. It was hard to miss the empty boxes of tissues. I also noticed your new evening dress hung over the chair in our room. You were distressed but didn't want to talk about what had happened. I figured that I'd just give you time and that you'd confide in me when you were ready. That's what best girlfriends do, or so I'm told."

"I am SO sorry," she said again sheepishly.

"Anyway," I continued, "getting let go at work today and hearing about my new chromosomes were the last two straws. I could no longer watch you suffer. I knew what I had to do. And I knew what I needed to do it. I decided to embrace my new girlhood and confront the situation head on.

"So I went shopping, bought this new outfit..."

"You look wonderful in it, by the way," She interrupted me. "It’s a great first dress. I love the hose and ankle boots too. I can see, however, that I need to help you learn more about makeup and how to sit like a lady in a dress."

"Thanks," I continue, "I think. The sales lady at the store said that it looked nice on me and helped me with the makeup. It was a rush job. I put it on your credit card, by the way.

"Anyway, I needed to feel as far away from being your husband as possible and this seemed to be the best way to do it. I knew that it was going to be hard and I needed the reminder of my new gender status to make it a little easier for me to get through. I also knew where you both were, so I went to Sullivan's and confronted you. It wasn't meant to be an angry confrontation. I hope that it didn't come across that way, though I am very put out at Tom for his and his grandmother's role in all this. I knew that I needed set you free and let you two get on with your lives. It was clear to me, as I approached your booth, you both have a strong romantic love for each other. I hate to admit it, but you seem to be a well matched couple. Ending our marriage is a little easier knowing that you are marrying a man who adores you and that we will continue to be best friends, that is if you still want to be."

Sandra eagerly nodded to confirm her desire to remain friends.

"Anyway, after I left the restaurant, I tracked down a lawyer who, amazingly, had time to help me this afternoon. It's like the stars aligned since it usually takes weeks to get into see her. She helped put together the dissolution paperwork, a petition for legal recognition of my new gender and a petition for a name change. She also told me how to change my name and gender on all official documents.

"So," I finally asked, "Did he propose again?"

Holding up her left hand, she showed me an engagement ring that made the one I had given her look like it came from the dime store.

"I see that he took my advice," I noted dryly. "That's quite a rock. Did he get to see your lingerie?"

She turned a bright red as she exclaimed, "No! He didn't, he hasn't, and he won’t until we’re married. I am still a married woman and adultery is not something that I am ready to add to my list of sins no matter how much I want a baby. He’s had the ring in his pocket since his first proposal, waiting for me to say yes."

"Now that we need to dissolve our marriage, however," She continued sheepishly, "he wants us to get married as soon as legally possible. And I guess that I do too."

"Do you really love him?" I asked earnestly.

"Yes," she admitted with a grimace, "I do. As I said, I just didn’t admit it to myself until recently because I loved you, as my husband, too. But our love has changed and opened the door for my love for Tom. It’s all been so confusing."

"Is he a good kisser?" I asked trying to lighten the mood.

"I don’t really know," She blushed. "Until today, he has only kissed me that one time on our date, just before he first proposed. That was a nice kiss, but I could tell that he doesn't have any real experience with kissing. I’ve been in such turmoil since then he hasn't tried again until today. He gave me a quick kiss after he slipped the ring on my finger after lunch, but I was so upset that the romance just wasn’t there. I'm afraid that I didn't kiss him back like he would have liked. I will need to do more research on the topic before I can render an informed opinion."

"Well," I said with resignation, "We are still married, but as I’m okay with the engagement, I suppose I’m okay with some kissing. Give him a big one for me."

I reach out and gave her a big hug while trying to stifle a tear or two of my own. "I love you girlfriend and wish you great happiness."

"I love you too," She started crying again. "Andi, can I ask a favor?"

"Sure, girlfriend," I responded.

"Can I have my wedding ring back?" She asked hopefully.

"Why?" I asked confused. "We won't be married. You need to wear Tom's"

"We are still married," She pointed out. "I would like people to know that I'm still a married woman."

"Won't your wedding ring get in the way of your new engagement ring?" I was confused. "I think that Tom would rather have you wearing his ring."

"A widow friend of mine," she explained, "put her wedding ring on a gold chain and made a necklace out of it to keep her old love near to her heart. She never wants to forget what she once had. I'd like to do the same. I don't want to forget what a great love we had as husband and wife. I can wear the necklace while still displaying my new commitment to Tom."

"Don't you think that Tom will object?" I asked.

"I don't think so," she replied. "Once we are no longer married, I won't wear it every day and he knows that I cherish the memory of my marriage to you."

I smiled as I slipped her ring off my ring finger and returned it to her.

We hugged again and I whispered "Thanks" in her ear.

When she came home the next night, she was wearing her new wedding ring necklace. She brought home an extra gold chain and we made a necklace for me with my wedding band on it. Sandra she wore that necklace, and her engagement ring, every day for the remainder of our legal marriage. I, similarly, wore my new necklace daily.

Breaking the hug, I reached down by my side and pick up the pile of papers that I had brought with me. "If you want that wedding, we have some work to do. The lawyer says that it could take up to two months for the dissolution to become final. That is if we can agree on terms and get this paperwork filed."

We were up late that evening working through the many details required to legally end our almost ten years of marriage. Fortunately, we were able to work out the details without much disagreement. She was feeling quite generous as a way to make up to me for her betrayal of my trust. It also occurred to me that assets would be the least of her worries after she married the apparently very wealthy Tom. We were reasonably well off but didn't have a lot and she wouldn't lose much, relatively speaking, by just walking away from it all. We had spent most of our money on useless fertility treatments and there wasn’t a lot in the bank. I was going to be the big loser on the monetary front as I would no longer have access to our combined incomes. I had just lost mine and she'd be taking her much larger income with her. I would need to find a new job soon. It was a melancholy evening for both of us.

"You know that you are my best friend?" she reminded me as we wrapped up the dissolution negotiation. "Thanks for making this hard time easier."

"That's what best friends do," I observed, "You've been doing that for me for a long time now. I need to be thanking you. I can never repay you for the support that you have been these last few months."

"Oh, but you have," she smiled. "You paid me back at lunch, and again this evening."

"How did I do that?" I said in confusion.

She warmed me with a smile as she explained, "You lifted the anguish from my heart and the torment from my mind when you set me free. It is the best payment that you could give me under the circumstances. You have also given me your friendship, something that I will always treasure. I know how much this has cost you."

This declaration resulted in another round of hugs and tears. There were a lot of those going around that evening.

Sandra helped me to move out of the master bedroom and into our teen girl room, as we had come to call it. It was, after all, made for me.

Going through the closet and my drawers, all male clothing that we encountered went into trash bags for delivery to a charity shop. After we sorted out everything, I didn’t have much left to move over to my new closet and drawers. Much of my newly acquired female clothing was already too big for me. I was still shrinking.

"It looks as if we need to go shopping again," Sandra observed.

"It better be the charity shops," I sighed, "until I can find another job."

She gave me a hug and replied, "I can help. We agreed that our incomes will be shared until the divorce is final. We’ll make sure that you have an adequate wardrobe before we’re done."

"We better wait until we know what size I will end up as," I pointed out. "We probably won’t find out until June. You will probably be remarried by then."

"Good point," she looked at me sadly.

Continuing to share her income until the end was one of the generous concessions that she offered to make. She insisted that we split what’s left in the accounts the day before the dissolution is final. Over the next couple of months, Sandra did her best to make sure that I had everything I needed. She spent almost her entire income from that period getting me set up for the future. She really didn't take much more than her car, clothes, and accessories when all was said and done.

By the time we had finished working together that evening, I could see that Sandra's torment was pretty much gone. I am pretty sure that there was some residual guilt, but she seemed truly happy for the first time in weeks. Both of us felt that a great burden had been lifted from our lives.

As I moved the last of my things out of the master bedroom, I closed the door behind me. Sandra was calling Tom to let him know the outcome of the evening's discussions.

I set the crystal on my new nightstand where I could keep an eye on the blue’s losing battle, knowing that the Cavalry would never come.

As I contemplated the meaning of the changing crystal, I decided to change my perspective. From then on, I would be watching the pink’s progress towards eventual triumphant victory instead of focusing on the blue's ultimate annihilation. I was going to embrace my new reality, embrace the pink, and find happiness in unexpected opportunity. There had to be opportunity somewhere in this mess and I wanted to find it. There would be no good to be found dwelling on what was lost. I needed to determine what I had gained instead.

Most of all, I just wanted the transition to be over so that I could truly move forward with my life. I sighed as I braced myself for another three months of transition.

That first night in my new room was lonely. It would take some time to get used to being alone in bed again. I was sure that Sandra was having the same problem, but her bed would not be lonely for too much longer.

----<0>----

With the help of my lawyer's office, I filed the dissolution, gender, and name change petitions the next day. There would be no looking back.

 

NotExpected 09

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Most of all, I just wanted the transition to be over so that I could truly move forward with my life. I sighed as I braced myself for another three months of transition. That first night in my new room was lonely. It would take some time to get used to being alone in bed again. I was sure that Sandra was having the same problem, but her bed would not be lonely for too much longer. ----<0>---- With the help of my lawyer's office, I filed the dissolution, gender, and name change petitions the next day. There would be no looking back.

Chapter 9

After taking care of our legal business, I had taken my old clothes to the charity shop. While I was there, I had browsed their selections and had picked up some new-to-me jeans and a couple of blouses in my current size. Sandra and Tom were going out tonight so I decided to skip my gym workout to spend time at my childhood home. I fiddled around in the kitchen and fixed my parents dinner while waiting for them to come home from work.

"Something smells wonderful," My mother called out when she walked in the front door.

"Hello Mom," I called out. "I'm in the kitchen."

"Is that you Andy?" She asked sounding confused as she walked into the kitchen, "you look like a young girl."

I sighed. "Yes, Mom, it’s me."

I hadn't been home for over a month.

"Let me get out of these work clothes," she said. "I'll be back in a jiffy to help. Your father should be home soon. Where's Sandra?"

"She has other plans tonight," I replied.

"It's still progressing, isn't it?" She asked when she returned to the kitchen, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, Mom," I replied, "and I have a question."

"What's that dear?" she asked.

"What would you have named me if I'd been born a girl?" I inquired.

"I knew it was coming to this," she sighed as she started setting the dinner table for three. "We would have named you Susan, but your sister got that name. Have you picked a new name?"

"As you can see, you have another daughter," I told her. "The Doctor told me yesterday that my chromosomes are all now XX so I am giving into the inevitable. All my old male clothing went to the charity store today. There is no going back. As you know, I’ve been living as a girl for several weeks now so a new name sounded appropriate. I chose Andrea Marie."

"You poor dear," Mom gave me a quick hug as she tried to comfort me. "That’s a pretty name. Being female won't be all bad. Most of us women rather enjoy the experience. I think that you might just like it."

"I hope that you are right. I also have the stature of a thirteen-year-old," I pointed out.

"That is a problem," she admitted. "You look like one of my eighth graders."

Mom was the current Principal at the middle school that I attended as a child. She had been a gym teacher when I was a student there. She knew a lot about tweens and younger teenagers.

"A couple of other things happened yesterday," I began the real reason for the visit.

"Why do I get the feeling that they were not all good," she asked suspiciously. My Father chose that moment to walked in the door.

"Because they're not," I replied. "I will fill you and Dad in over dinner."

Fifteen minutes later we sat down to eat and I began to give them the lowdown on getting let go at work, the visit with my doctor, my little shopping trip, my confrontation with Sandra and Tom, the visit to the lawyer, and my heart-to-heart conversation with Sandra when I got home. They asked a lot of questions along the way. It was a very long conversation. We were finishing bowls of ice cream when I got to the end of my narrative.

"That was quite a day," Mom understated when I finished relating the events. "I’d love to see your new outfit. Do you want to move home?"

I hadn't really thought about that option. "Why would I do that?"

"Well," my father said, "We haven't really been in a divorce situation, but it seems that the couples separate when they decide to split the sheets."

"I'll have to think about that," I pondered the question. "Sandra and I are still best friends. We are just not lovers anymore. I did move into our spare bedroom last night. We are roommates now."

"Actually," Mom observed, "The last few times I've been around the two of you, I thought you had more of a mother/daughter relationship going, given the great differences in your apparent ages."

"Its funny that you should say that." I smiled to myself, "Others have noticed the same thing."

"So you're intent on living as a girl for the rest of your life?" Dad enquired.

"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice," I responded, "does it?"

"Maybe it’s none of my business," Mom observed, "but your conversation and actions, while more feminine than they were, seem out of alignment with your current body. It is as if you are a mature man in a young girl's body.”

"That's true," Dad contributed.

"That’s probably a pretty accurate assessment,” I admitted.

"You may physically be a girl now,” she continues, "but I don’t think that you really know how to BE a girl. You've missed a lifetime of training in the feminine arts. As I have watched you this evening, I have been trying to think of how we can help you overcome that little problem. We need to find a way to help you truly be a part of a woman’s world. If you truly are female from now on, I don't think that you'll ever be completely happy again until you learn how to be a girl. I have a few ideas on how to help you that would probably be easier to implement if you were to move home again."

My psychologist had also referred to this problem, but we hadn't really dealt with it yet outside of subtle changes to my wardrobe. She wanted to ease me into the role.

"Do I want to know what you have in mind?", I cautiously enquire.

Dad was clearly not comfortable with where this discussion was about to go.

"This conversation is getting above my pay grade," He interrupted with a joke. "I'll leave you ladies to it and I will clean the kitchen before finishing a project in the garage. Thanks for a great dinner, Andi."

With that, he got up, gave me a pat on the head like he used to do with my little sister when she was younger, and wandered off taking a pile of dirty dishes with him.

"Men," my Mother sighed. "They get uncomfortable when we start talking about women's things."

"So," I prompted her to get back on track, "do I want to know what you have in mind?"

"Not yet, dear." She replies in reassuring tone, "I need to work on a few things first to see if any of them are actually feasible."

My cell phone chose to ring just then. It was my mother-in-law.

As my mother-in-law had become close friends with my mother after Sandra and I became engaged, I put the call on speaker phone.

Sandra had apparently called and talked to her mother before Tom came to pick her up for their date.

"Sandra called and dropped quite a bomb just now," she stated. "Her father and I are still reeling from it. How are you doing Andy?"

"Remarkably fine," I told her with tongue firmly in cheek. "Besides losing my job, my gender, and my wife yesterday things couldn't be better."

"I hate to break it you, Andi," my mother interjected, "but I think that you lost your gender a while ago, and your marriage went with it. You are just now putting it all together. You've also lost your age."

"Your mother is right," my mother-in-law commented. "I have noticed it too. We have missed our favorite son-in-law the last couple of months. He's been replaced by a very nice young girl. Regardless, I am put out my daughter. She's moved on to a new man a bit too quickly, in my opinion. I can't help but to think that she's dumping you for a better offer at a time when you need her support the most. Imagine getting engaged to another man while still married to you. She must really want those babies to leave you like this."

"It's not that way. Tom's good for her," I told the women. "They didn't pursue their romantic relationship until it was apparent that the marriage was over. I gave them my blessing yesterday when we decided to dissolve our marriage.

"Give him a chance," I told my mother-in-law. "Tom is a good guy and he is good for Sandra. I think that you will like him."

"The jury is out on that one," she grumbled. "We'll sure miss you, Andy. We wish that things were different."

My mother-in-law and I have always been good friends. I had gotten lucky in the mother-in-law lottery. She told us that Sandra had tried to explain that this was not a case of simply leaving me for another man, though that is how it is turning out. I tried, several times, to assure her that I was okay with how things were developing as I was no longer the man that her daughter had married. It took her, and my mother, a while to finally realize that, since I will never be a man again, her daughter was entitled to find a new partner and that I was okay with that.

"As your mother pointed out," my mother-in-law stated, "you lost your gender a while ago. From what I've seen, however, you don't really know how to be a girl. You need some training."

I sighed, "Mom mentioned that."

"What do you say," my mother proposed, "that we get the women of our families together to discuss the issue. Andi could use the support. I think that we should include the teenagers as they are a bit closer to current trends among young women."

"Great idea," my mother-in-law agreed. At that point I was sidelined as these two strong willed women made arrangements for a family feminine summit. I had a feeling that I was going to lose control of part of my life.

As word spread about our dissolution, it wasn't long before each of the women in our immediate families called me to offer their condolences and assistance. I got the sense that I have a bunch of new mothers.

I also got the sense that Sandra would have to work hard to convince them that she's not dumping me. As a whole, they did not seem to be happy with her. I did my best to reassure each of them that things were not as they seemed.

The men, on the other hand, were totally silent on the subject of my change and had little to say about my pending divorce. Even after talking with my father and older brother, they were both pretty unhappy with Sandra for dumping me so quickly for another man. Again, I came to Sandra's defense. They didn't want to talk at all about my transformation. As everyone thought this was a spontaneous transformation, I think that the men were uncomfortable that it might just happen to them if they got too close to me.

-----<0>-----

Sandra and I decided that it did no good to try to hide my changes and the imminent demise of our marital status. We knew too many people. While we didn't advertise the changes, we were up front about them with people who asked or noticed. We just characterized my new age and gender as a spontaneous change and didn't make a big deal out of it. We tried to convince everyone that this was not something that either of us had wanted or sought. Those close to me tended to be supportive if not understanding. Particularly the women in my life. There were also quite a few people who just didn't know how to deal with the transformation and kept their distance. We couldn't give them any reason for the spontaneous change and that made some people nervous, leading to all sorts of strange speculation about what had actually caused my changes. While we're sure that it all started with Grandma Broussard, Sandra and I decided not to mention the ceremony and its impact. No one would believe us.

When people saw us together they understood the reasons behind our change in our marital status. We looked more like mother and daughter than husband and wife. What they had problem with was Sandra's quick engagement. Most people automatically assumed that Sandra had been unfaithful and was dumping me for a better offer before our dissolution became final. Dealing with that issue actually became more of a problem than dealing with my changes. I felt sorry for Sandra and stood by her whenever I could.

----<0>----

My weekly visits to the doctor and the psychologist continued.

At my next appointment, my psychologist was impressed with how I had handled all the devastating news on that fateful day and how I had resolved my problems with Sandra.

"How do you feel about it now?" she asked.

"Much better," I smiled at her, "Sandra's torment was hard for me to watch. It was hurting me too. Since we've put everything on the table, the tension has disappeared. We now understand how deep our bond is and will work hard to protect it. No more guilty secrets."

"How do you feel about it from the perspective of the injured husband?" she pressed.

"What husband?" I replied. "There has been no husband in our marriage for months. He died a quiet death.

"Sandra put it well," I told her, "We now have a widow being supported by her best friend. The husband in me has died and has been reborn as a supportive girlfriend. The supportive girlfriend is very happy for her best girlfriend who has found new love."

She made some notes before continuing, "How do you feel about the death of the husband?"

"I often miss him," I replied after a moment's thought. "I miss being an adult. It is frustrating being treated as a kid again. I do miss the marriage relationship that I had, but I think that we are deluding ourselves if we only remember the good things. If we are truthful, the marriage was strained before all this happened. Maybe what has happened to me was the best way to end something that might have died a slow death anyway. So, how do I feel about the death of the husband? I am sorry to see him go, but it appears to have been for the best."

"So," she pressed again, "you are not bitter to have been dropped by your wife for a better offer?"

The woman was starting to annoy me.

"Sandra did not drop me for a better offer," I corrected her. "The 'better offer' was not made until after her husband effectively died. She did not pursue or accept the better offer until after her marriage had effectively ended. How can I be bitter about that? It would be like a dead man being bitter when his widow rediscovered love with another man after he had passed. It doesn't make sense. I am happy for her."

She looked at me for a few moments before returning to writing in her notes.

"Let's talk about your transition," She changed the subject. "How do you think that is going?"

"I wish that it was over," I shrugged. "I am tired of being in between genders. As far as presenting as a girl goes, I am comfortable in my girl's clothing. I know that I pass convincingly as a female now."

"Do you think that dressing as a girl is helping you to feel more like a girl?" she asked.

"What does a girl feel like?" I asked, "I just feel like me. I am being accepted as a girl everywhere now and it feels natural. I blend in better now that I am wearing girls clothes."

"You told me that you bought and wore a dress with all the accessories to confront you wife and her new man," she commented. "Did that make you feel any different? Did it change the way you approached the couple?"

After thinking for a few seconds, I replied, "I guess it did, to some extent. Dressing up made a statement to Tom and Sandra that the marriage was truly over. The dress felt awkward since I had never worn one before. Sandra had to remind me how to sit without exposing myself. I gather that, in some ways, I looked like a guy wearing a dress for the first time, even though I do have a mostly female body. My mannerisms haven't caught up with my body yet."

"So," she reflected back, "are you saying that you haven't developed the mannerisms of a girl?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I think that's right. I don't have any real experience being female so it is hard to act like one."

"We should explore this," she commented as she wrote more in her notes.

"Would you be willing to wear your new outfit to our next visit?" She asked. "I think that we could learn a lot if you did."

"I can do that," I told her.

"You might want to consider adding a few skirts and dresses to your wardrobe," she advised. "Maybe some practice wearing them will help you adjust quicker to your new reality."

"I will take that under consideration," I promised her, thinking that the water in the pot just got turned up a notch. This frog was well on his way to being cooked.

Sandra and I went shopping for the suggested additions to my wardrobe. We picked up a mid length skirt and another dress. I would sometimes wear them at home, but it took some time before I was comfortable enough to wear them with ease.

I did wear my first dress to my next appointment.

----<0>----

The first Sunday in April our mothers called a meeting of all the females in the family over sixteen. The purpose of the gathering was to see what could, or should, be done to help me adapt to my new age and gender situation. It also gave the women a chance to really connect with the new me. Sandra tried talking me into wearing one of my two dresses or my skirt but I went to the meeting wearing jeans and a nice top instead. I felt more comfortable that way.

The assembled women knew that Sandra and I were dissolving our marriage because we were both female now, not because we wanted to leave each other. At that meeting Sandra and I did our best to convince the non-believers of the family that this is not something that we sought, but something that just was. We had not consciously done anything to turn me into a girl. We also tried to make it clear that Sandra and I would always be BFFs and love each other as sisters. We did our best to convince them that Sandra wasn't just dumping me for a better offer. It took a while before everyone seemed to be convinced. Once our relationship was clear, the focus shifted to exploring ways to help me fully adapt to my changes.

My mother started the discussion by pointing out that even in that evening's discussion, my behavioral patterns had a strong tinge of mature male that did not resonate with the young girl that I had become. I was much too mature and my thought patterns had an obvious male influence. While I had been becoming more feminine in my behaviors in recent months I still had a ways to go to be completely believable as a young girl. Much in my mannerisms were incongruous with my physical presentation. The other women agreed. They also agreed that I needed to become even more feminine if I were to operate in the world of women as a peer.

I was also very deficient in my training in the womanly arts. I didn’t know much about female clothing styles, hygiene, grooming, social interactions, etc.

"You don’t know much that a young teen girl would have learned growing up as a little girl,” my sister pointed out.

"Yes,” one of Sandra’s sisters added, "Do you have any idea how to style your hair? Not that you have much to work with, but every girl has played with her hair since she was a toddler. A teen can do amazing things with her hair without even thinking about it.”

"Have you ever painted your nails?” another woman asked before I could answer the prior question. "Every teen girl that I know has been doing that since she could hold a nail brush.”

"What about how to wear a dress?” someone else asked. "I don't think that any of us have ever seen you in a dress or skirt. Do you even own a dress? You probably don’t know how to protect your modesty while wearing a short skirt, or how cool it feels to twirl in the right kind of dress.”

"These are things that a girl your age would know,” my mother pointed out.

"Yes,” agreed my mother-in-law, "You should know these things if you are going to be a woman.”

"But I didn't ask to be a woman," I finally got a word in edgewise.

"That's moot," one of Sandra's sisters responded. "According to medical science you are a genetic girl. Do you know a way to change back?"

There were nods around the room supporting her statement.

"Medical science has been less successful at changing women into men than the other way around," another one pointed out. "From what I hear the results are less than satisfactory."

Not really sure that I wanted to know, I asked, "I’ve already purged my wardrobe of anything masculine. So what do you recommend that I do next?"

That question opened the floodgates.

There were almost as many suggestions as there were women in the room. There were, however, some commonalities. The primary commonality was that I needed to let go of any attempts to be male and start building a reservoir of female experiences. Of course that meant that I needed to get rid of all male clothing and start dressing as a girl, which I had already done. Unfortunately, the general opinion was that my wardrobe should be as girly as possible until I had eradicated any remnants of masculinity from my system.

I also needed to start accumulating experiences related to the other things that contribute to the making of the psyche of teen girl. As they compared their experiences from their girlhoods it became apparent that dress up games, playing with their mother's clothes, makeup, and accessories were a large part of the learning of young girls. Then there were the sappy Disney movies, teen chick flicks, playing with hair, and hanging with girlfriends. Some of the girls admitted to devouring teen girl magazines every month for tips on hair, makeup, clothes, boys, etc.

It is said that our character is the sum total of our experiences. I was sorely lacking in the experiences that make up the character of a teen girl. A lot of time was spent discussing the activities that I needed to do to start accumulating those experiences. A curriculum for a form of girl boot camp slowly emerged.

They felt that an overcorrection might speed up the process. I could always back off when I was finally completely presenting the behavioral patterns of a girl. Since I'd already had a couple of months to work up to the idea of being female, the suggestions of jumping into the role were not a big surprise nor repulsive.

I wasn’t so sure, however, that I liked the idea of jumping as deeply into the role as was being suggested. I wondered what my psychologist would think about these suggestions. While she was now encouraging me to start experimenting with skirts and dresses, she seemed to be easing me into the role instead of throwing me into the deep end, as these women suggested.

Amongst other things, it was agreed by the assembled women, that I should stick to dresses and skirts for the foreseeable future. I also needed to start experimenting with hair styling, fashion, and makeup. The assembled women felt that total immersion in girl culture would be the best way for me to make the transition and learn what I need to know to really BE a girl. I needed to start accumulating the experiences that every girl has. Kind of like language immersion when you want to learn a new language. It became apparent to me that all this would cost me more than a few dollars. I pointed out that funds were tight, but Sandra had already offered to bankroll the basics. As did my mother.

There was some disagreement about makeup. The younger women were adamant that I needed to spend a lot of time learning the fine art of makeup. After my first experience with the stuff, I tended to agree that I needed a lot more education in that arena if I was going to do it right. The older women were firm in the opinion that, if my age continued to regress, that I would be too young for more than the basics. I could learn makeup skills along with other girls in my new peer group once I started to grow up again.

I would end up spending every moment of free time studying one or more of these girl skills over the next few months. It was hard to cram twelve years of girl training into a few months.

The next commonality in the suggestions was that I needed to start spending some time with my new peer group. The idea of connecting with a peer group prompted a round of speculation as to how young I would be when the transformation was complete. Based on Grandma’s prophecy, which no one but Sandra and I knew about, I felt that the youngest I could be was thirteen but I was already there. Others pointed out that if age regression continued until my body completed the last remaining changes, that even younger was possible. We just didn’t know. As so few changes remained to be completed, it was decided that we’d assume twelve-years-old for now and adjust as needed. That age prediction turned out to be spot on when I finished my skeletal changes in mid-May.

Connecting with a peer group was felt to be important since girls band together as friends to learn as they experiment with their femininity in their early teen years. It was decided to wait until the changes were complete before pursuing this idea much further. There were a number of ideas floated on how to accomplish my peer socialization. Several of the women there had daughters who were just entering their teen years and offered to connect me with them. That idea didn't really sound right to me and a little awkward. How would it go down when I was introduced as their thirty-two year old uncle who was now a teen girl? I’m not sure that I would integrate well with young girls who knew who I had been. I was thinking that I needed to find girl friends who didn't know the old me.

My mother, bless her soul, came with the strangest idea of all as a solution to my non-contact with girls. As a middle school teacher and administrator for her whole career, she has worked with budding teenagers her whole life.

Mom's suggestion was that I enroll in middle school for a year. The grade would depend on what my final apparent age would be. This would totally immerse me in girl culture and give me a crash course in becoming one. No one had to know what or who I once was. She insisted that middle school is a time of transition where young girls start to figure out who they really are, just like I apparently needed to do. It is a time of confusion and experimentation. It is a time when no one really knows how things work. My awkwardness would not be out of place and could be easily explained as me being a tomboy. I pointed out that I already had a college degree. She said that I would be going to get educated in the feminine arts, not to get a new diploma.

She got a devilish grin on her face. "I'd love to see a male navigate the treacherous waters of middle school girl culture where, at any given time, a large portion of the girls are trying to deal with PMS."

My dear mother spent about half an hour convincing the other women that this was a good thing. In the end she won over just about everyone but me. I didn’t like the idea of going back to middle school. The first time through was bad enough. I didn't think that the academics would be a problem. My memories of middle school revolved around being a social outcast. I had been a geek and didn't fit into the social fabric of middle school all that well. I had few friends and the few friends that I did have banded together more for self preservation than out of true friendship. We were just a group of misfits trying to survive. It was interesting, however, that all of our little band of misfits were generally more successful in our chosen careers twenty years later and probably better adjusted than most of the bullies and mean girls that had ruled the middle school social structure.

As a way to squash the idea, I pointed out that, as I was getting the condo in the dissolution, I needed to make a living to pay the mortgage on the condo and for other living expenses. Middle school would get in the way of that.

Several of the ladies promptly jumped in and offered their homes to the "visiting cousin/niece/granddaughter" that would be my cover. They pointed out that I could sell or rent out the condo. Sandra mentioned that, without her income, I would probably not be able to make the mortgage payments even if I did find a decent job.

I should note that Sandra had offered to pay me alimony, which would have helped, but I had turned that down. I wanted to stand on my own two feet and not be a burden to her. I wanted our marriage split to be clean. I wanted us to both walk away unfettered. I should be able to do this on my own. I would have if we had never married. I think that my male pride was showing through during the negotiations.

In the afternoon's conversation, Sandra and my mother both offered to take me in. Those women with young girls in the house were particularly adamant that their homes would be the best place for me to gain my girl education. I think that at least one of them really just wanted me to be a live-in babysitter/nanny.

To appease the crowd, I said that I'd think about it when no further progress was being made in the discussion.

Sandra thought that the whole affair was entertaining. She got a gleam in her eye when we talked about my girl training. She was excited to do her part.

When we got home that night, we talked more about how to connect me with my new peer group. Neither one of us came up with any ideas better than what my mother had proposed.

Six weeks later I was still "thinking about it". During those six weeks, however I was taken clothes shopping on multiple occasions by several of the women along with their age appropriate daughters. The goal was to help me find clothes that a typical young girl would choose.  While my age regression seemed to be slowing, I still had to go shopping more than once to to find smaller clothes. I learned more about feminine undergarments than I ever figured out being married to a woman for a decade. I also learned about the myriad of clothing styles. My drawers and closet were beginning to fill with the colorful adornments of female life even though we tried to keep it to a minimum until we could be sure that my regression had stopped. Many of the clothes that became too big for me would come in handy when, and if, I ever started to grow again.

I also spent a number of afternoons after school let out with some of my teenage relatives getting coached in nail painting, hair styling, and makeup. They were brutal taskmasters and were satisfied with nothing less than perfection.

----<0>---

"That's too loose," one of my taskmasters said in frustration one afternoon. "It will fall apart in no time. Take it apart and try again."

I was trying to braid her younger sister's hair. I had to admit that my attempt looked nothing like what she had demonstrated.

"This is hard," I sighed.

"No it is not," she firmly informed me. "This is the easiest thing you can do short of making pigtails."

I had screwed that up too.

"I will show you one more time," she patiently instructed me, then she made a perfect braid in seconds flat.

"Wait until you try making French braids," she warned me. "Those can be tricky at first."

Oh joy!

----<0>----

Looking in the mirror, I stated the obvious, "I look like a clown."

"Yes you do," one of my high school aged teachers agreed. "The eyeliner needs to have a more consistent width and the mascara is unevenly clumped on your eyelashes. The eye shadow could be a lot more even and symmetrical. The colors don't really match your outfit either."

Her friend handed me a makeup wipe, "Why not clean it off and try again? You will get it. Eventually. You should practice more at home. Remember how long it took for you to learn how to apply lip gloss correctly?"

And I had been told that lip gloss was a no-brainer.

----<0>----

It took awhile for my young instructors to forget that I was their thirty-two year old uncle before I started hearing a lot about the happenings in middle and high school while we worked together on my girl education. I learned who broke up with who, what fashions were in style, who dished who, the crazy dumb stunts that boys used to try impress the girls, who the cutest guys were, what a drama queen the most popular girl was, how cute the track star was, etc. It was like no other world that I had ever encountered.

One of the upsides of shopping with, and being trained by, the women of the family is that they became more comfortable with the new me. Each time I went shopping with someone new, I had to overcome their reservations about my female status. After a few hours of shopping, however, they would relax and I was soon just one of the girls. Getting nearly naked in front of them in a changing room usually generated stares and questions the first time around, but they soon realized that my body was pretty much the same as theirs and everything became normal. It wasn't long before some of the bold ones were changing in front of me while they tried on new outfits. I had been changing in a women's locker room at the gym for some time, so the nearly naked women were not an issue for me.

Sandra started subscriptions to several popular teen girl magazines so that I could read about the concerns and interests of tween girls. In addition to time spent with my personal girl trainers, I spent hours watching YouTube videos on the subjects they were trying to teach me. Who would have thought that being a girl could be so involved? I ended up investing in all manner of the tools, implements, potions, and powders required to perform the tasks that I was learning about.

Following the advice of my various female mentors, I started wearing skirts and dresses almost exclusively in an attempt to get more in touch with my developing feminine side. At first, the new clothes felt very foreign, but with time I came to find that I actually liked it all. The feel of soft skin hugging underwear and the swish of a skirt became desirable. I found that twirling in a dress was kinda cool, as was mentioned in the big family meeting. I wasn't so thrilled about wearing bras as I felt they were constricting, but I was assured that it was better than going without. I noticed the truth of this advice as my own breasts started to fill my A cup bras. When I no longer needed the silicone assistance I was thankful for the support. Sandra had me wearing short dresses and skirts until I learned to sit in a ladylike fashion without giving cheap thrills to any guys that might be around. Without my male equipment in the way, I found that crossing my legs in a feminine fashion was only natural and helped to protect my modesty.

I even had my hair cut into an easy to care for longish curled under bob style. It is amazing what a difference a cute hairstyle makes. The beautician assured me that it would grow out nicely if I wanted long hair.

Sandra took it upon herself to help me with my girl training homework. When Tom wasn't around, we'd spend hours on these activities while she gushed about the latest on the Tom front and the wedding plans. At first it seemed very weird, but I soon started looking forward to these sessions. I was getting even closer to Sandra as a girlfriend, and I liked what these skills did for my looks. I decided that I'd rather be a cute girl than a slob.

Speaking of becoming a slob, Sandra and I had continued our workouts at the gym to avoid that very possibility. After their engagement, Tom joined us most days. He pointed out that he had a gym at his house, but I felt more comfortable at the more public gym that we had joined. I was learning a lot by observing the other women and girls in this setting. When Sandra had first dragged me into the ladies locker room, I had been petrified. Now it was no big deal. The locker room gossip gave me a greater insight into what was important to women. It had never occurred to me how defensive most women feel around men until I started listening to them warn each other about the various predatory males that frequented the gym. It helped me to understand why women's only gyms were becoming so popular.

People at the gym often mistook us for a family, and I guess the roots of one were starting to form. After working out, I would go home or off to do my own thing as the two of them would frequently disappear on dates to do whatever. I didn’t ask.

By the beginning of May, we were still struggling with how to connect me with girls in my new peer group. My work with my subject matter expert instructors helped to a limited extent. Unfortunately no matter how comfortable we became around each other, my mentors still treated me like their thirty-two year old uncle who had decided to become a girl. I was never one of them.

There were, basically, two problems standing in the way of my connecting with a new peer group.

The first being that we still weren’t sure what age group that would be. My doctor assured me that the age regression seemed to have almost stopped at a twelve-year-old stature. She was impressed with the speed at which my A cup breasts had formed and thought that it might be a sign that I would start growing up again. My gynecologist was also optimistic that my transition was well on its way to completion.

The second problem was my insertion into a girl peer group. School was still in session and wouldn’t get out until the week of the wedding, which was fast approaching. It was too late in the year for me to jump into middle school as just another one of the girls. The next term didn’t start again until the end of August. The female family network was still chewing on ideas of how to help me make true new girlfriends but nothing made more sense than being dropped into a school environment.

One of Sandra's nieces, who happened to be one of my hair styling instructors, got talked into inviting me to a Friday night sleepover that she was having for her friends. It did not go well. It seems that the niece in question had, over the past couple of months, been telling her friends of the uncle who was becoming a girl. I was a novelty and was not fully accepted as a girl that night. Some of the girls kept their distance and at least one had chosen to not attend the party because of me. They were unusually reserved while I was there. I could tell that they saw me as a boy in a girl disguise. I stuck it out until the morning, but left before the other girls started getting up. It seems that this wasn't the way to work my way into teen girl culture.

Every once in a while whatever little bit of male that was left in me yelled STOP! I had to take time out for my old favorite past times. I did a little wood working in the garage, skied or hiked some of my favorite trails, read a few action novels, and even played my favorite violent video games. I would have liked to go sailing, but winter in Wisconsin is neither the time or place for that activity. One day, while skiing on the local cross country ski trails by myself, an older guy tried getting a bit too friendly. It felt wrong and creepy. I quickly excused myself and got out of there. Tom and Sandra chided me for being out alone like that when I told them about my experience. I quit hiking and skiing without a companion. Since everyone was either working or in school that meant that I only got to go out on weekends if I could talk someone into coming along. It's just not safe for a young girl to be out on her own in today's world.

It came home to me that life as a young girl had its serious limitations, whether or not I liked it.

----<0>----

Author's Note: Thank you for hanging in there! I am pleased that I am not the only one who likes this story. I will be doing a little international travel over the next week and will not be able to post, so there will be a break in the action. Also, please forgive me but this chapter and the next are not necessarily sequential. Andi decided, as this story is a reminiscence of past events, to address the next parts of her story by topic instead of by sequence. There is overlap in the time lines. The approach is likely to continue. You will see what I mean when you read it. She has tried to give time references as appropriate for the various story elements. Please don't let that confuse you.

NotExpected 10

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Every once in a while whatever little bit of male that was left in me yelled STOP! I had to take time out for my old favorite past times. I did a little wood working in the garage, skied or hiked some of my favorite trails, read a few action novels, and even played my favorite violent video games. I would have liked to go sailing, but winter in Wisconsin is neither the time or place for that activity. One day, while skiing on the local cross country ski trails by myself, an older guy tried getting a bit too friendly. It felt wrong and creepy. I quickly excused myself and got out of there. Tom and Sandra chided me for being out alone like that when I told them about my experience. I quit hiking and skiing without a companion. Since everyone was either working or in school that meant that I only got to go out on weekends if I could talk someone into coming along. It's just not safe for a young girl to be out on her own in today's world. It came home to me that life as a young girl had its serious limitations, whether or not I liked it.

Chapter 10

It turned out that getting let go from work was a timely thing. I was in pain most of April and the early part of May. While the pain was not excruciating, it was always there. At times the pain was moderately severe and prolonged. Usually at night. I could normally keep the pain under control with over the counter painkillers. Occasionally I had to use something a little stronger that had been prescribed by my doctor. If I had still been working, I would have taken a lot of sick days.

The pains that I endured were similar to what my mother had called growing pains when I was young. For me, however, it was a case of shrinking and realigning instead of growing. During this time period, my skeletal structure slowly and painfully morphed to align with my new chromosomes. My pelvis widened a bit into something more fitting a preteen child-bearing female. My shoulders contracted to typical female specifications and I lost a lot of height. My facial structure morphed to display a very feminine heart shaped face with high cheekbones. If you had known me before the changes, you could still some of the old Andy. I was a much better looking young feminine version of my former self. I developed a graceful, slender, feminine neck. The pitch of my voice rose to be a very definite soprano. I was still eating almost nothing so my weight continued to drop.

My appetite returned, after a fashion, in early May and the structural changes seemed to stop, relieving the pain. My doctor said that I now, at 5' 2" and 90 lbs, possessed the skeletal structure and the stature of a tall, skinny, twelve-year-old girl. Since I was now a preteen, it would seem that Grandma Broussard was a little off in her estimate of the age of the girl that would be Sandra’s best friend.

By all accounts, I had turned into one of the cutest twelve-year-olds that anyone claimed to have ever seen. You had to be one of my doctors to view the only external evidence that I was not complete female yet. I was only missing a vaginal opening to be complete. I had a clitoris, the urethra was in the right place, and the labia were perfectly formed but I didn’t have an opening. My medical support team were fascinated. An ultrasound showed a lot of confusion inside, which accounted for the frequent strong cramping that I had been experiencing.

My gynecologist had been monitoring me since the end of March. In mid-May, she assured me that if the changes continued, and why wouldn't they, I'd be a fully functioning female in short order.

The crystal agreed with the doctor’s assessment. It was getting progressively more and more pink. I found myself urging it to hurry up and complete the transition. There wasn't very much blue left at all. The remaining bluish tinge was only found at the heart of the crystal.

——<0>——

Sandra turned thirty-two in mid-April. I encouraged Tom to take her out for a romantic dinner, but Sandra wanted to include me in the celebration, so we ended up having a quiet dinner at the condo with just the three of us. Tom and I worked together to fix her a nice meal. Tom turned out to be a fair hand in the kitchen, making a very credible Louisianian Jambalaya. I made a birthday cake which we ate it with ice cream for dessert before opening her presents.

I gave Sandra a card with a drawing of two girlfriends walking together, one with her arm around the shoulders of the other. The caption read: ‘Best Friends make the good times better and the hard times easier.’

When she opened the small box that I had wrapped for her she gushed, “I love it!”

My gift to her was a pair of simple necklaces, each having half of a heart. When the pendants were put together the engraving said ‘Best Friends’. They were made of sterling silver and I had one engraved with ‘Sandra’ and the other with ‘Andi’.

“I guess that this one belongs to you,” she said as she hung the one with my name around my neck. I hung hers around her neck and we hugged.

“I love you,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s not much, but it says what’s in my heart.”

“And what’s in mine,” she whispered back. “It is a very thoughtful gift. Actually, you gave me an early birthday present last month when you set me free. That was a true act of love that I can never repay, but these are wonderful too. These necklaces represent our love and friendship, and speaks to your kindness.”

We both cried mostly happy tears for a minute before breaking our hug.

Tom gave her a very nice, and expensive, pair of dangly diamond earrings. She gave him a quick hug and a peck on the lips when she told him that she absolutely loved them.

The poor guy looked confused.

When Sandra was off taking a birthday call from one of her sisters and the two of us were alone cleaning up after dinner, he quietly asked me, “I give her a couple of thousand dollars worth of diamonds and all I get is a quick kiss. You give her a nice, but relatively inexpensive necklace and she hugs you like she got the best thing in the world. What’s up with that?”

I sighed, “First of all, this is not a competition. You’ve already got the girl, but you still have a lot to learn about women, lover boy. She does love your gift. It is impressive. Mine, on the other hand means something special to her. The necklace may not be much, but it represents years of love and shared experience. The necklace, by itself, is not important. The value is in what it represents. Meaning trumps monetary value every time with your girl. You need to remember that.”

“What you are saying,” he reflected back to me, “is that I don’t need to spend lots of money on gifts for her. I just need to select something with meaning.”

“Who said that you were a slow learner?” I grinned as I gave him a poke in the ribs. “The gift should speak to your relationship.”

“This is going to be hard,” he groaned.

“It doesn’t hurt if your gifts are meaningful AND expensive,” I gave him a sly smile. “But, with Sandra, meaning is better than expensive if you can only do one. Money does not mean as much as love to her.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he sighed.

“No problem, lover boy.” I grinned. “Just keep treating her right and demonstrate your love every day and it will all workout. She will pay you back by doing the same for you. Remember that she’s marrying you, not your money.”

——<0>——

Speaking of money, after getting let go by the University, I spent a lot of time worrying about what I was going to do to earn a living. I applied for quite a few jobs without success. The glowing recommendation from my former supervisor usually got me in the door but when I showed up for interviews, the interviewer typically got mad at me for pretending to be an adult.

I thought of going into business for myself, but my current expertise was in helping people with their computers. Since I had to interface with real people, I would run into the same problems with a consulting business that I had at the University.

Not only that, but the only business expertise in the family was leaving me. I have never had any talent for business. I strongly dislike marketing, accounting, and all the other tasks that a business owner must do.

I wasn’t a software developer so I couldn’t hide at home and just write code either.

The clock was ticking on my severance pay. I was getting very worried as the weeks went by without a job. Unemployment benefits would never make up for the lost salary.

As I previously mentioned, I was getting the condo in the dissolution. Sandra wouldn't need it. I knew that I had to find a way to pay the mortgage or I would have to rent or sell it soon. My share of the soon-to-be-separated joint savings and checking accounts wouldn't last too long and it was unlikely that I would find a good enough job to afford the mortgage payments. It had taken both of our incomes to qualify for the loan in the first place.

Sandra did agree to pay rent until she moved in with Tom after the wedding, which helped for a few weeks. I was seriously thinking of putting the unit up for rent when she moved out. I hadn’t made up my mind whether to take up my mother's offer to move back home or to move in with the newlyweds, though I was leaning towards my mother’s offer. It was quickly becoming apparent that I would have to do one or the other.

Sandra had told me, early on, that I could live with her and Tom and become a part of their family, as stated in the prophecy. I wasn't convinced that was in my best interest. She adamantly reaffirmed that she really did want me in her life and had told Tom, in no uncertain terms, that she and I would continue to be close friends and confidants. What she had proposed was a lot like having your wife's best friend and/or ex-husband move in with you as part of the family. That seemed a little weird to both Tom and me. She tried to convince us that her proposal was different because of our apparent age difference. It was more like him marrying a woman with a preteen daughter. The girl is part of the package. I had to think about that idea.

——<0>——

I started having trouble driving my big F250 pickup truck when my height slipped under 5’ 4” at the end of March. It was hard to reach the pedals and to see over the dashboard. It was with great sadness that I traded my favorite truck for a five-year-old Honda Accord, which is much more friendly to short people. The car was a bit worn around the edges, but I eventually came to love it. I even gave it a name: Butterfly. It was a dainty, compared to my truck, beige colored car.

Unfortunately, I was stopped a few times by the police on suspicion of joy riding in my parent's car. Sandra came to my rescue each time since my driver’s license didn't match the person. The letter from my doctor about the changes I had experienced was useful in convincing the police to back off. I had been waiting for the name change to take place so that I could get a license that had a female name to go with the new gender identifier, but finally broke down and got a new driver’s license in the name of Andrew Matthew, female, age 32. My picture on the license was pretty cute, for a change.

I got pulled over a few more times after updating my license. The policemen didn’t seem to be convinced that I really was thirty-two even when they ran a check on my license. They were convinced that I was no more than thirteen. I think that word got around the local police force that it wasn’t worth stopping me. One day when I got pulled over, there was a long wait while the policeman was obviously running my plate through dispatch. Eventually, the policeman turned off his lights and drove away with a wave without bothering to come check my license. The dispatcher must have told him of my circumstance. I didn’t have any more problems with the local police after that. Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to try my luck outside my hometown unless it was absolutely necessary.

——<0>——

After their formal engagement, Tom and Sandra's wedding preparations kicked into high gear. It was decided to hold the wedding in Louisiana where Tom's substantial extended family was centered. As luck would have it, the earliest date that they could hold the ceremony and accommodate the most family was exactly nine months after our first visit to the Bayou State. It was also was on the day that would have been Sandra’s and my tenth wedding anniversary. A pair of coincidences that was not lost on either of us.

I eventually resigned myself to the inevitable, and, as her BFF, was immersed in the wedding planning. We spent many a long evening going over the plans while Sandra gave me girl lessons.

When Sandra and I were married, we were pretty poor and just out of college, so our wedding had been simple. Not so with this wedding. Sandra's commissions had been piling up and she was marrying a wealthy man from a prominent family who was ecstatic that their last child was finally getting married. It quickly became obvious that Tom’s family expected a big wedding and no expense was to be spared. Tom and his family picked up most of the bill. Sandra’s parents had already paid for one wedding for Sandra and, being merely upper middle class instead of filthy rich, weren’t excited about going into debt for another one.

I know that the couple would have been happy with a quick visit to a Justice of the Peace to do the deed, but that would not have gone down well with Tom’s family. Sandra admitted to me that, while she had been happy with our modest wedding, as a little girl she’d always dreamed of having a big wedding. She was excited to finally have one.

I went dress shopping with Sandra and her mother and we looked at dozens of dresses before she decided on a full skirted affair with an impossibly long train that cost a little more than three months of my former university salary. She could have spent a lot more. The dress seemed to be missing a lot of its top, showing her shoulders and a lot of cleavage. I think that we spent just as much time finding the right lingerie to go with it. That wasn’t cheap either. I am constantly amazed that the cost of a few ounces of women’s fine lingerie. Ounce for ounce, it rivals the price of silver. I am pretty sure that Tom knew that he'd won the sexual lottery when he peeled Sandra’s wedding dress off her on their wedding day and baby making began in earnest.

Early in the process, Sandra approached me as her best friend to be her Maid-of-Honor. I pointed out to her that I was a little young looking to be a Maid-of-Honor and too old to be a flower girl. It also just seemed wrong for the Bride to recruit her ex-husband to be the Maid-of-Honor. I wryly suggested that I be the one to give her away as I was the last one to have the honor to "hold her hand". At first, I wasn't sure that I even wanted to go, but I saw that it would mean a lot to her, so I consented to a least being there. She eventually wore me down and I signed on to be the youngest looking ever Maid-of-Honor. This commitment put me even deeper into the wedding planning.

There were endless details to attend to. As Maid-of-Honor, I was obligated to organize a wedding shower and bachelorette party. I had no idea where to begin. Sandra's mother and one of her sisters came to my rescue and helped with the planning. As the rest of the bridesmaids were chosen, they also started to help. I didn't realize just how many women that Sandra was friends with until we started putting together invitation lists. It was daunting and I felt like a fraud with my name next to those of all these real women.

The couple had receptions both in Louisiana the day of the wedding and at the house in Wisconsin right after the honeymoon. The one at the house was an informal barbecue buffet with a couple of hundred of their closest friends and business associates along with family. The parties ended up being the social event of the year in both towns. I nearly choked when I saw the budget allocated for the wedding and two receptions. The budget, covered mostly by Tom, equaled two years of my former annual salary, before taxes, and nobody seemed to care. Hanging out with the rich took some time to get used to.

Pulling off a big wedding in only three months takes a lot of effort. Tom hired a couple of wedding planners, one to handle all the arrangements in Wisconsin and another to handle things in Louisiana. The wedding planners cleared their schedules and worked full time on the wedding, with Tom, Sandra, and their mothers intimately involved in the bigger decisions. I was also dragged into the planning.

The wedding preparations turned out to be a welcome distraction through the first of May. The planning helped to take my mind off the pain of my skeletal restructuring.

Sandra and Tom went on dates as often as they could. Their relationship seemed to deepen with every time they went out. I spent many a lonely evening at home, practicing my feminine arts, while waiting for Sandra to get home. She seemed to love to have someone to share the euphoria of each evening with. If I was asleep when she got home, she’d wake me up to talk about her deepening love for Tom and their plans for the future. It was a bit of a downer for me, but it was good to see her so happy and bubbly. I am pretty sure that, on these evenings, she forgot that she was talking to her soon-to-be ex-husband instead of her BFF. I wondered if she was this way after we got engaged?

Sandra would be moving in with Tom after the wedding, of course. When I was non-committal about joining them, she kept trying to convince me. Tom eventually got on board with the idea and joined forces with Sandra to entice me to become part of their household.

I was invited to his house a few times for war councils as plans were being made for the wedding. They tried enticing me with the opulence of his mansion.

Sandra was truly winning the lottery.

The house was five to six times the size of our upscale three-bedroom condo, sat on ten acres of prime land, and required a housekeeper and groundskeeper to keep things running. The driveway must have been a hundred yards long, after you passed through an imposing security gate at the street. Being located on a hill overlooking Lake Michigan, the house had a stunning view. The grounds were immaculate and there was a private dock in a well-protected cove. Of course, the rich guy had pools, both inside and out, and a court that could be used either for tennis or basketball. There was a large flat lawn out front where it is rumored that helicopters occasionally landed. There was a large nanny apartment over the five-car garage. There were outbuildings that included two small guest cottages, a large shed, and a large barn-like building that had apparently been built as some kind of studio by a prior owner. The studio building had two stories and at least twice the square footage as our condo.

After the first couple of visits to the mansion, I was still not responding positively to their efforts to get me to move in with them. It was on one of the third visit to his mansion that Tom finally dangled the right carrot in front of me.

The first couple of times I visited he showed us all the rich guy stuff that most people are interested in. He also showed me the suite that would be my room. It was amazing, with a sitting area, a king-sized princess bed complete with canopy, a walk-in closet that looked like it could be a warehouse, and a bathroom that you could get lost it. It was all fine and good, but not enough to draw me in. But on my third visit, Sandra suggested that he show me the inside of the studio building.

He had, off-handedly, mentioned that he used the studio as his creative space during our prior visits but didn’t focus on it, thinking that we wouldn’t find it interesting. Sandra went out there once when he needed to get something and one look was enough for her to realize that I would die to see such a place, being the techno geek that I am. I knew that Tom was a fellow techno geek, but I didn't realize just how much of tech wizard he was until he showed me the Studio.

I was bowled over just walking through the door.

"OMG!" I had exclaimed in reverent awe when we first walked into the building.

"You like it?" He asked with a smile.

"This place is amazing!" I enthused as I tried to take it all in.

The ground floor was totally open and had a high ceiling. There was a machine shop on one side of the space, fully equipped with the latest and greatest automated milling machines, lathes, cutters, etc. There were welding machines and everything else that a mechanic/machinist could ever want. He showed me all the equipment and some of the current projects that he and his team were fabricating. He told me that he had several technicians that worked full time with him developing and testing prototypes of his inventions. As he gave me the tour, he explained that the reason that he wanted Sandra to help on the financial side of things is that he was targeting the medical equipment business for his next start up. This I already knew. Her expertise was a perfect fit for his business plan. When he discovered that the medical industry was competitive with the defense industry in wealth, he had decided to focus his energies there. He had spent most of the last year researching the medical equipment and prosthetics industry and toying with new designs for each as he discovered opportunity. He had spent a lot of time talking with medical professionals to see what they really needed to do their job better. He already had several design projects underway.

In other parts of his shop, he had assembly areas, an electronics development area, and even some wood shop equipment. I was amazed at the quality of everything on display.

Upstairs, there was a large room with four state-of-the-art workstations and two top of the line 3D printers.

"We do a lot of design optimization," he explained. "We are trying to design products that are efficient, effective, and cost as little as possible to manufacture. The computing power required to get answers in a timely fashion is very substantial."

He then opened the door into the computer room at the back of the building and I fell in love.

There, in the middle of the room as a small mainframe and rack upon rack of hard drives, switches, air conditioning equipment and other computing parts and pieces.

Having your very own computer center is WAY beyond cool. There are not words to describe it. I about burst into flame with the excitement.

"You weren't joking about needing computing power," I observed when I could collect myself, I was so excited that I felt like hopping up and down and squealing like, well, like a young tween girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. I barely restrained myself.

"Who maintains all of this?" I asked in wondering awe once they peeled me off the ceiling.

"We have a contract with a software guy who manages the center for us," He grinned at me. He and Sandra were both laughing at my obvious excitement. "He maintains the system and optimization software, making modifications as needed. We call the manufacturer if there's any problem with the hardware and they fly a technician in if something needs working on."

I wandered around the room in awe, almost afraid to actually touch anything. I did risk a gentle caress of the mainframe. "I would love to spend time here."

"The university has gone almost exclusively to PCs," I mentioned to him. "But the engineering college has their own mainframe computing center for the bigger projects and simulations. The science researchers use it too. They even let me help them out with it from time to time. I think that your setup is even more impressive"

"Don't be so modest, Andi." Sandra chided me with a grin. "From what you've told me, you even found a way to increase the speed of their machine."

"That was a fluke," I waved off the compliment. "Their technicians just couldn't see the obvious."

I sighed.

"What's wrong," Tom asked with concern.

Sandra answered for me, "What's wrong, is that I think that working with your computer system would be a dream come true for little miss computer geek."

"Really?" Tom asked thoughtfully.

I just nodded.

The rest of the tour was anti-climactic, but impressive just the same. I just don't remember much else as I was overwhelmed thinking about that computing facility.

It had never occurred to me that Sandra was marrying the real-world equivalent of Tony Stark.

I couldn't get that computer system out of my mind. The computer geek in me really wanted to spend some time with it.

Tom promised me access if I moved in with them.

Oh, that was so VERY tempting!

At one-point Sandra excused herself to take care of some detail related to the wedding. I think that the tour bored her. This was one of the first times that Tom and I had ever been alone together.

After she was gone, Tom said with sincerity, “You know that I didn’t intend to take Sandra from you?”

I sighed, “You didn’t take Sandra from me, your Grandmother’s magic accomplished that. We wouldn’t be standing here if she hadn’t turned me into a girl.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I feel responsible for that. I know how much your marriage meant to her and to you and I tried to honor that. I did my best to stay out of it until Sandra informed me that the marriage was over. Honestly, I thought you were a great guy. I think that we could have been friends.”

“For the record,” I informed him with another sigh, “I think that you are a pretty great guy yourself. You treat Sandra with respect, and I appreciate that. Your love for her is obvious. I agree that we could have been friends if you hadn’t been so infatuated with my wife. Maybe we can be friends now that there is no longer competition for her affections.”

“Maybe,” he replied, “I’ve never been friends with a young girl before, but I think we can make it work. We do seem to have a number of common interests, beside Sandra.

“I hope that she can come to love me as much as she loves the memory of Andy and their time together,” he said wistfully. “Your love must have been a wonder to behold. I am more than a little intimidated by her memory of what you two had and with the love that you two share now. I don’t know if I will be able to measure up.”

“Just keep treating her right,” I advised him, “and build your own good memories with her. Love grows over time with shared loving experiences.

“If you don’t treat her right,” I added with a stern expression, “you’ll have me to deal with. I’ll be watching you.”

He groaned, “Nothing like a little pressure!”

With a sly grin, he asked, “What should I know about her to stay on her good side?”

I laughed, “You are on your own there, buddy. You need to gain those insights on your own the same way I did. By experience.”

——<0>——

As the wedding plans and my girl training ground on, I kept in touch with my lawyer.

One afternoon at the end of April she called me to let me know that we had a court date set in mid-May.

I let Sandra know about our upcoming court appearance when she got home from work. She broke her date with Tom that night and the two of us stayed home together and ignored the phones.

We pulled out our photo albums and spent the evening reminiscing. That evening we laughed a lot and cried a lot as we talked about the good times that we had shared.

It was a double chocolate ice cream kind of evening. We consumed more than was healthy.

I learned that chocolate ice cream is surprisingly therapeutic.

NotExpected 11

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn As the wedding plans and my girl training ground on, I kept in touch with my lawyer. One afternoon at the end of April she called me to let me know that we had a court date set in mid-May. I let Sandra know about our upcoming court appearance when she got home from work. She broke her date with Tom that night and the two of us stayed home together and ignored the phones. We pulled out our photo albums and spent the evening reminiscing. That evening we laughed a lot and cried a lot as we talked about the good times that we had shared. It was a double chocolate ice cream kind of evening. We consumed more than was healthy. I learned that chocolate ice cream is surprisingly therapeutic.

Chapter 11

"That seems to be a lot for a weekend," I observed as Sandra rolled a large suitcase to the entry of our condo.

She just shrugged, "I don't really know what I'll need. You'll be doing the same thing as you embrace your femininity. A girl has to be prepared for anything. Unlike guys, who only need one or two changes to be prepared for just about any occasion."

It was a Friday in mid-May and the day of the hearing on our dissolution. I also had a hearing on my petition for a name and gender change. Our plan was to drive together to the Courthouse in my car. After the hearing, Tom was going to whisk Sandra away on a corporate jet to meet his parents and extended family in Louisiana. Tom didn’t actually own his own jet but he did subscribe to a corporate jet plan, kind of like a time-share condo. He was entitled to so many "free" trips a year, if you call the exorbitant annual dues free.

With the wedding only a month away, Tom's family was annoyed that they had not met his fiancé face-to-face. Tom and Sandra thought it best to wait until after the dissolution was final before taking her to meet the clan. Tom’s family knew that Sandra was in the midst of a divorce and that she didn’t want to meet the family until she was a single woman again. They could, grudgingly, accept the excuse.

Of course, Tom had already been vetted by Sandra's family as they all live in the area. Sandra told me that the first meeting of Tom with her family had been very tense. Her family hadn’t yet come to grips with my exit from their family circle. I had been a well-loved member of Sandra's family and no one was particularly happy that Sandra had found a new man. At that point they still needed to be convinced that I wasn't being dumped for a better offer. It took time, and some input from me, before her family started to take Tom into their hearts as they had done with me. This was expected. Sandra and I knew that, given the way things had transpired, it would be a while before Sandra's family was entirely comfortable with Sandra's new husband. Being the basically good guy that he is, Tom did eventually win them over. I was pleased, however, that I was so well thought of by my soon-to-be ex in-laws.

Before she left, Sandra and I had talked a lot about her first trip to Louisiana to meet Tom's family. To say that she had been nervous is an understatement. Tom's father was a civil court judge and his mother was a lawyer that specializes in family law. Tom is their youngest child and had been the only one unmarried at the time. His siblings had several children each, with the oldest few of Tom's nieces and nephews being about the same as my apparent age. While he was the richest sibling, his brother and sister were no slouches in the money-making department either. They were an intimidating group.

Sandra had been on the phone a lot with her future mother-in-law as the wedding planning had progressed but had avoided giving her the specifics of how she and Tom came to be a couple. That would all come to a head that weekend. And she was scared to death about meeting the family for the first time.

"Nice outfit," I observed as she grabbed a bagel and orange juice out of the small kitchen.

"You don't think it's too much?" She nervously asked. We must have spent two hours last night pulling outfits out of her closet and debating the pros and cons of each. She finally decided on a conservative skirt suit that would be appropriate for both the hearing and the introduction to Tom's family. We even debated what lingerie she should wear. I suggested that she probably didn't want to feel too sexy when meeting the Judge and Tom's family, so she went with something plain and conservative. She would save the sexy stuff for the honeymoon.

She was also wore her wedding ring necklace. She hadn't said anything, but I knew that the necklace would be replaced before she landed in Louisiana.

I also wore my wedding band necklace to court. I did retire it to occasional use after the dissolution was final, but I waited a few days to do it. I have left it hanging in open sight in my room all the years since as a reminder of the good times that Sandra and I had once had. I also hung my friendship necklace with it to remind me of the wonderful experiences that Sandra and I had had and would have in the future. Both necklaces have been worn fairly frequently.

"We've been over this," I reminded her. "You look great, girlfriend."

She comes over and fluffs my hair a little and said, "And so do you little girl."

We also debated my outfit last night. What does a twelve-year-old girl wear to court when she is splitting up with her wife? I don't think that there is a standard protocol for that. We decided that I needed to wear something that left no doubt that I am no longer husband material, as if my apparent age and gender are not enough. I wore a cute knee length dress with cap sleeves and an empire waist that emphasized my small breasts. My body had stabilized at a height of 5' 2" and a skinny 90 lbs and I don’t appear to be regressing in age any longer. My A cup breasts eliminated any remaining doubt that I was now female. My hair had grown out some, but still didn't quite reach my shoulders. Sandra had shown me how to use a curling iron and I had spent time on it that morning making sure that it looked as feminine as possible. Sandra had me put a barrette with a bow in my hair. I had also painted my finger and toenails to match my outfit and was wearing open toe sandals with a small heel. At the end of April, Sandra had talked me into getting my ears pierced so my still healing ears also sported a cute set of small half carat princess-cut diamond studs set in platinum, a gift from Tom. The man likes diamonds.

Sandra said that I looked too cute for words. Looking in the mirror, I agreed with her.

Standing in front of a full length mirror the night before it occurred to me that we did look like mother and daughter. We had the same color hair and many of the same physical features.

After a couple of months of practice, I was getting pretty good at braiding hair, though I still had a way to go before being considered an expert. I would frequently practice on Sandra's mid-back length hair during our girl lessons. While we were waiting to leave for the hearing, I had her sit down and I braided a fishtail French braid for her. It added another layer of sophistication to her look.

I remember thinking, while I was braiding her mid-back length hair, that I could hardly wait until mine is long enough for braids. It would be another year before my hair was long enough to do some fun stuff with. It eventually grew out to be as long as Sandra's and I love all the hairstyles that I can now put it in.

Eventually it was time to go and we wrestled her suitcase into Butterfly, my Honda car. We had a melancholy discussion about some of the good times we'd had over the years as she drove us to the Courthouse. She apologized to me several times for being at fault for the end of our marriage. I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, but my assurances fell on deaf ears. I know that both of us were sad that we had been forced into our current situation, but Sandra was also happy about the new love in her life. She still had some guilt issues about how she had come to be in love with Tom but her new love carried her past it.

We met Tom at the Courthouse parking garage and he effortlessly transferred her bag to his Lexus, muttering something about too much stuff for a weekend. Sandra glared at him. Tom still had a lot to learn about women.

I noticed that he only had a small gym bag for his stuff tossed in the trunk of his car.

Outside the assigned court room, we met with my lawyer and doctor who had both come to reassure the Judge that this was a real situation.

There were several other couples on the docket. They all looked like they are going to do great harm to each other as their lawyers kept them apart. It seemed obvious to me that our case would be the easiest one for the judge to solve that day.

The Judge must have thought so too, as we were the first case that he called forward after everyone was settled in the courtroom.

"Where's the husband?" he asked as we all approached the bench.

I raised my hand and give him a little girly wave. "Here, Your Honor."

He stared at me for a moment. "I've read the petition, but I still can't wrap my head around this. Please prove to me that you're not playing a joke on the court."

At this point, my lawyer stepped forward and set out my medical history before the Judge. In it was a series of photos taken every week over the past seven months that I've been seeing my doctor.

"Your Honor, these images demonstrate the husband's transformation over the last six and a half months," my lawyer explained as the Judge studied the pictures. "As you can see, he starts out as a healthy male and ends up as the girl that you see standing before you. Blood tests at the start of this process show Andy as having typical male XY chromosomes. Blood tests taken two months ago, when the petition was filed, show that Andi now has typical female XX chromosomes. In between there was an interesting mix of chromosome pairs, the like of which have never been documented by medical science that we know of. Over the course of the transition period, Andy lost weight and height and started to display typical female sex characteristics, including the loss of male genitalia, by natural means and not surgery, the formation of incomplete female genitalia, the development of female breasts, rearrangement of skeletal structure, redistribution of fat, and loss of facial and body hair. Andi's gynecologist tells me that her internal organs are currently in a state of flux and that it is expected that, if the transformation continues on its current trajectory, that Andi will soon have all the organs and functions of a naturally born genetic female. This has all happened by natural means that have yet to be explained. The only hormone therapy occurred early in this process as an attempt to stop the changes. The therapy was ineffective. Andi has experienced age regression in addition to spontaneous gender change, now having the physical body typical of a twelve-year-old female. As a result of these changes, Andy can no longer fill his/her role as the husband that Sandra married. The situation has forced the couple to jointly request a legal dissolution of their marriage commitment and they have agreed to the attached disposition of assets. There is no fault finding in this case and the applicants will remain the best of friends, but not as husband and wife."

"Doctor," the Judge asked my physician, "convince me that this is not a hoax."

"Your Honor," she began, "Andy came to me six and a half months ago with unusual symptoms and I have met with him/her every week since. It has been a most intriguing case and I have involved the services of a number of specialists in the search for a cause. We know of no scientific basis for these changes. We also recently ran DNA tests on hair samples from a year ago and from a month ago and found a very strong agreement in the results. They are an almost exact match. Her lawyer has also had her current fingerprints compared to those taken several years ago when he was first employed at the University. Aside from the size, the patterns are precisely the same on all fingers. You will find the prints and analysis in my report."

"Young lady," he addressed me, "is all this true?"

"Yes, Your Honor." I replied with confidence.

He looked at me as he was pondering the evidence.

"Tell me about your employment and ability to support yourself if this becomes final." He directed.

"I was let go by my employer two months ago as a budget cutting measure and the fact that I could no longer do the work assigned," I began, "but what they really meant is that my work was excellent but our clients did not want to work with me based on perceptions of my age. I was no longer useful to them. They did provide me with three months’ severance pay and health benefits, which run out in a month. I have been looking for work, but there's not much out there for a twelve-year-old IT technician. I am worried about my ability to support myself. In the interim both my wife and parents have offered me shelter and support until we can resolve the problem."

Looking at Sandra, he continued, "I have reviewed the proposed division of assets and see that it is heavily weighted in your husband's favor. Why is that?"

"I am currently in a position that provides me with great financial security and the potential for a substantial income in the future." She responded, "I want to help Andi to be in the best possible position to move forward in her life. I can recover much better from this dissolution that she currently can."

"Why aren’t you agreeing to pay alimony?" the Judge asked.

"She offered to, Your Honor," I answered in Sandra's behalf, "but I refused it. I want us both to be unfettered by continuing commitments."

"That’s noble of you, young lady," the Judge noted, "Are you sure about that? I don’t want you to come back to the court after changing your mind."

"I am sure, Your Honor," I replied.

"Why do you want this dissolution?" He asked Sandra.

With tears in her eyes, she replied, "I love Andi, and never wanted these changes to happen. If he hadn’t transformed into a young girl, we wouldn’t be here. Unfortunately, the changes have taken place and neither of us can see how we can remain married. She is no longer the man that I married. We both agree that our marriage is effectively over and that this is the right thing to do. What we do still have is a strong friendship. We will be best girlfriends for life."

"I still can't wrap my head around this," the Judge said, "but the facts seem clear that Andy can no longer function in the role that the marriage was originally founded on, through processes unknown and outside his, err, her control. The distribution of assets seems very lopsided to me and I think that Sandra should be paying alimony, but both parties are in agreement that this is what is in their best interests. Having not heard any objections to the petition, I grant the petition for dissolution. From this moment onward, you two are no longer married. May you each find happiness."

With that pronouncement, our marriage officially ended.

Sandra and I hugged and we both shed a few silent tears. She whispered that she still loved me, then left the courtroom hand-in-hand with Tom.

The Judge then picked up the petition for my name and gender change and commented, "I take it that, given our discussions here today, that I need to grant your petition for a name change and decree that you are now genetically female in the eyes of the Law as well as in the eyes of Science."

"Yes, please, Your Honor" I replied.

With that, in addition to being newly single, I legally became Andrea Marie, female.

I had copies of the finalized court decrees in hand before lunch time.

With the dissolution finalized, Sandra was free to pursue her marriage to Tom. At the time, I didn't know where my future would lead me. I did know that I would need to talk to someone after the courtroom experience, so I had scheduled an appointment with my psychologist for right after lunch. She had blocked out an hour and a half for me and I needed every minute of it.

Feeling a little better about the events of the day after talking to the psychologist, I headed to the DMV with the new court approved name change decree in hand to change the name on my driver’s license.

By late afternoon I found myself sitting at my parent’s breakfast table filling in the final blanks on applications to change my various records. I attached copies of the court decrees and the affidavit from my doctor. The applications were ready to go in the mail before my parents arrived home from work. To keep myself busy, if for no other reason, I took the time to fix a nice dinner for my parents. I really did not want to be home alone in the condo where Sandra and I had spent so much time together. I ended up staying the weekend in my childhood home.

A few weeks later I received my new birth certificate. It was a bittersweet experience. The date hadn't changed, just the gender and name. Other changed documents were also trickling in.

The legal process had run its course, and, by the coloring of the crystal, my physical changes would soon be completed.

NotExpected 12

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn A few weeks later I received my new birth certificate. It was a bittersweet experience. The date hadn't changed, just the gender and name. Other changed documents were also trickling in. The legal process had run its course, and, by the coloring of the crystal, my physical changes would soon be completed.

Chapter 12

Late that Saturday afternoon while Tom and Sandra were in Louisiana, I received a rather unexpected and odd phone call. I was at the boatyard with my parents working to get their sailboat ready to launch for the summer season.

"Hello?" I answered the call. The caller ID indicated that the call was being made from a Louisiana number.

"Is this Andy?" An authoritatively gruff male voice inquired.

"Yes sir," I replied, "Who is this?"

"I am Tom's father," he replied. "Sandra gave me your number. I was wondering if you would have the time and be willing to help me understand a few things."

"I'm with my parents right now," I inform him. "Give me a minute and I will take the time."

I muted the phone and let my parents know what was going on. They agreed that I should take the call, so I went to an office in a corner of the boatyard for a little privacy.

"Thank you," he sounded sincere. "I am trying to get to the bottom of what happened to you and Sandra and what role my son played in it."

"While I like Tom, he's not exactly my favorite person today," I told him. Even though I was at peace with the dissolution, I still couldn't completely let go of a feeling of displeasure for the situation and Tom's role in it.

"I can understand that," he says, "and if what I'm hearing is true, he's not exactly high on my list of favorite people either. I might be able to help you if I can find out what's really going on."

Over the phone I could sense his displeasure with his son and felt confident that I could talk with him. So, I did.

We talked for almost an hour. He asked a lot of questions about the visit that Sandra and I had made to his mother, Grandma Broussard, and what happened there. He wanted to know what our marriage was like before the visit. He asked about the impact that these actions had on my life. He specifically wanted to know about how it impacted my employability and my relationship with Sandra.

At one point, my mother had come to join me and was eavesdropping on my side of the conversation. With the Judge’s permission, I put the phone on speaker so that she could join the conversation.

He also asked mom a few questions about me and Sandra. She let it be known that neither she nor my father were happy about losing such a wonderful daughter-in-law and hoped that they would appreciate her as much as they had.

While he was flawlessly polite, the conversation was very much an inquisition. When he was done, he thanked me, and my mother, for our time and frankness. He said that he was impressed with my maturity.

He never said what he was going to do with all the information that I provided. It was a strange conversation.

Then Tom's mother got on the phone. A similar long friendly but firm inquisition ensued. She focused mostly on searching out the nature and status of my current relationship with Sandra and my future plans, which were totally unclear at that point. She also asked about how I felt about my transformation and how well I was adapting to my new reality.

She and my mother also spent time chatting about the situation.

Like her husband, she was polite and thanked me for my time and complimented my maturity and apologized for her son's thoughtlessness and mother-in-law's meddling.

Also like her husband, she made no comment about what they were going to do with this information. Neither of them said anything about what was going on in Louisiana. Judging from the questions, I imagine that they had grilled Sandra and Tom before calling me.

I found out what it was all about when Tom brought Sandra home Sunday evening.

-----<0>-----

Tom brought Sandra home to the condo late in the evening after having gone out for dinner on the way home from the airport.

As they came in the door, I couldn't help thinking what a good-looking couple they were. He was tall, a little over six feet, and was starting to look much fitter than he did when I first met him. The slacks he was wearing looked good on him, as did the open collared shirt and sports coat. Sandra was by now a tall, willowy dark-haired beauty wearing a sheath dress that came to mid-thigh, dark stockings, and matching heels. She was definitely going to be a trophy wife. As I looked at her, I realized that, in many ways, she no longer resembled the plainer, shorter, slightly plump girl that I had been married to. The changes had been good to both of them.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk Andi?" Tom asked me. He seemed to be a bit subdued.

"Sure," I replied, "Come on in."

Tom and Sandra settled on the love seat, of course, holding hands while I took a seat on the opposing couch.

Tom gave Sandra a look and she gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Tom looked me in the eye and began, "Andi, I know that I've apologized to you before for this mess, but I need to apologize to you again. I understand that my parents called you yesterday and they found out a lot more than what I had told them about how our current situation came to be. My parents had taken Sandra for a long walk earlier in the day and gotten similar information out of her. I was summoned to the study and really raked over the coals before they called you. They opened my eyes as to just how badly I had interfered with your life and marriage. I tried to tell them that I had no intention of causing harm or of breaking up your marriage, that I didn't know that Grandma would do something like this when I set up your meeting with her. I was just trying to help a friend get her heart's desire. They are pretty upset with Grandma too.

"There is nothing that I can do to undo the harm that Grandma and I have done to you. And to Sandra." He gave Sandra a stricken look.

"Tom, your love has made up for much of the harm that you have done to me. I know that it wasn't intentional, and I still miss my Andy. There are still times that I feel unfaithful to him when I am with you, but what can we do about it? It as if he has died and left me behind." Sandra interrupted him. She looked at me with a gentle smile, "The sisterly love that Andi and I now share is different than what we had before all this, but it is good. Very good."

Tom smiled at her and gave her a quick kiss then turned his attention back to me.

Continuing he said, "As you know, my father is a civil court Judge. He spends his whole working day, and many an evening and weekend, trying to help people redress their wrongs to the greatest extent possible. He impressed on me that I need to do the same for you. I can't return you to your adult male status. And with you being a young girl now, I cannot give you your wife back. My father, the Judge, says that in situations such as this, an effort is made to determine what the real monetary damages are and compensate for those. Additionally, punitive damages are determined based on the maliciousness of the act that caused the harm or the need to teach the offender a lesson. My father is convinced that, in this case, my maliciousness is much greater that I think it is, but he's the Judge, so what he says goes. Sandra has tried to be more than fair in the dissolution, but it was impressed on me that I need to do something as well in an attempt to make right the damage you have received as the result of my actions.

"So, this morning before church, Sandra and I had a very long conversation with my parents about what I should do to address the harm that I have done to you."

"Believe me," Sandra interjected, looking a bit uneasy. "Both of us got an earful, but Tom bore the brunt of it."

Tom put his arm around her and pulled her close. She snuggled into his embrace.

"With Sandra's help and the information that you gave my parents, we've arrived at a settlement proposal of sorts." he paused for a minute to look into Sandra eyes. She gave him an encouraging nod.

"The first part of the proposal is monetary." He continued. "Mom acted as your court representative and pointed out that it would be at least ten years before you will be able to enter the workforce at the level you did when you left college and another ten years until you could reach the level of seniority that you enjoyed when you were let go. Over that 20 years that you have lost, your income would only have increased. Adjusting for inflation and a few generous assumptions, we arrived at a figure of $1.8 million dollars as being the lost future income that you would have received if you had continued unharmed. We used twenty years as the time period since that is how long it will take to get you back to where you were before the changes.

"That's a lot of money!" I exclaim. "I hadn't thought about it in those terms."

He held up his hand, "There's more. You will also have expenses and intangible damages that you would not have had, had things stayed the same. For example, the cost of clothing and accessories for a girl or woman is much greater than for a man. You will also lose the benefit of Sandra's future income to improve your situation in life. It can be reasonably extrapolated that you two would have moved into a much nicer home and neighborhood in the not-too-distant future and you would have enjoyed a much higher standard of living than you did when this all started. That future has been taken away from you unless you are fortunate enough to someday find a partner with similar earning potential to Sandra's or change your profession."

Now there's a thought that somehow had never to that point crossed my radar. Would I ever become a wife? In fact, would I ever date a male?

Sandra noticed the shock on my face and correctly interpreted it. "Yes, Andi, as a girl now I hope that you can someday enjoy the love that I have found twice now." She smiled at Tom and snuggled even closer to him. "It is what I want for my BFF. I want you to find the happiness that the right man can give you."

Finally, an upside to my age regression, I remember thinking. I have years to get used to this idea.

Getting back to the topic, Tom held Sandra close and continued. "The intangibles are impossible to predict and to monetize. So, my mother, as your advocate, proposed that I pay off the mortgage on your condo, or buy it outright and give it to you so that you will always have your own space, should you need it. In addition, she suggested that we offer to adopt you as our daughter and thus become responsible for providing your support through your teen years. That would include the expense of maintaining the condo. As our daughter you would enjoy a much higher standard of living than you have at any other time of your life. You will also continue your close friendship with Sandra, only being her daughter instead of her sister."

This sounded a lot like Grandma Broussard's prophecy.

"I could continue helping you to adapt to your new reality." Sandra said with a smile. "It's been fun so far, and you are a quick learner."

She did have a point there. I had to admit that I enjoyed our long chats and girl lessons and had not been looking forward to losing that when she moved in with Tom.

"Also, by acting as our daughter," Sandra pressed the sale of the idea, "You could stop trying to explain to every stranger that you really are a thirty-two-year-old in disguise. You'd have the cover to just be the young girl you portray. That should make things much easier for you."

That had been another great point. I had found myself just going with people's natural assumptions instead of explaining things at that time. I had had no parents to refer to when people ask to speak to one, which had forced me to try and explain my real age. Not too many people had believed me. It had been getting tiresome. If I were to be adopted by Tom and Sandra, I wouldn't have to explain about my age and emancipation status anymore. I could just go with the flow. I could also start gaining the experiences of a teen girl as I work toward becoming a full fledged woman. There were some real advantages to the plan.

There were some downsides to the adoption proposal. I knew that I would definitely have to restart my life. I would have to restart it as a twelve-year-old girl. That meant going back to school, curfews, and daily watching Sandra and Tom live out the life that I had hoped for Sandra and I. I could be grounded, have my friends vetted by Tom and Sandra, and any number of other parental rights could be exercised over me.

I knew that I would have to think about that part of their proposal, and I told them so.

"Well," Sandra sighed, "You didn't outright reject the adoption option as I thought you would."

"I can see some upsides and downsides to that part of the idea," I responded. "We should talk more about that before I make a decision."

Tom continues his proposition with a frown. "Well, don’t take too long to decide. My parents have given me a deadline of Thursday to reach a settlement with you or they will withdraw support for the wedding. We'd have to postpone the wedding indefinitely if I don't work out a satisfactory agreement with you. We have considered eloping but that would cause irreparable damage to my family relations. And I really do love my family. I also really do want to make restitution to you. But, we’re not through with the settlement proposal.

"My Father, the Judge, insists that I pay punitive damages for the malicious nature of my behavior. I agreed, but not to the level that he and my mother proposed."

Sandra gave him a squeeze. "Don't be such a spoil sport, my love. We can more than afford it."

By then I was more than a little curious. "So, what's the bottom line?"

Tom takes a deep breath and laid it out, "I pay off the condo and give you clear title to it. You will always have a place of your own to go to if things don't work out with us. I will also pay taxes, insurance, condo fees, and utilities on the property until you graduate from high school, again. We find a way to become your parents, by adoption, for the next six years and agree to pay all costs normal to the raising of a teenage daughter. If you decide to go to college to retrain, we will cover all expenses. And we will set up a trust fund with a $4.0 million dollar endowment that will pay out $60,000 dollars a year over the next six years. After six years it will pay out $100,000 per year for another ten years. After that period, you will have full and unencumbered access to the remaining funds."

"Who would manage the trust?" I asked.

Smiling at Sandra, he said to me, "That would be up to you, but I can recommend an excellent investment counselor."

"I think that we should take it out of house, so to speak," I replied dryly. Not that I don't trust Sandra, but I think that mixing family and business is not a good idea. "So, I have until Thursday to consider a counter proposal?"

"The sooner the better," Tom looked worried. "We have that deadline of Thursday to make you happy before things go bad with our wedding plans. The wedding is a little under four weeks away and the invitations were sent out last week."

"I'll see what I can do." I promised him. "I'm sure that we can work something out."

"One last question," I gave Tom a sly grin. "If I do agree to the adoption, do I get to play with your computer center?"

He laughed before replying, "Sure, munchkin. I think that we can arrange that."

"I will have it put in the agreement," my grin got even bigger. I felt a giant burden lift from my shoulders.

 

NotExpected 13

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn "One last question," I grinned at Tom. "If I do agree to the adoption, do I get to play with your computer center?" He laughed before replying, "Sure, munchkin. I think that we can arrange that." "I will have it put in the agreement," I grinned. I felt a big burden lift from my shoulders.

Chapter 13

Sandra walked Tom to the door and they shared a passionate good night kiss before he left.

Sandra came back and had a seat on the couch. We looked at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to start the conversation.

Finally I asked her, in a friendly tone. "Tell me about your trip, girlfriend. Did you get along with your soon-to-be in-laws?"

She frowned, "They were a bit distant when we first arrived. They were polite but I got the distinct impression that they all assumed that I was a gold-digger. I think my reception was worse than when Tom first met my family. I was on the defense all evening having to prove myself. I swear that the whole parish was there for a barbecue and every one of them was there to out me. Tom's parents live in a large mansion and have a huge patio and backyard. It's where the reception will be held. It's a lovely setting.

"There is no way that I will ever be able to keep straight all the names, much less the relations. Everyone wanted to meet me to determine why I was leaving my husband to marry Tom. The prevailing assumption seemed to be that I am only after Tom's wealth and that I had left you so that I could marry Tom. Many of them were openly exploring that possibility. We didn't mention how your changes were the real cause of our dissolution, we just told them that my marriage had become unmanageable and Tom was there to pick up the pieces after you and I had realized that it was over. As a whole, the people of the area are pretty protective of him. I don't know if I was successful in demonstrating my love for him, but I did my best. Tom felt the pressure too and was constantly there to defend me. He put a few of the more pushy ones in their place. It was intense. The pressure eased off as the evening wore on. It was one of the longest evenings of my life.

"I also heard a lot of embarrassing stories about Tom. I swear that he was beet red all evening. I learned a lot about my fiancée that he had yet to share with me."

"Anything juicy?" I ask with interest.

"Just the normal stupid child and teenager stunts," She waved off the question. "It seems that he's always been a geek. Some of the girls he grew up with told me that he was so distracted as a teenager that nothing they did could get his attention. He seemed to scare easily when they came on to him. We haven't talked about it yet, but I think that he might be the oldest virgin in town.

"I felt way out of my league. You and I never hung out in circles like this. The assembled group represented more money and privilege than I have ever seen in one place. I felt like I was being tested all night. I needed to prove myself worthy of Tom to all these people. It was nerve wracking to say the least. I was never so happy to see a party end. When the last guest was finally gone I thanked his parents, gave him a kiss and fled to my room."

"Not ‘our room?’" I asked with raised eyebrows.

She blushed at that. "Just so you know, miss smarty pants, we stayed in separate rooms. His parents are pretty old fashioned and probably would not have let us share a room. Also, as I said, I suspect that he's never spent the night with a woman."

I raised my eyebrow again at that, "I would have thought you two would have given into your lust by now. You've had plenty of opportunity the last couple of months."

She looked at me a little indignantly, "What do you take me for? I have remained faithful to our marriage vows. Tom and I haven't slept together yet. I've only been single for a couple of days now, but with the wedding only a few weeks off, we can wait and do this properly."

I really raised my eyebrow at that. "I figured that when I stepped aside a couple of months ago that you both would give into the lust that you so obviously have. I just thought that you didn't want to share that part of your relationship with me. I'm mildly surprised that you haven't moved in with him already."

"Don't think that we're not tempted." she sighed. "I've been feeling so horny the last few months that I can hardly stand it. I really need some hot sex with the man I love. Tom tried to get me to go home with him tonight. He suggested that I move in with him this week."

"So what's the problem?" I asked. "I don't think that anyone waits anymore."

"Two issues." she explained. "One, if he truly loves me, a few more weeks won't hurt too bad. I didn't tell you, but he tried to get me to move in with him when we got engaged, but I told him that I wouldn't do that while I was still married to you. As I have said, I couldn't go against our marriage vows, no matter what your current form was. I'm still a little angry with him over what his grandmother did to you and feel that he has a large share of the blame. As far as waiting goes, if things hadn't changed, I'd still be happily married to you and Tom would still be alone in his bed. He can stay alone in his bed until the wedding night. He needs to continue to demonstrate that he wants me for more than my body."

"What's the other issue?" I asked.

"You." She replied with another sigh.

"Me?" I asked in astonishment.

"Yes, you." she sighed yet again. "Remember when we were engaged, we both agreed that we'd wait until our wedding night too. Your integrity and consideration really impressed me, even though I probably would have jumped in your bed in a heartbeat. I was very horny then, too. A girl's sex drive really ramps up when she's around that man she loves. You may discover that someday. Now, I want to follow your example. I think that it was the right thing to do then and that it's the right thing to do now. You are my first love and I now love you deeper than I ever have, just in a different way. I feel that I owe it to you to be a good girl until the wedding.

"Not only that, but I like spending time with you and don't want to leave you alone just yet."

I moved over to her side and gave her a tender hug. "Thanks for telling me, Sandra. I still love you deeply and I have to admit that I am a little jealous of Tom. I try not to think about how he will be taking my place in your bed. He is inheriting what was most precious to me and I can't get it back. Don't get me wrong, our new love has brought us even closer together, but it is not what I had planned."

"He won't be taking your place." She said with tears in her eyes. "He can never replace you. I cherish our years together. He will be making his own place in my bed, not taking yours."

We hug for a minute.

"So," I asked once we have ourselves back together, "something must have happened on Saturday."

"Oh, it surely did," she frowned. "When I came down for breakfast, the Judge and his wife were waiting for me at the kitchen table. After some small talk and a bite of breakfast, the three of us went for a walk down to a pond on their property. We sat together on a bench and the inquisition started. Don't get me wrong, they were polite, but they had a definite agenda."

"I got that same feeling when I talked to them," I observed. "I think I can guess the line of questioning, but tell me anyway."

Sandra then proceeded to give me the low down of the interview in great detail. In many ways it was similar to my conversation with the Broussards on the phone. She said that they were polite but standoffish at the start. They wanted to know her life history and asked pointed questions to get it. When she told of our marriage, our inability to have children, what we went through to try they just nodded and asked a few clarifying questions. They wanted to know how she had met their son and what had attracted her to him. They then asked, point blank, if she had left her husband for Tom and a better chance of having children and wealth. She had admitted that she had been very much attracted Tom when she'd first met him, but was still very much committed to her marriage. She told them that Tom had been the pursuer and she'd only relented to his advances when I was no longer able to be a husband to her. They wanted to know what she meant when she said that I could no longer be a husband to her. It became clear at that point that they did not know about our trip to Grandma Broussard, the Judge's mother, so Sandra explained how Tom had set up the meeting and most of what happened at the ceremony. She point out to them that she thought it was all hocus pocus, but then the physical changes began, mine being the most profound. She told them that when I was pronounced to be physically female that we had filed dissolution papers, which had only become final the day before. When she finished her tale, they had both looked at her with astonishment, but being the legal experts that they both were, it became obvious that they needed to hear the story from the other players.

Tom's mother had asked her when she had first slept with Tom. Mrs. Broussard is not one to pull punches. When Sandra told her that they had yet to do so, Tom's mother looked surprised but pleased. Sandra gave the explanation that, until the day before, she had still been married and that she loved her husband and honored the vows that she had made to me. She was also determined to wait until the wedding night to share a bed with Tom. Apparently her demonstration of integrity to our marriage vows greatly increase her stature in the eyes of Tom's parents.

Sandra sighed again. She was doing a lot of that tonight. "His mother asked me if I realized that we had been played by her mother-in-law, and inadvertently by her son. I told her that it did dawn on both of us after it became apparent what was happening. She then asked me why I wanted anything to do with Tom. I told them that I didn't really have a good answer for that. There was strong chemistry between us and that we seem to be perfectly matched. I told them that I was very unhappy with what Grandma did, but felt that Tom's involvement was well intentioned. She destroyed a perfectly good marriage, but on the up side, I now had the closest girlfriend that a woman could have and the promise of an adoring husband who I had come to love deeply. I told them how our love as close friends had blossomed in ways that never could have happened if we remained husband and wife. I also told them how you'd lost your job and couldn't find good replacement employment and how I was worried about your future. I told them how I did the best I could by you in the settlement, but that I feared that it wouldn't be enough. As the discussion wound down, they both hugged me and said that they were satisfied the I'd make a great addition to the family. They also apologized for having to hold the inquisition and that they were impressed with my integrity. They were, however, very unhappy with Tom and Grandma Broussard."

"When we got back to the house, Tom was up and hanging around in the kitchen reading the paper. When he saw the three of us walk in, with stern expressions on his parent's face, he knew that things were about to hit the fan. Without stopping to chat, his father told him that his presence was required in the study and the three of them disappeared for a long time. At one point I heard Tom's raised voice from the study, but it was mostly quiet. Eventually I was asked to join them. They asked me to go over the visit with Grandma again, probably for Tom's benefit. I did, finally, tell him how my nut had been mated with his bolt in the ceremony. When they were satisfied that they had the complete story from us, they asked if they could talk to you, and I gave them your number.

"Oh, and you know that house where we met with Grandma?" She asked.

I nodded in remembrance.

"That's actually the family fishing cabin," she informed me. "In real life, Grandma is very well to do. She and her husband owned the mansion that Tom's parents live in. She moved to a more "modest" estate after her husband died. I had Tom drive me by her house to see if she was there and, let me tell you, it is a substantial estate. She wasn't home either. The pictures of her in Tom's family study show a well dressed and groomed woman of prosperity, not the poverty stricken old lady we met.

"Tom's parents had been wondering why Grandma did not show up for the barbecue Friday night, but now felt that they understood the reason. Needless to say, they are very unhappy with her. Unfortunately she had made herself scarce and no one was able to find her this weekend. It would appear that this is not the first time her magic has messed up people's lives in unexpected ways. The general opinion is, however, that everything works out for the best for everyone in the end. And, yes, she is well known locally for her witchcraft but she is viewed as a benevolent witch."

She went on to tell me how the extended family had been recruited to find Grandma that weekend, without success. She then told me of driving around town to see where Tom had grown up and meeting a number of his old friends. They went to dinner that night with Tom's parents but there was no more discussion about Grandma and what she had done. When they got home, Tom's parents sequestered themselves in the study and did not surface before everyone went to bed for the night.

Early Sunday morning, she had been awoken by soft knocking on her door. It was Tom's mother who requested her company in the Study once she was able to get dressed. She quickly took care of her morning routine, dressed nicely for church, and went to the study. Tom and his parents were there. Tom did not look particularly happy. In the ensuing lecture, Tom's parents made it very clear that they felt that Tom had seriously harmed us and that restitution was necessary to the extent possible. They all seemed to know that Grandma's work was irreversible so moving forward from where we were was the best we can do. They lectured Tom on his upcoming duties as a husband and let it be known that he'd better love and cherish me for the rest of his life, that is if I would still have him, and that he was to show that love through his actions. He was to tear himself away from his geek passions and spend time with his new family. They then spent a lot of time discussing how Tom could make restitution for my losses. They realized that the harm could never truly be compensated for monetarily, but their experience with civil and family law told them that monetary compensation should be a key part of the restitution for the actions of Tom and his grandmother. Sandra told them about my salary and how I were no longer employable at my prior level. Or any level for that matter. Not even a fast food restaurant would employ me. Sandra also told them what my earning potential would have been had I stayed with my job. She also mentioned that, even with a good job, that I would have to rent or sell the condo since it had taken two incomes to make the mortgage and expenses. That's where they came up with the figures that Tom proposed to me that evening. His mother wanted more, but the Judge felt that extraordinary punitive damages were not necessary as Tom was, after being reamed by his parents, very sorry of what he had done and that he was not fully responsible for the outcome of his thoughtlessness. I don't think that Tom had truly understood the depth of the harm he and his grandmother had caused until this weekend. They floated the idea of also making Grandma pay for her part in the plan, but that might be more difficult without full on legal action. The group also discussed how I would adapt until I have grown into an adult body and that's when Tom's mother suggested including me formally in the family. They're not really sure of the legal basis for making it happen, but the concept was agreed to. Tom is the one who volunteered to pay off the mortgage on the condo. He felt that I needed a safe haven if things didn't work out at their house.

"Why the trust fund?" I asked, "I may look like a twelve-year-old, but am really thirty-two and can manage my own money."

"The idea," she explained, "is to provide you money at the rate that you would have earned it. It seemed ill advised to give a twelve-year-old control over $4.0 million."

"Well," I informed her, "I am not your typical twelve-year-old. I have more than enough experience with money to handle it myself."

"Good point," she conceded, "I am sure that condition could be modified."

"Also," I brought up another point. "Why the adoption? Why not a limited power of attorney to act on my behalf on specific issues, like schooling and youth activities?"

"Again," she explained, "What twelve-year-old do you know who is fully emancipated? By adopting you, we present as a family. You also get all the benefits of being a daughter in a very well-to-do household."

"And the restrictions of being a child." I pointed out. "I will have to seek counsel on that one. What else happened today?"

"We went to church," she continued, "and sat in the family pew. Yes, they have a family pew. I've only heard of one before but have never seen one. Afterwards Tom and I met with the priest to go over the plans for the wedding. When it was done, his parents took us to the parish airport to catch our flight home."

"So," I asked with great curiosity, "Tell me about the private jet."

She grinned. "It's the only way to fly. You'll love it when we travel as a family."

After describing the flying experience in detail, she asked me about my weekend.

I had spent Friday evening and Saturday at my parents house. I had come home late afternoon on Sunday. My parents both got home from work on Friday about dinner time and were surprised to see a meal waiting for them. They picked up on my melancholy mood and asked about the court hearings. I sat crying in my mother's embrace for a long time, reminiscing on many of the good memories from my life with Sandra. I felt much better when it was over.

Saturday, I worked with my parents to get the boat ready for launching. Something about physical activity is soothing to the soul. We talked a lot and I cried a lot. I also spent a substantial amount of time on my cell phone chatting with Tom's parents, as we already covered.

When we got home Saturday evening, my mother had pressed me more about the idea of going to middle school. I had continued to be non-committal. The fall semester was still three months away but Mom had already set the stage. She had worked out a plan with an old friend who was the current Principal at a local private school for me to start the seventh grade there in the fall. After the offer from Tom and Sandra, it looked to me like it would be a good way to learn how to be a spoiled little rich girl.

Sunday morning we launched the sailboat and went for a sail before mooring it in its slip at the marina. It had been therapeutic to get out on the water again. Sandra asked if she could join me for a sail sometime soon, just like we used to do. With the crush of wedding preparations, we didn't get out until a couple of weeks after the honeymoon.

Sandra and I spent another half an hour talking about her trip and my weekend before she gave a huge yawn and said that it was past time for her to go to bed. She had to go to work the next day.

Later, after Sandra went to bed, I kept seeing, in my mind, Tom and Sandra standing there together in my entryway. They looked like the stereotypical rich and powerful couple. What I saw was a very well matched team and their love for each other was glaringly evident. I had an epiphany. It came to me that Sandra was not the same woman that I was married to until recently. While she may be the same person in spirit, in reality the physical changes that she has experienced made it difficult for me to see a resemblance to the slightly plain dowdy figure of a woman that had been my wife for so long. While my wife had been a confident woman, the new Sandra was confident to the point of scary. She was a perfect match for Tom. Looking at them I could no longer feel jealous. Instead of an ex-wife, I was looking at a best friend in love with a man who adored her.

It occurred to me that it was as if my wife had died and left me in the care of a good friend.

I felt gratitude in my heart for Sandra's physical changes. Sandra's changes helped me separate my best girlfriend from the love of my life, much like my changes had done the same for her.

----<0>----

Sleep was slow in coming that night. I had too many things to think about.

Foremost on my mind was whether or not to give up my emancipation status. It seemed obvious that, if I wanted to live the way that the world saw me, it would be the only thing to do. Did I want to be a teen again, under the control of parents? Not really. But was it any worse than trying to live as an adult in a twelve-year-old body? Probably not. I really was tired of dealing with people who couldn't understand how a twelve-year-old could be independent. Giving up my emancipation wouldn't be bad if the parents are reasonable. What kind of parents would Tom and Sandra be? What kind of parents would my mother and father be given the circumstances? There were lots of unknowns.

That night, I had also thought about the first time that I went through my teen years. I had been labeled as an under-achiever and I had lived down to the label. While I was not a failure, I had not excelled either. I had certainly squandered the opportunity. The funny thing was that I couldn't really remember what I had done with those years other than float through. My biggest accomplishments, as I remembered, revolved around computer gaming. In hindsight, I didn't see where that was really significant. I had friends, but not close ones. Just other under-achieving misfits who banded together for self preservation. The lecture that I received from my supervisor when I was let go from my job was just a repeat of similar lectures given to me over the years by a series of teachers and my parents. I realized that if I took the opportunity to apply myself this time around, then these changes might actually turn out to be a blessing. It is not often that you get a do over of this magnitude. I realized that it was up to me grab the bull by the horns and bend circumstances to my benefit. This situation had the potential to be one of the greatest blessings of my life. I had hated to admit it, but I remember thinking that maybe Grandma Broussard's magic had inadvertently, or on purpose, given me the greater blessing. While Sandra and Tom were getting each other without going through the pain of a stressful divorce, I was getting a chance to avoid a relationship disaster and really make something of myself without really losing the one that I loved. I would get to erase all my past mistakes and try again. One of the many questions that night was: Could I do it? With the blessing of hindsight, which had not been available to me the first time around, I was pretty sure that I could. I knew that I would have to give up my emancipation to take advantage of this opportunity. It seemed a small price to pay.

The one privilege that I didn't want to give up was driving. I had a car and a valid driver's license. I intended to keep both.

I thought about teen years being where a person starts to learn who they are and their place in the world. Given my new reality, I was going to have to figure out the new me and learn my new place in the world anyway. As the family council emphasized, I needed to start accumulating the experiences that any woman would have. Six more years of middle and high school would definitely do that. Being a dependent minor would put me on the same footing as my new peers and I could discover myself along with a bunch of other teens doing the same thing. I would accumulate experiences that would turn me into an all new adult. Eventually I could become an adult woman with a cache of experiences similar to that possessed by other adult women. I would become one of them. I knew that there would be many challenges along the way, but the idea of of reliving my teen years started to look like a generally positive idea.

I thought of my strong connection to Sandra and wondered how I could maintain that connection if I chose to move in with my parents. Thinking of my few pre-marriage buddies and Sandra's many pre-marriage best friends, it occurred to me that those relationships had drifted apart when Sandra and I married and we focused on developing our own bond. It's not that we weren't still good friends, it's just that the connection was just not as strong as each of us moved on to other priorities. If I were to move in with my parents, I could see that same softening of relations happening to my new relationship with Sandra. I was pretty sure that it wouldn't be too long before we got caught up in life and it would be a challenge to stay connected. I did not want that to happen.

If I moved in with the newlyweds, it was clear that Sandra and I would be seeing each other every day and we would each be in a better position to support one another as life produced its inevitable challenges. It would not be a relationship of equality, but it could be a close knit one. The family bond would connect us for the rest of our lives in ways that no other relationship could. It seemed a fulfillment of Grandma Broussard's prophecy. What kind of parents would Tom and Sandra be? Only time would tell. I realized that I would need a way out if things did not work out at the Broussard household.

The more I thought about the decision, the more I realized that I did not want to leave Sandra. I also knew that, whether I went with my parents or with the happy couple, that I would be committed to reliving my teen years as a dependent minor for the next six years. I knew that I would have to give up some freedoms that I had come to enjoy. By the time that sleep started to creep up on me, becoming Andrea Marie Broussard was looking like an opportunity waiting to be claimed.  It was not the affluence of the Broussard family that attracted me. Wealth was not the deciding factor. It was the opportunity to stay close to Sandra and the chance to do over my teen years. The money wasn't bad, but I knew that I would have been happy with a lot less as long as I could stay connected to Sandra and could fix past mistakes.

Before I went to sleep, I drafted an agreement between Tom and I and emailed it to my lawyer for comment and revision. I left a blank where the dollar amount was to be listed. I had made a few changes to Tom’s proposal. One major change in my version of the agreement was that the endowment was to be an unencumbered lump sum, to be paid before the wedding. I still didn't think there was a valid reason to put it in a trust fund. I also asked her about the pros and cons of becoming Tom and Sandra's daughter via adoption, given my real age. In the email I told my lawyer that we need to work this out by Wednesday afternoon. I don't like to wait until the last minute.

----<0>----

Monday morning I received a call from the lawyer's office requesting that I come in to discuss the matter after lunch. It was an interesting meeting and I walked out with a rewritten agreement which I promptly emailed to Tom and Sandra. I had decided that $4.0 million was too much, and proposed ONLY $3.0 million in compensation. We also proposed that the money be outside the control of Tom and Sandra as my new adoptive parents. My lawyer favored the uncompensated adoption as a way to hold Tom and Sandra responsible for my care and "upbringing" over the next six years until I became physically of age. We added an insistence that there be an exit clause included to the adoption in case things did not work out for all the parties involved. I had asked if I needed involvement from my natural parents, but was told as an adult voluntarily giving up my emancipated rights that it wasn't necessary. My lawyer had offered to handle the adoption, but we had already decided to have Tom's mother deal with it.

Late Monday afternoon I received a call from Tom's mother.

After greetings, she started talking to me about the proposal that I had prepared with my lawyer’s help. Tom had forwarded the proposed agreement to her for comment. It was obvious to her that I'd had legal counsel assist with the agreement.

"Your counselor was wise to insist on the exit clause to the adoption." She observed.

"I thought that it would be necessary," I explained. "After all, I am really thirty-two years of age and don't need to be treated like an inexperienced teen all the time."

Mrs. Broussard agreed with me.

"Honey," she continued, "It is not common in these negotiations for the injured party to negotiate the award amount downward. I think that you should have asked for more than offered. That is what is expected in these kinds of negotiations. Tom can afford it."

"Mrs. Broussard," I replied, "I am not interested in taking him to the cleaners. In fact, I think that $3 million is still asking too much."

"Andi, You do realize that your ex-wife's fiscal situation is going to soon increase to unbelievable heights?" She asked, "It is my opinion that you are entitled to share in the bounty as the injured party. After all, you both shared everything before my family destroyed yours. By the way, Sandra agrees with me on this one. How about we up the award to $5 million?"

"Mrs. Broussard," I countered, "Sandra is not a gold digger and neither am I. Sandra is marrying Tom for love, not money. She can take or leave the money, she just wants him to love and to cherish. I just want to see my best friend happy and I would prefer not to go into poverty to see it happen, so I think that $2 million would be more than sufficient.

This was the oddest financial negotiation that either of us had ever participated in. In the end I sort of won and we agreed to set the final award at $3 million, as I had put into the agreement in the first place. After hanging up the phone, it occurred to me that Mrs. Broussard could have pressed the negotiation a little harder. Maybe, I thought, she wasn't really intent on having Tom pay as much as she said. I was soon to find out that I had arrived at an incorrect conclusion.

Tom came to our, my, condo for dinner that night. Sandra and I worked together to put together a delightful meal. After dinner, we went over the agreement again and they debated the award, but I stuck to my guns. After signing two copies, we scanned and sent digital copies to his parents and my lawyer. Tom promised to transfer the money by the end of the week if I could tell Sandra, as his money manager, where to send it.

Tom's mother started preparing the legal adoption papers the next day so that they would be ready as soon as the happy couple had tied the knot. She made sure that the adoption included an exit strategy and to put my new found wealth outside the reach of my new parents. Given the unusualness of the case, it was decided to get this legal work done in Louisiana where she and her husband could call in a few favors to get it approved quickly. I was soon to become Andrea Marie Broussard.

----<0>----

Tuesday, I visited a large investment firm that was a competitor of Sandra's. I interviewed a couple of investment counselors before selecting a middle age woman with an impressive track record to handle my investments. We set up an account with my current life savings, which wasn't much, and with a promise to add $3 million to that account by Friday. I sent the information for a wire transfer to Tom and Sandra. Friday I received a call from my new investment counselor to inform me that $6 million dollars had been transferred to my account. She wanted to meet with me to discuss investment options.

Sandra just grinned at me when I confronted her about the money while she was dressing for that evening's date with Tom.

I also noted Sandra was wearing some very sexy lingerie as she slipped into her mid-thigh length curve hugging mini dress and I helped with the back zipper. Maybe someone was getting lucky tonight. She just winked at me when I mentioned my observation.

"Not tonight," She grinned evilly, "I am just ramping up the excitement in preparation for the wedding night. It is only 22 days away and counting. This lingerie makes me feel very sexy. When I feel sexy it turns Tom on. Big time. I want him to have the biggest hard on he can produce every day until the wedding. And from what I can tell, that man has a really big penis. If I were a virgin, I'd be scared."

I was the one to blush at that comment. As a man, I had only been average in that area.

I had heard that women were more open about sex when talking amongst themselves. I had been finding that intelligence to be true as the wedding has gotten closer. Sandra had gotten a lot more descriptive about her anticipation as the wedding day drew near. I wondered, at times like this, if Sandra ever remembered that I was once someone other than her best girlfriend.

After Tom picked her up for their date, I went back to my room and stared at the crystal for a long time. It only had the slightest tinge of blue left. I started to wonder if there was a big penis in my future as well. The thought had not entirely repelled me.

Later that evening I had slipped into a rather sexy, for a twelve-year-old girl, short sleeveless cotton nightie and gone to bed. I didn't stay up to greet Sandra when she came home. I put a "Do Not Disturb" sign on my door so that she wouldn't wake me when she returned.

As I lay there in my short nightie waiting for sleep to claim me, I had placed my hand over my flat crotch and wondered, for the first time, what it would be like…

----<0>----

I called my parents and informed them of the settlement the day after we signed the agreement. I asked my mother to enroll me in that private school. She was happy that I had finally committed to going back to school but was disappointed that I wasn't moving in with them.

“Andi,” Mom said, “You know that we have room for you. Are you really sure that you want to watch Sandra make a life with someone else?”

I sighed, “Mom, we’ve been over this. You know that my relationship with Sandra is different now. Living with them will help me to keep our friendship alive. I don’t see her as a former wife, I see her as a best girlfriend who is marrying a wonderful guy. I am happy for her.”

“Are you really?” she asked.

I thought about it a moment.

“Yes,” I replied thoughtfully, “I am happy for her. She’s not the same Sandra that I was married to. She is now the Sandra who is my best friend. I like Tom too.

“Anyway,” I continued, “I love you guys to death, but I am physically about the age of your oldest grandchild. Do you really want to raise another teenager?”

“You are not a teenager,” Mom pointed out. “It would be different.”

“It would be awkward too,” I pointed out. “Everyone would think that you are my grandparents and wonder where my parents are. We'd have to come up with some story as to why I am living with you and not my fictional parents. Not many people would buy the truth. It will be easier to be the adoptive daughter of Tom and Sandra. You could play the role of my birth grandmother. There is no reason that I would have to give up my real family.”

“I think that whatever you do will be awkward,” she countered.

“You are right,” I admitted, then changed the subject. “You and Dad have never met Tom have you?”

“No,” she replied. “Sandra’s mother has been telling me about him. I think that she’s starting to warm up to him. She says that he is polite and totally smitten with Sandra. She also tells me that Sandra is head over heels in love with him. I am not sure that I want to meet the man who stole our daughter-in-law away from us.”

I could tell that mother still wasn’t convinced that all the changes weren’t simply a matter of Tom stealing Sandra from me. It was past time for my parents to see the three of us together.

“I think you should,” I informed her. “If they are going to be my new parents, you should get to know him. Let me see if I can set something up for a dinner on Sunday. Can you make it?”

“Do you think that is wise?” she asked.

“I think that it is necessary,” I told her.

I had talked Tom and Sandra into the idea of dinner with my parents that Sunday. Tom had suggested that we hold the dinner at his house, but I felt that his mansion would be too much for a first meeting with my parents. So Tom and my father grilled steaks on the small patio while nursing bottles of beer in the condo’s backyard while I joined the women in the kitchen preparing the rest of the meal and setting the table. Over dinner, my parents and Tom spent the evening getting to know each other and seeing our new little family in context.

It was glaringly obvious that my parents did not want to be there when they first arrived for Sunday dinner, but by the time the evening was over they were much more relaxed. Dad seemed to warm to Tom faster than my mother did. At Sandra’s insistence, they agreed to attend the Wisconsin reception where they ended up getting to meet and visit with Tom’s parents. At the reception, the Judge and his wife apologized to my parents for Tom taking away their daughter-in-law. It took a while, but Mom eventually warmed up to Tom and admitted that my living with Tom and Sandra was probably the better option. She still wanted to keep in touch with me, a contact that I also wanted to, and did, continue.

NotExpected 14

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn It was glaringly obvious that my parents did not want to be there when they first arrived for Sunday dinner, but by the time the evening was over they were much more relaxed. Dad seemed to warm to Tom faster than my mother did. At Sandra’s insistence, they agreed to attend the Wisconsin reception where they ended up getting to meet and visit with Tom’s parents. At the reception, the Judge and his wife apologized to my parents for Tom taking away their daughter-in-law. It took a while, but Mom eventually warmed up to Tom and admitted that my living with Tom and Sandra was probably the better option. She still wanted to keep in touch with me, a contact that I also wanted to, and did, continue.

Chapter 14

The next three weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity. In terms of wedding planning, this wedding had been a rushed job from the start. As I was the only one without a job, I found myself running all sorts of wedding related errands that the planners were not covering. I also had two parties to work out and final dress fittings to help coordinate for the Bride and her maids.

The wedding shower was held at Tom's mansion on the Saturday two weeks before the wedding. This party was primarily for the bride's friends, but Tom flew his mother and sister up for the party. Tom made himself scarce during the week by taking a quick business trip to Europe to attend some type of prosthetics convention and he delayed his return until Sunday. His is a wise man.

Having never been to a bridal shower, I relied heavily on Sandra’s mother and sisters. We also enlisted the help of Sandra's bridesmaids which included her sisters, a high school friend, and a college roommate. We decided that the shower needed a romantic theme. The large living room was decorated with lots of flowers, hearts, and pink ribbon. The room was more than big enough to accommodate the thirty women who attended. There were pictures of both the Bride and Groom from various stages of their lives strewn about. I made sure to not include any from my life together with Sandra. There were a couple of pictures of Sandra and Tom together. These had been taken in the past couple of months since their engagement. A case of champagne was on hand and was liberally consumed by everyone but me. I nursed one small glass of bubbly throughout the evening. We played a number of silly, and somewhat embarrassing, shower games and opened presents. Embarrassing stories about both the Bride and Groom were liberally shared. The gifts ran from the sensible to the nearly pornographic. As this was a second marriage for Sandra, they had a hard time embarrassing her with graphic depictions of what to expect in the bedroom. I, on the other hand, was in constant blush mode. The women are definitely more open in their conversations about sex than men are. More than once someone would look at me and suggest to the group that maybe this was too much information for young girl. We had to remind them that I am older than I look and am not without bedroom experience. Just not from the feminine perspective. The women all had a good time but tended to ignore the young girl in the room.

Instead of going home that night, I spent my first night in the Princess room. With Tom out of town, Sandra spent her first night in his bed.

The dress fitting had been held that Saturday afternoon and was a new experience for me. It is said that bridesmaids dresses were chosen to purposely make the Bride the center of attention. Just like at our wedding, Sandra picked some rather plain dresses for her wedding party. We were all to wear knee length sleeveless shifts in a cream color that went well with Sandra's exquisite wedding dress. There would be doubt who the star was at the wedding. We had the fitting while Tom's sister was in town for the bridal shower. We were ushered in to a secluded showroom and each handed our dress. The dresses had been made using our provided dimensions. Then all the girls started to undress. Right there in the open room. It only occurred to me after I had stripped down to my underwear that I had never been in the presence of so many underwear clad women outside of a locker room. After a moment's contemplation I mentally shrugged and said to myself: If the panties fit, wear them. I am a girl now and this is apparently normal.

Sandra almost had a melt down over some obscure detail with her dress, so I was kept busy trying to calm her much of the time. The final alterations would be done by the next weekend, just in time for us to leave for the wedding.

As the days are counted down, Sandra's anxiety seemed to increase. She started to micromanage the details. It was getting on my nerves. Since we were still roommates I had to deal with her daily.

The Sunday after the bridal shower, while she was waiting until it was time to meet Tom at the airport, we had a little heart-to-heart discussion.

Sandra was going off about some wedding detail when I couldn't take it anymore.

"Sandra!" I said sharply, getting her attention. I was getting ready to slap her if necessary. "Were you this much of a basket case last time?"

"I am not a basket case," she said indignantly. "I just want everything to be perfect."

"The only thing that really matters," I told her, "is that the two of you say 'I do' when prompted by the priest. The rest is just window dressing. Take a deep breath and let it go. You have me, your mother, your future mother-in-law, your sisters, his sister and two wedding planners going at full tilt. Just relax or you'll make yourself sick. Or worse yet you'll focus so much on what doesn't go according to plan to revel in the celebration of your love. You'll ruin it for yourself, Tom, and everyone else. Have some faith, girl. We know what you want done and we'll do it. When something doesn't go according to plan, don't sweat it. We'll have you covered. And you can focus on your man."

She sighed, "Am I really that bad?"

"Have you ever heard of Bridezilla?" I asked. She nodded affirmatively. "You are in danger of becoming one. It's time to take a deep breath and step back from the brink."

She gives me a hug, "I am sorry. I don't why I'm so nervous. This isn't my first rodeo, so to speak. I just hope that this is the last one. I love Tom so much that I want everything to be perfect for him. I want this to be a day that we can remember fondly for the rest of our lives. Oh, Andi, thanks for the lecture. I suppose that I deserved it. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It will be a day that you always remember," I pointed out dryly as we break our hug. "Do you want to remember it fondly or with regret? The flowers, table layouts, music, food, wine, etc. are not what you'll remember. At least it's not what I remember from our wedding. I doubt that Tom will remember any of those details from this wedding. What I do remember is my heart soaring as I was standing opposite the most special girl in the world in front of the minister on a hilltop. I remember listening to you pledge your love to me until death do us part. In hindsight we should have added something about until gender changes do us part. The party was fun but all I wanted was it to end so that we could get away from all those people to consummate our marriage and begin to build our life together. I don't remember what colors we chose, who sat next to who, a lot of the things that you are stressing about. Tom probably won't remember those details either. Remember that this is Tom’s big day too. If you keep stressing about this you'll spoil it for both of you."

"I'll try," she promised. To her credit, she did a pretty good job of stepping back. I only had to remind her a couple of times as the day drew closer.

-----<0>-----

My visit the gynecologist that week confirmed what I had already figured out on my own. I now had a vaginal opening. As a result, I was introduced to the indignity of a pelvic examination. After poking around down there and examining the ultrasound results for the day, my doctor reported that it seemed that I was almost completely formed. Things weren't quite up to specs yet, but that would be resolved in only a matter of days if things continued to progress at their current rate.

We scheduled the next appointment for two weeks out since I'd be traveling to Louisiana with Tom and Sandra next week for the wedding. The gynecologist suggested that I start carrying tampons or pads with me. She was fully expecting me to experience my first period once the changes were complete. Oh joy!

I went to the department store and bought a bikini to celebrate. After two months of immersion in female culture, I had learned the value of shopping therapy. A bikini also seemed to be symbolic of the near completion of my transformation. What better way to demonstrate that I am female now. Looking in a mirror, I saw that there could be no doubt that I was all girl.

The temperature was in the low 70s, so I spent the afternoon by the condo association pool working on my tan. I felt very exposed wearing my new bikini out in public however I was soon distracted following up with wedding details on my Blackberry and by reading a couple of technical magazines that I had brought out with me. There were other kids around as school was out for the day, but they were mostly older teens and I was ignored.

The sun felt great on my skin.

Tom and Sandra were fixing dinner together when I went home to the condo wearing the bikini with a flimsy cover up.

"Tom," Sandra poked at her fiancé, "It's not nice to stare at your daughter that way."

"Wow," he said in awe, "I didn't realize just how far the changes have affected you, Andi. You're very cute. I think that we'll be beating off the boys very soon."

Sandra poked him again, and smiling at me said, "That's a really nice bikini, Andi. As Tom's expression will tell you, it suits you. When did you get it?"

I sat at the counter and filled them in on my day, including my doctor's visit and shopping trip. We also chatted about the latest in wedding plans. Sandra eventually suggested that I go get more clothes on. It felt like a normal domestic family evening. It felt comfortable.

After Tom left that evening, Sandra loaned me some tampons and gave me a rather graphic description of how they were used. She even had me practice inserting one. She also gave me a couple of pads and panty liners, which were to be my new friends, to carry in my purse. She went with me to purchase my own stock of feminine hygiene products after the next day's workout at the gym. It was embarrassing.

There was only a faint hint of blue left in the predominately pink crystal.

----<0>----

The following day, I had no particular plans to go anywhere, so decided to spend the afternoon by the pool working on my tan and catch up on some reading. The plan was to read a number of computer magazines that I hadn’t gotten to yet.

Our condominium complex caters mostly to young professionals, like Sandra and I, and there were not a lot of kids about. But there were a few. It was the first week of June and school was not out for the year quite yet, but it would be very soon.

I had been at the pool by myself late in the afternoon after school had let out for the day when a young girl about my own apparent age came in, introduced herself as Kelley and asked if she could lay on the lounger next to me. She dropped her cover up to reveal a one piece swimsuit before stretching out on the lounger. She had a few teen magazines and some sunscreen with her. Eventually other teens and young children with their mothers or nannies filtered in to enjoy the pool.

"I saw you out here from our condo when I got home from school," Kelley pointed to a nearby unit. "I saw you out here yesterday too, but my mom wouldn't let me come out because I had too much homework to do. My parents just bought the condo across the street and we moved in a month ago. I think I've seen you around with your mom but haven't had an opportunity to introduce myself yet. Your mom looks like a supermodel and you look a lot like a younger version of her. She seems too young to be your mother. Don't you hope that you get her looks? I saw you drive by in that cute car the other day. Won’t you get in trouble for driving your mom's car? You are too young to drive. Your mother lets you come to the pool by yourself? Isn't that unsafe? My mom only let me come today because I told her that you were out here by yourself and I promised that I would be keeping company with you. I haven't seen you on the bus. Don't you go to school?"

Kelley can get a lot out in one shot.

I still had the problem of how to integrate with my new peer group and it appeared as if the solution had just presented itself. The problem now was, do I go with her perception or do I tell her that I'm older than I look?

I had decided to see what pretending to be a young girl was like and see if I could make friends with a peer. I would be in school next fall, so I figured that I might as well get started on my girl assimilation.

I smiled at her, "I'm fairly new here too." As a young girl anyway, I thought to myself. "We decided to homeschool to the end of the year since we'll be moving soon anyway." Only a little white lie.

"Oh," she sounded disappointed, "I was wondering why I never see you on the bus or at school. I hate being the new girl all the time. Especially right at the end of the school year. My Dad was military and we moved every few years. He just got out and decided that we needed to move closer to family. Both Mom and Dad are from this area. Why are you're moving?"

"My mom is getting remarried in ten days,“ I informed her, “and we'll be moving in with her new husband when they get back from their honeymoon."

"Does he live nearby?" She asked.

"Not too close," I said, "He lives in a big house just north of town."

"That sounds nice," she sighed. "I wish we could settle down in a big house in the country. Are there horses? Will you be going to the same school as me? Will you have your own pool?"

My head spun at the rapid sequence of questions. I wondered if all girls are like this. I was soon to find out, that teen girls can talk rapidly and carry several threads of conversation at the same time without dropping a thought.

"I think that I will going to go to a private school next year," I mentioned, "He doesn't have any horses that I know of, but maybe I can get him to buy me one. There are actually two pools, one indoors and one out. How about you? Where did you move from?"

Over the next half hour I learned that they had just come from Japan where her father had been stationed as an air force doctor. She loved animals, particularly horses, chocolate ice cream, Taylor Swift, the color lavender, was also going into seventh grade the next year, and a myriad of other details. I tried to keep up and add similar things to the parallel conversations, but it soon became apparent that I was a novice at preteen girl gossip while Kelley was a pro.

Fortunately, two other twelve-year-old girls, Susie and Jenny, showed up. Kelley knows both from her short time at school so she invited them to join us. They also lived in our condo development. The three of them went at it a mile a minute and I tried to keep up, answering questions as they were put to me. I wasn't holding up my end of the conversation at all. Fortunately, the other two girls were lifelong residents of the area and they were happy to share their insights with Kelley and me.

After an hour of non-stop chatter, my brain was in a fog, so I excused myself and retreated to the condo on the excuse that I had to meet my "mom" at the gym. I started to get worried about jumping into seventh grade. I was going to have to figure out how that culture really worked and it appeared to be more complex that I had been expecting. I made a quick run to the local video store and picked up a number of teen girl movies on my way to the gym in a vain hope of getting an education. I knew that girls were more intense than guys, but I never realized just how intense they can be until I tried participating in this afternoon's conversation with three peer experts.

When I related my experience to Sandra as we worked out, she just grinned again. "You have a lot to learn, sweetie. Why don't you invite Kelley over to watch some of those movies with you while I'm out with Tom tonight. She might help you to understand them better."

Kelley had given me her phone number, so I called her when we got home to see if she wanted to come watch movies that evening while my "mom" was out with her fiancé. She was over almost immediately after her parents talked with Sandra to make sure that it was alright with her. I think that Kelley was looking for another new friend. We had to be done early because it was a school night so we only watched one film.

Kelley had kept a running commentary going about what she thought was real and what was fake about the situations presented in the movie. I tried to act like I knew what was going on by making a few comments of my own. Kelley would often look at me funny when I was apparently obviously misinterpreting what was going on in the film. It was a very educational evening.

During the movie we spent time doing some of the same girly things that I had been doing with Sandra and the girls in our families in recent months. I put her rather long blonde hair into a fancy French braid that she really adored. She fussed a bit with my much shorter hair but there wasn’t much we could do with it. The foundation of what was to be a long friendship was established that evening.

Next thing I knew, I had agreed to go over to her house for a sleepover the next Friday night for a repeat of the evening's activities. She invited Jenny and Susie too. This sleepover was much more successful that the last one I had attended at my niece's house. I was treated as one of the girls. It was nerve wracking trying to act like an authentic twelve-year-old girl.

-----<0>-----

Kelley and I ended up spending quite a bit of time together over the next few days, either at her house, mine, or the pool. Susie and/or Jenny would occasionally join us as they were able. I have to admit that it was fun and enlightening. I even started to get a handle on understanding girl speak, but I had a long way to go to become proficient at speaking it. Kelley, without really knowing it, was turning out to be a good mentor.

Kelley was fascinated with my ongoing work on the wedding plans and wanted to help. I couldn’t think of anything for her to do as everything was in its final stages and under control, more or less.

When my mother found out about my new friends, she said that it was a step in the right direction and encouraged me to keep it up. She was pleased that I’d found a way to connect with my age group. She said that it would make things easier when I started school in the fall.

It turns out that the three girls would start attending the middle school that mom is principal of in the fall. It wasn't long before I started to reevaluate the decision to attend the private school. The girls all wanted me to join them at my mother's public middle school.

-----<0>-----

The wedding clock continued to tick by. On the Sunday before the wedding, Sandra and I spent the entire afternoon going through her wardrobe, choosing items for the upcoming trip to Louisiana and the honeymoon. She agonized over every item and we discussed, endlessly, what she might need for various occasions. She wanted my former male perspective on what looked nice and what I thought that she should wear under it to seduce Tom. She had been ramping up the sexual tension and planned to hit him full force with as much sex appeal as she could muster on their wedding day and on the honeymoon. The woman was obviously very sexually frustrated and was looking for all the action she could get out of her man.

She had done similar things in the build up to our wedding ten years earlier. By the time the big day arrived, I was more than ready to satisfy the lady. Somewhere deep inside me, where some small amount of blue still remained, I vaguely wished that this was all for me.

At the same time, the overwhelming pink in me wistfully dreamed of my own big day.

Packing for the honeymoon was a little tricky. We knew what she needed in the bedroom (not much!) but the destination was unknown. Soon after they got formally engaged Tom had asked her where she'd like to go for the honeymoon. As it was cold in Wisconsin at the time, she had promptly said that she'd like to go somewhere warm with lots of sandy beaches. He smiled and said that he would make that happen. He was successful in keeping the destination a secret right up until they left the reception, but he had promised her that the location fit her wishes. So, another trip to the department store found her the possessor of a very skimpy bikini and a see through cover up. I had hoped that the beach is private. I had made sure to slip a bottle of sunscreen into her suitcase.

We also spent time trying to decide what I should take on the trip. I was only going to be gone for five days, but I still ended up with a good sized suitcase to take.

When we had thought we were done, there were three huge suitcases, one of which was mine, lined up by the front door to our condo and her wedding dress was hanging in the hall closet. Monday was her last day at work before the wedding. She would not be back for three weeks since the couple had a two week honeymoon planned. When she arrived home from work that day, she had second thoughts about her wardrobe selections and we took the cases back to her room and started over again. After everything was repacked and lined up the door again, she started to rethink the packing once more. I had given her the evil eye and made her walk away from her cases.

On Tuesday Tom had picked us up and we were soon on board a corporate jet heading to Louisiana. The rest of Sandra's family and friends would be finding their way to the backwoods of Louisiana on their own, though Tom was picking up the tab for commercial travel for Sandra's family. He was also picking up the tab for two floors of a Marriott hotel about half an hour away from his hometown for Sandra's friends and family.

When we arrived at his parent's house late Tuesday, the place looked like a war zone. There were piles of equipment everywhere. A small group of workers was erecting a circus tent in the backyard where the reception dinner party was going to be held. It was huge. I guess that it needed to be for the 400 guests that had been invited. A portable dance floor was to be installed in the middle of the tent. This was a BIG production.

Sandra and I were given a room well away from Tom's. We would be sharing a room until the wedding so that I could assist her as needed.

I was formally introduced to the Judge and, after dinner, the Judge and his wife invited me into their Study. It seemed that the Study is where all the business happens. Sandra gave me a worried look as I wandered off with Tom's parents.

Once we were settled, Tom's mother opened the conversation, "Andi, we have a hard time imagining you as a man. I saw nothing male in you at the bridal shower. All we can see is a darling looking little girl who looks a lot like a younger version of Sandra. Regardless, I feel that I know the mature person from our telephone chats. We just want to see how you are holding up. This must be hard for you."

The Judge nodded in agreement.

"I'm okay," I said, "mostly.  My family, friends, and Sandra have worked hard to help me adjust to my new reality. Sandra has also changed. She is no longer the woman who had been my wife. Instead she is my best friend and I am happy for her. I still wish that I could rewind the clock nine months and undo our visit to Grandma Broussard. Even though our relationship was strained, Sandra and I had a good thing going. But I can't do that and what is done is done. Under the circumstances, I am extremely pleased that my best friend and former sweetheart has found joy in her new relationship and hope that it brings her the joy that I could not give her. And right now, I can't wait until she's off on her honeymoon. She's driving me around the bend."

They both smiled at that. The Judge commented with a smile, "We noticed that she's a bit wound up."

"That's an understatement, if I ever heard one," I commented dryly.

"By the way," I gave them my best glare, but I suspect that it didn't look all that threatening coming from a twelve-year-old, "I have a bone to pick with someone. Tom and Sandra only grinned at me when I try to get them to talk to me about the extra $3 million in my investment account. Did you put him up to it?"

They look at each other briefly before grinning at me and saying "No comment" in unison.

For the next half an hour they probed me about my feelings and future plans. I asked them a lot of questions about Grandma Broussard.

It appears that Grandma resurfaced after Tom and Sandra's visit and the Judge gave her an earful. According to Tom's mother, Grandma took it calmly and said that everything would work out to everyone's benefit. She was confident that time would prove her right. No amount of reason would get her to admit that she'd harmed Sandra and me. When the Judge pointed out that she should also be compensating me for my loss, she apparently said that she already had. It would take time for me to realize it. None of us knew what she meant by that. Grandma also told them that she'd not be talking with me or Sandra or Tom until the nine months was over on Saturday.

When the meeting broke up, I think that a friendship had started. The Judge shook my hand and I got a great hug from his wife.

"Welcome to the family," Mrs. Broussard said as she hugged me. "We are twice blessed by having a wonderful new daughter-in-law and a beautiful young lady joining our family."

That night, as we got ready for bed, Sandra asked me how the interview went. She had been worried that the Broussards would grill me again. I reassured her that all was well and I filled her in on our conversation.

----<0>----

The next three days were a tornado of activity. I stayed by Sandra's side through most of it.

Wednesday we went to the Courthouse and the happy couple got the marriage license.

Thursday included a last minute meeting with the wedding planner and caterers for the rehearsal dinner and reception. There was the meeting with the Priest for final coordination of the ceremony. We also met with the florists to make sure that all was on track for the arrangements at the church and reception. Sandra and I got a sneak peek at the bouquet. It was huge and it was gorgeous, like everything else associated with this wedding. After dinner, Tom and Sandra went to sit by the pond and talk while I sat and visited with various members of Tom's family as they filtered through the house. I was starting to think that Sandra was marrying into a great family. She will fit in nicely.

Friday, Tom went off to do whatever business he had to do. Sandra and I moved to the hotel where her family and friends were gathering. We had rented out the hotel bar for that evening's bachelorette party so I spent time with the staff finalizing the details for that event. By lunch time, all the bridesmaids had arrived and we met in a staging room to make sure that all our dresses and accessories were in order. Several hair stylists would be showing up early Saturday morning to make sure that our hair and makeup were perfect for the main event.

Four PM found us all at the church, rehearsing the ceremony with the priest. That went off without a hitch.

The rehearsal dinner was held at the hotel where several meeting rooms had been combined into a big banquet room. Sandra's parents and Tom's parents spent much of the time becoming acquainted and sharing stories of their respective children. There were a few speeches and wishes for happiness to the lovely couple. I saw Grandma Broussard there and tried to connect with her, but things kept getting in the way. She did smile at me from across the room once when I glared at her, but that was the only communication we had.

Eventually, the bridesmaids and groomsmen told the couple to kiss good night before we whisked them away to their respective bachelor parties. They would next see each other at the church.

Typically bachelorette parties are held sooner than the night before the wedding so that the bride does not show up hung-over for the wedding. We chose to have it at the last minute since there were invitees from both sides of the new family and that is when everyone could be there. This meant that I, as the hostess, had to ride herd on Sandra to make sure that no one got her drunk. It was a challenge.

The first challenge, it turned out, was getting me into the party. The bartender asked me to leave on the grounds that underage children were not allowed in the bar. When I showed him my ID, he confiscated it stating that this was the most blatant use of a fake ID that he had ever seen. He said that he would turn it over to the police if I didn't leave. I was hopping mad. I let him know that I'm the one paying for the party, I was of age, the Maid of Honor, and was going to stay. When Sandra saw me in a heated argument with the bartender she came over to see what the issue was. The bartender didn't believe her either. Our argument was getting attention from the other party goers. Fortunately we had invited the mothers of the couple to the party and Mrs. Broussard came to my rescue. After a few well placed phone calls and a visit from the night manager, the bartender backed off. He also gave me my ID back. He glared at me all night. I smirked at him while nursing one glass of champagne for the night. He did not get much of a tip from me.

The bridesmaids and I each gave a little speech about how special Sandra was then opened the mike for other comments. I have to say, I didn't realize how crude a bunch of slightly drunk young women can be. The presence of the mothers kept things toned down a bit, but when they left around 9:00 pm, things started to get raunchy. We had karaoke, and each of the bridesmaids led a party game. Things were still going strong when I dragged Sandra back to our room so that she could get some sleep before her big day. Of course she had to hug and thank each woman individually before we left. It was a bit after 10:30 PM when I finally got her tucked into bed and I fell exhausted into mine.

----<0>----

Sensing motion in the room, I woke at 3:30 AM to see Sandra standing at the window with her robe clutched around her. She was just staring out the window with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Slipping out of bed, I stepped up beside her, put my arm around her waist and laid my head against her shoulder. She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. With a seven inch height difference, I'm sure that we looked more like mother and daughter than best friends.

We just stood there together for a while before she finally spoke.

"How did we get here, Andrew?" She sobbed quietly.

She didn't use my full name often, and never my former male name anymore.

I gave her a squeeze as I replied, "Grandma Broussard."

"She might have helped," Sandra admitted, "but none of this would have happened if I hadn't been so obsessed with having a baby."

I didn't reply.

After a few minutes, she continued, "I woke a while ago and watched you sleep. I know that my first love is somewhere inside the lovely girl that has become my best friend. I just don't see him. It really does feel as if Andrew has died or disappeared and I miss him terribly. As I watched you, I reflected on how much I am to blame for ruining your life. You should hate me, yet you have been my rock over the past couple of months as I have prepared to marry another man. I don't understand how you can do that. Today should be a celebration of our tenth anniversary, but I am marrying another man instead. How can you not hate me! When I came to look out the window, all the good times we've had over the years started to pass through my mind. You have always been there for me and I was there for you. We were a good team. I feel so bad for having let you down and my heart aches. I am a terrible person for loving Tom when I should still be married to you."

We continued standing there, staring out the window together. We were both silently crying.

Finally, I replied, "You are not a bad person, Sandra. And Tom is a great guy. You and I are both victims, but we don't have to be. We can take what has been done to us and turn it into something positive and wonderful. You are doing the right thing, given the circumstances. Neither one of us are the same person that we were nine months ago. There is no way that I can be a husband to you now. You know that. I know that. Tom knows that. I will always cherish the time that we had together and hope for many more wonderful times together in the future, only different. Now it is time for you to start building happy memories with Tom. I may be your best girlfriend, but now you need to put Tom on the pedestal reserved for your very best friend. Your marriage won't work if you don't. Grandma Broussard has, in a twisted way, given me a gift too. I still have you in my life and I have a chance to go back and not repeat some of the mistakes of my teen years. I need to live life more fully than I did as a geeky kid twenty years ago. I need to be more like you. Hopefully, if I can be more like you, I will find a companion like Tom to love me and with whom I can stand as we face the world together, like you and Tom are about to do. Like what you and I tried to do, without great success. I think that we both have to finally admit that our relationship was heading for the rocks before all this happened. Things are working out well for both of us now. I will to be there to watch your happiness grow and to be your sounding board when you need it. You will be there when I need the same."

She gave me a squeeze, "You can count on me, Andi. Thanks for being my rock." She wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I love you, Sandra," I whispered.

"I love you too, Andi," She whispered back as we turn to hug each other.

We moved the room's couch so that we could sit together while we continued to stare out the window as the night slumbered on.

A sense of peace settle on both of us as we silently sat together, each with her own thoughts.

NotExpected 15

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn She gave me a squeeze, "You can count on me, Andi. Thanks for being my rock." She wipes the tears from her eyes. "I love you, Sandra," I whispered. "I love you too, Andi," She whispered back as we turn to hug each other. We moved the room's couch so that we could sit together while we continued to stare out the window as the night slumbered on. A sense of peace settle on both of us as we silently sat together, each with her own thoughts.

Chapter 15

When the wake up call came at 6:30 AM, I woke with my head on Sandra's lap. She was stroking my hair and still gazing out the window.

That was the last peaceful moment of the day.

First off, I felt a dampness in my underwear. On investigation, there was a spot of blood. It was the onset of my very first period. When I showed Sandra the problem, she grinned and welcomed me to the world of women. I dug the crystal out of my luggage only to find it uniformly pink. There wasn’t a hint of blue. I then knew that the process is complete. It had been nine months to the day since the visit to Grandma Broussard.

I didn't have time to dwell on this new development. We had a wedding to pull off. A BIG wedding.

I still don't understand big weddings. They are a lot of work, just so that two people can commit, before the world, to being one in mind and purpose and forever true to each other. A marriage is just as valid without the window dressing as it is with it. I guess that it is a big celebration of sorts, and we all need a good celebration from time to time, but I can do that in the backyard with a grill, a cooler full of drinks, and tables to put food on.

With that said, a well done big wedding is a beautiful thing to behold. And this wedding was right up there with Royal weddings.

After quick showers, we went down to meet the bridesmaids and hair stylists. We spent the next two hours getting beautiful. After they were done with me, I paused briefly to examine myself in one of the many full length mirrors. A very cute girl stared back. She had piercing blue eyes and short dark hair with a garland of spring flowers on her head. We'd gotten my ears pierced about six weeks earlier so the cute girl had diamond teardrop earrings and a diamond pendant strung around her neck. The knee length cream sheath hid the fact that her curves were just getting started. The small A cup breasts were appropriate to her age. Her long slender neck held up a pretty heart shaped face with a button nose. Slender arms and delicate hands were held up for examination. With the make up, white tights, and two inch heels the girl in the mirror looked to be about fourteen. The thought had crossed my mind that this was me now. My future was going to be different than anything I had dreamed of only nine months earlier.

I had looked across the room to where Sandra's mother was helping to put the final touches together for the absolutely gorgeous bride. Unbidden I had found myself wistfully hoping that I could be in her position some day.

Then I had felt another abdominal cramp and realized that being a woman wasn't all sugar and spice.

By nine thirty, we were informed that the limos had arrived to take us to the church and we all helped Sandra fight her voluminous dress into the vehicle. Sandra, her mother, and I were in the second limo. The other bridesmaids gently entered the other and we were off.

The last stragglers were still outside the church when we pulled up outside. Upon seeing the limos, the groomsmen, acting as ushers, shooed everyone into the building before we were allowed to exit the cars. Only Sandra's father and a cute little guy in a tux, the ring bearer, were left outside.

Being extremely careful not to damage dresses and make up, we had all assembled in the foyer of the church. Sandra looked radiant. When all was ready, the organist was cued and the music started. Each of the groomsmen offered an arm to the appropriate bridesmaid and started down the aisle. I followed alone, with the ring bearer and flower girl behind me. I could see Tom and his best man standing confidently at the altar. As we took our places at the front of the church the wedding march started and everyone stood. It was hard to fight back the tears as I watched the most beautiful bride I've ever seen being escorted down the aisle by her father. She only had eyes for Tom and he for her. You could feel the intense love in the air. I tried real hard to not compare this with our wedding ceremony. I wanted to be happy for Sandra and Tom. It was surprisingly difficult, given that I had been at peace with the proceedings.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to pass me by in a fog. It seemed only moments later that I was handing Sandra back her bouquet and adjusting her train for the recessional. I then found myself following the newly weds back down the aisle with the rest of the wedding party. It was beautiful, but it was harder than I was expecting.

After Tom and Sandra signed the register and the marriage license was completed we spent an hour with a photographer posing for the wedding photos.

After the photos, we had a couple of hours to kill before the before the reception at the Broussard mansion. I found my emotions to be all over the place and I had just wanted to find a nice place to hide for a while so that I could have a good cry.

That wasn't to be.

After the couple had left the church, I was looking for my ride back to the hotel, after having just refreshed my feminine protection in the nearest bathroom, when I ran into Grandma Broussard.

I had groaned to myself when I saw her. All I wanted to do was go back to the hotel to see if a hot bath would help my uncomfortable abdomen. I had a feeling that wouldn't be happening now.

"Hello, Andi," she smiled at me, "do you have some time to chat with an old woman?"

I snorted. "Don't play the helpless poor old woman with me. I fell for it once, I won't do it again."

She nodded knowingly. "You are right my dear. I have found that people are more likely to put stock in the magic with such an act. It is such an unfortunate stereotype. Regardless, it is time for us to talk again. I sense that you are starting to understand what happened but we should talk about it."

I gave a sigh, "I should be really mad a you, Mrs. Broussard."

She waved at a park bench on the far side of the church grounds. "Maybe we should go sit and chat. I think that you will feel better if we do. You might also be able to clear up some of my questions as well."

She patted me on the shoulder as we walked to the bench, "You'll learn to deal with the discomfort and emotional swings, dear. All women do. It is normal to feel irritable and depressed during your time of the month. You will also find yourself crying for no reason, like you want to do right now. Given you emotional state, this might not be the best time to chat, but you have to learn to rise above it. Don't let your period cloud your judgment."

The woman was very observant.

When we were seated, she said, "They make a great couple, don't they?"

I tried to glared at her before responding. I don't think that there was real conviction behind the glare. "They do, but this shouldn't be happening. "

Looking me intently in the eye, she asked. "Why is that?"

I noticed that the thick southern accent has disappeared. She sounds much more cultured, having a more refined southern accent than when Sandra and I first met her.

"Because, on the surface, everything was good between Sandra and I," I replied with a touch of bitterness. I was feeling very irritable. I intentionally ignored the fact that I knew that Sandra and I were on the verge of serious problems when we had visited her. Looking back, I am sure that I was letting my hormones get the better of me. "We had a good marriage and we were making our way in the world together. We came to you for help and you and Tom destroyed what we had instead."

"Did we really my young friend?" She asked me "Think hard about that. Compare then and now. What do you see?"

I wanted to hate the woman, but couldn't. Not after I had realized what a blessing this situation had become. "Nine months ago, I was a man happily married to the love of my life. Things were good. Sure, we had struggles. But what married couple doesn't? Today I am divorced, a new gender, twenty years younger, and just helped the love of my life marry another man who is wealthier and better looking than I ever would have been. It would appear that, as a result of meeting with you, everything I have ever hoped for myself has collapsed before my eyes."

"That's a rather depressing comparison, dear," she smiled, "and I don't think that you really believe it. Perhaps you could try again. This time look at it from the positive side."

I thought for a minute about the conversation I had with Sandra in the night. I thought about where we were nine months ago. I thought about where we were now. I thought about where Sandra and I might have been had things not changed. It was a lot to sort out.

Grandma waited patiently while I reflected on my predicament.

Starting again, I quit trying to hate the woman, "Nine months ago I was married to the love of my life, but she was very sad and it as eating at our marriage. I had hoped that she'd finally accept the cards that we'd been dealt and put her sadness behind her. Our visit to you was going to be the last time we would seek help having a baby. We had hoped that you would help US have a child. I had given up, but I think that Sandra was hanging on to this last hope."

"What do you think would have happened to your marriage if no baby came?" She gently asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "When you met with us you predicted that the desire for a baby that would never come would eat away at our marriage. You said that the best that we could hope for is to be two good friends supporting each other through life without the fullness of joy that a family brings."

"I did say something like that," Grandma recalled. "I have seen it happen many times. It is heartbreaking to watch. Did Tom ever tell you what my profession was?"

"Besides being a witch," I snorted, "No, he didn't."

"I was a marriage counselor," She said, ignoring the witch comment. "I worked with many troubled couples over the years. I was not always successful in helping them. The saddest cases were marriages that were strained due to circumstances outside of the couple's control. Things like infertility or the loss of a child. I watched too many marriages disintegrate under the pressure. From your answers to my questions, I was very sure that the same was happening to your marriage. It was early stages, but there would have been a painful, slow disintegration. There was no magic involved in that prediction, just decades of experience helping struggling couples. If things were left to continue as they were, you MIGHT have stayed friends, but it was unlikely. Friendship would have been the best that you could have hoped for. It would be a very sad friendship. I believe that the reason the magic asked for the mismatched nut and bolt was to represent that, while you were technically joined, your relationship was becoming tentative and would soon be dysfunctional."

I sighed as I considered her statement, "You might be right, but we were hoping that we could rebuild our joy after accepting our fate if no baby came."

"It would have been a noble and difficult effort," she replied. "You might have succeeded, but the odds were very much against it. Both you and Sandra are extraordinary people so you had a chance at making it work. A very slim chance. But if you had, there would always be that deep sadness shadowing your relationship and impacting everything else you did in life."

"Have you used magic to help your practice?" I asked.

"Rarely," she admitted, "I only did when I got a feeling that it might work to the advantage of everyone involved. The magic is fickle and I don't control it. I am more of a conduit. The results were often unpredictable, but the end always resulted in the participants finding peace and happiness, like you eventually will. The magic I represent is benevolent and only works to bring peace and happiness to those who seek it.  Sandra has found happiness and is finding peace now."

"Not if there isn't a baby soon," I pointed out.

Grandma smiled, "Oh, I am pretty sure that they are working on that as we speak. Sandra will have conceived before the reception tonight."

"Is that the marriage counselor's guess," I asked with a raised eyebrow, "or the witch's knowledge?"

"It is the insight that I have been given," She replies cryptically with a gentle smile.

Continuing she asked, "We've established where you were nine months ago and the likely outcome without my help. What do you see about the current situation? What has my ‘interference’ resulted in?"

"The most obvious is that I have changed gender and regressed in physical age," I mentioned.

"Yes," she said, "that was most unexpected. I have never seen that happen before. I was expecting that a path to overcoming your infertility would be revealed. Instead, the magic of the ceremony told me that Sandra would be the answer to Tom’s singleness and that Tom would be the answer to her childlessness."

"All at my expense," I said, pointing to myself. "So why did it turn out this way?"

"I really don't know," she sighed. "As I said, I have never seen this solution before. The magic also told me that you would gain the most from the ceremony. Do you have any ideas on why the magic thinks that this was a good idea? I have my guesses, but I have not figured that one out yet."

"Assuming that the goal was for our love as friends to grow but not as husband and wife," I said thoughtfully, "the gender change makes sense. My becoming female definitely ended the marriage and opened the door for today’s wedding without destroying my closeness to Sandra. My being a woman would make it so that my relationship with Sandra would not interfere with her new marriage. Like or not, neither Sandra nor I are interested in same sex marriage. A same sex marriage would not alleviate Sandra's desire to get pregnant within the bonds of a loving relationship. So, that meant that there needed to be another man and Tom was conveniently available. I don't think that magic was responsible for their attraction to each other. While Sandra was doing a good job of resisting the attraction, it probably would have grown as our relationship declined. Sandra was doomed to conflicted feelings regardless of what happened. I think that fate had a lot to do with bringing them together."

"I agree with you," she smiled. "The magic doesn't change the heart. In hind sight, I have come to think that Tom would have eventually married Sandra with or without the magic. It just would have taken longer and been more painful. Sandra's ethics would have meant that your marriage needed to end before Tom could step in to pick up the pieces. Tom's ethics would have kept him from intentionally interfering until the marriage died a natural death. It would have been a painful end and, even with a marriage to Tom, both of you would have carried a heavy burden of sadness and regret for the rest of your lives. You would have suffered the worst without someone to help you pick up the pieces of your failed marriage. I am starting to see how things are better the way they turned out.

"You said that your are not interested in a same sex marriage?" she changed the subject.

"Yes," I sheepishly admitted, "My interest in girls was pretty much gone by Christmas, and if last night is any indicator, I am starting to be more attracted to boys than girls. At the dinner last night, I was finding some of Tom's nephews to be kind of cute. I suspect that as I continue to grow up as a girl, that my new hormones will only make that attraction greater."

I sighed, "I just hope that I don't become boy crazy."

Grandma smiled at that, and patted my knee, "I think that almost all teen girls are a bit boy crazy at some point, whether or not they want to admit it. It goes with the hormonal changes that take place during puberty. It is the natural course of things."

I had groaned at that bit of information, "I really hope not."

She smiled at me and gave my hand a squeeze. "You will survive it, dear. Most of us do. I am pretty sure that the magic made you a complete female in everyway, even to physically reforming your brain to match that of a typical naturally born female of your apparent age so this development is not a surprise."

"What about the age regression?" She continued. "I am most confused about the reasons for that."

"I had a hard time understanding that one for a long time," I admitted, "But I think that I can see it now. What better way to maintain close contact with Sandra than to be her child? We will be together daily and it will not interfere with her new marriage. The family connection will enable us to stay very close throughout our lives. From what I've seen, mother-daughter relationships can be intense and last a lifetime. I needed to be just old enough to be a companion instead of ward, so just entering teen years makes since. Imagine the awkwardness that would exist if I moved in with the happy couple as a thirty-two-year-old woman.

"When we married, Sandra's relationship with her best girlfriend at the time changed because they did not spend so much time together anymore. Eventually their relationship became a bit more distant, though they remain friends to this day. In fact, she was one of the bridesmaids. I think that she was a little put out that she wasn't asked to be the Maid-of-Honor this time around. Being a young girl and part of the family is probably the only possible way that Sandra and I will stay close after her marriage to Tom."

"Good point," she concedes. "this makes sense. Are there any other benefits to the age regression? It seems like an extreme measure to just keep you close to Sandra."

"It keeps coming to me," I tell her, "that the greatest gift of the age regression is the chance to start over again. Just changing gender would not have done that. I needed to restart my life where the decisions have the most impact.

"You pointed out, when we first met you, that I was operating below my potential. The coarse threaded bolt was a good representation - I was not willing to put in the effort to excel, to be like a fine threaded bolt. Your observation was very true. All my life, I have been told the same thing. I was comfortable just getting by and taking a supportive role in our marriage. Sandra was the real driving force in our relationship. I think that my lack of ambition was also a thorn in Sandra's side and contributed, in some measure, to the friction within our marriage. I now wonder if my lack of ambition could also have eventually led to a failed marriage. I am sure that I was sometimes holding her back from realizing her full potential. I don't know how long she would have endured that. In hind sight, I can see where we were not perfectly matched, though we were well enough matched to make a marriage work with effort.

"Becoming a twelve-year-old again has opened a lot of opportunity. First, since I need to figure out the new me and where I fit into the scheme of things, what better way to do that than with peers that are all trying to do the same thing? As you know, people spend their teen years trying out different identities to see what works best for them, hence all the confusion of that period in a person's life. My own identity confusion will be viewed as just another kid trying to find herself. I will be enrolling in seventh grade again in the fall primarily to surround myself with other girls going through similar experiences. While the primary reason for going back to school is social I also hope to also rise to my potential academically. Socially, I will learn how to BE a girl and accumulate girl experiences as I grow into adulthood. Growing up as a girl will be a valuable experience for me, paying dividends as I enter adulthood again. Academically, I can take advantage of the opportunity to excel - it should not be hard since I have been through the process before and even hold a college degree. And I will know why I am there, unlike last time.

"I did not 'live' my teen years the first time around. I was a geeky gamer and squandered my time and energy. I did not take advantage of the opportunities offered. Math, science, and technology came to me without effort, but I practically failed out of my other classes because I would not engage with them. I have often regretted not applying myself. I was not involved in extracurricular activities and had no social life outside of a small circle of similarly inclined geeks and my online 'friends'. I was lucky to get accepted into the state college. I finally came out of my shell when I met Sandra. I know exactly how Tom felt when he first met her. Like him, she opened my eyes to see a whole new world. I still remember that snowy day we went to dinner while waiting for the traffic to clear. I was so smitten that I never wanted to leave her side. She told me later that she felt the same way. It was meant to be. We had a good thing going, at first.

"You were right when you told me that I was operating below my potential." I told her, "All my teachers and professors told me that I really needed to step up my game. My supervisor, when he let me go, said that he was doing me a favor if I would take the opportunity to realize my potential. He felt that my job was beneath me. I do want to change that."

Grandma smiled, "You are an unusually mature young girl."

I snorted at that, "Thirty-two years of life experiences will do that to a girl."

She put her arm around me and gave me a sideways hug, "I have a feeling that things will work out wonderfully for you, Andi. It will also be great to have such a wonderful new great granddaughter. Welcome to the family, dear."

Grandma then took my hands in hers and stared intently into my eyes. That strange tingly feeling returned.

"Yes," she said more to herself than to me. "I see great things in your future."

"What do you see?" I asked curiously has she let go of my hands.

She smiled a knowing smile, "I see accomplishment, strong friendships, love, and happiness in your future. You will be an admirable woman, Andi."

"You are not going to give me any specifics," I asked already knowing the answer, "are you?"

She patted my knee again, "Some things are best discovered on your own, sweetheart. Just follow you desires, work hard, open your heart, have courage, and be kind. You will do well."

"I have a question for you," I told her.

She nodded at me to continue.

"Why did you include Tom's bolt in the ceremony?" I asked.

"That's a good question. When I talked with Sandra on the phone the first time, I had a vision that Tom was going to be part of the solution to the infertility and that I needed his bolt for the ceremony," she explained, "though, at the time, I didn't know how or why. I just hoped that it wasn't to break up your marriage and steal your wife. I am not a fan of intentionally destroying marriages. I hoped that maybe it was that he would, with his medical industry connections, be instrumental in helping you to find a way around your infertility. Given his wealth, I thought that he might even finance whatever treatment was necessary.

"By the way, sweetie," she sidetracked, "your infertility has been cured. Be careful what you do with those cute boys or you will find yourself to be a mother too. It is best to wait until you find the right man and are prepared to raise a loving family. Be patient."

I had blanched at that news.

"It's okay, dear," she had almost giggled at my expression and gave my hand a squeeze, "we all have had that problem."

"Anyway," she got back on track, "I wasn't totally surprised to see his bolt joined with Sandra's nut, and I was relieved that his role was not to be the home breaker, but to be there to pick up the pieces for Sandra after your marriage ended. It is not what I expected, but I think that things are turning out just fine. I am very sure that your marriage would have eventually ended with or without the magic’s help. As you pointed out, with your relationship with Sandra changed, there needed to be another man to fill Sandra's need for a child within a loving relationship. I think that, as it turned out, Tom is a good choice, don't you?"

"I guess so," I had admitted without enthusiasm.

"Do you know of any man who would have been a better choice?" she asked.

As I thought of it, she had a point there. I just shook my head.

"I can see now that including Tom's bolt also solved another problem," she continued. "Shortly after he first met Sandra, he came home for a family event. He took me aside and told me that he had, unexpectedly, met a woman who filled his every dream, day and night. This was good news to me, the boy has been so focused on work his whole life that he has barely noticed that women exist. The family had resigned itself to the fact that he was to be a confirmed bachelor for his whole life. Unfortunately he seemed very conflicted over this new revelation. He went on to tell me that the only problem was that the woman of his dreams was happily married to a fine man. Over the next weeks, after he went back to Wisconsin, he'd call me when his anguish was at its worse and I'd try to help him get past this infatuation. His infatuation was getting in the way of his productivity, which caused its own problems. On one of those calls, he told me of Sandra's frustration with not being able to have children and asked if I could help the two of you. As we were talking, I had the vision of the ceremony that needed to be performed, In the vision I saw that he had a role to play in the saga. I then asked him to send me a bolt. Like any good mechanical engineer, he had one in his workshop. I told him that I could help with the infertility and to have Sandra call me."

"So what you're telling me," I interjected, "is that you knew, from the start, that Sandra would eventually marry your grandson."

"Not at all," she said, "but I knew that there was a distinct possibility that she would. As I said earlier, I was hoping that his role might be something different. After the ceremony, however, I knew. It made me sad as I hate to see marriages begun with love and promise end. However, knowing how the magic operates, I knew that I just had to wait to see how the happy ending would eventually prevail. There is often pain and heartache on the road to joy and happiness. It is often the painful experiences that make you appreciate the joyful ones."

We sat contemplating for a moment.

"You told your son and his wife that I had already been compensated for the changes," I told her. "What did you mean by that?"

"I wasn't sure," she admitted, "when I told them that. The magic had just reaffirmed to me that you had been blessed beyond anything that even I could have expected. Our conversation here has helped me to see how. You have your loving connection with Sandra, but not in a way that you expected or wanted nine months ago. It is very clear to me now that your real compensation is the opportunity to make something of yourself. In addition I just saw into your future and I believe that you will someday bless the day that you and I met. You will feel, with all your heart, that the ceremony was a turning point for you and the start on the road to something great. This change has not done you any real harm. You will eventually realize that."

"I hope that you are right," I sincerely tell her.

She gave a gentle smile as she quietly said, "I generally am."

"How do you feel now?" She asked with genuine concern.

"Besides being uncomfortable and irritable?" I smile at her, "I am actually more at peace. Thank you for helping me put things in perspective, Grandma."

"Any time dear," she smiles again, "Counseling services are free for family. Call me anytime you want to talk."

"You will answer the phone now?" I asked with a touch of accusation in my voice.

She had smiled her annoying knowing smile: "It was important for you to arrive at your conclusions without help from me. I will take your call now that you have come to see the impacts of the ceremony for what they are."

I gave her a hug and thanked her again for helping me see things as they are.

"You helped answer some of my questions, too," she added. "So, thank you."

Grandma gave me a ride back to the hotel where a couple of Motrin pills and the Jacuzzi tub in my room helped to relieve some of my physical distress as my thoughts had dwelled on what we had discussed.

As I had enjoyed the magic of over the counter pharmaceuticals and a good hot bath, I remember thinking that just maybe things were better. What had transpired in the last nine months was just not what we expected when we first visited the Bayou State. Life is full of surprises.

----<0>----

After an all too brief soak in the tub, I caught a ride to the reception the Broussard's mansion with Sandra's parents. We brought Sandra's luggage with us and one of Tom’s cousins hauled it into the house and left it by the front entrance, waiting to be put in the couple's get away vehicle. We arrived early so that we could help wherever necessary.

There wasn't much for us to do as the wedding planners and caterers had everything in hand. It was amazing to watch the efficiency of the professionals.

Not long before the first guests arrived, the newlyweds made an appearance. Sandra had changed into a floor length gown that was a toned down version of the voluminous wedding gown that she had worn at the ceremony. The ceremonial dress would have been too difficult to manage through the reception.

The couple had the glow of sexual satisfaction about them.

I found that I was at peace with the idea of their union. I was seeing a pleasantly satisfied and happy best friend, not an unfaithful ex-wife.

When Tom was otherwise distracted, I went to give Sandra a hug.

"Congratulations BFF," I told her sincerely. "You deserve it all."

"He is a wonderful guy, isn't he." She sighed. "Thanks for everything, Andi. I wouldn't have made it without you."

"By the way," I grinned slyly at her, "I'd go easy on the alcohol tonight if I were you."

She blushes, "We've already consummated the marriage, and we were both sober."

"I know," I continued to grin at her. "And Tom has already given you your heart's desire for a wedding gift."

She looked at me confused.

"You conceived this afternoon." I cleared up her confusion.

"You can't know that," she said uncertainly.

"I can't," I agreed, "but Grandma Broussard can. She told me this afternoon that you'd be pregnant before the reception."

"Oh, I hope so," she said wistfully.

"So tell me, is he as big as you thought he was?" I asked with a wicked grin. "And is bigger better?"

"It's HUGE," she whispers in my ear, "but the geek doesn't really know how to use it to best effect yet. I will have to help him figure that out on the honeymoon."

It was my turn to blush.

"And as far as the second part of your question goes," she continued, "I am not going to make comparisons to you."

After giggling, she gave me a look of concern.

"You talked with Grandma?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, "And don't worry, all is well. I am starting to like the old lady. You and Tom will need to find time to talk with her."

The look she gave me said that she wasn't convinced.

"I'll tell you all about it sometime," I promise her as Tom rejoined us.

The receiving line seemed to last for an eternity, and I was happy to finally take my seat at the head table when dinner was served.

When it came time for the toasts, I was asked to give one as the Maid-of-Honor.

"I am very happy for my BFF. She is happier than I have ever seen her.

"Since Tom has come into her life, Sandra has become a new woman, literally. Nine months ago she was your average wonderful woman. Tom's love has transformed her into the ravished beauty before you."

There were a few giggles at that line and the couple blushed mightily.

"His love for her has resulted in major changes for me as well, but we won't go there. Today we are here to celebrate their love. Today Tom has taken my place as the most important person in Sandra's life and I am happy for her. For them. May their love continue to grow." raising my glass, I continued, "I give you the happy couple. To their happiness and good health."

Before sitting down, I turned to Tom and added, "As I give her into your care, be aware that if you ever mistreat her you will suffer my wrath."

That threat got chuckles from around the room.

The evening had progressed according the time old traditions. At the appropriate time, I had to dance with the best man, who was a foot taller than me and twenty years older than my apparent age. It was awkward. I danced with Tom but due to height differences I was unable to talk with him. After a while I took him aside and let him know that I thought that he was the best thing that had ever happened to Sandra. I told him that I was happy and at peace with the way things were.

"I was going to tell you to not come home until she's pregnant, but you've already accomplished that." I inform him, "Instead, don't bring her home until she's satisfied. That will be a bit harder to accomplish."

"She's pregnant?" he exclaimed, "We only did it twice this afternoon."

"Well," I snorted, "You must really pack a punch. I tried to get her pregnant for a decade with no success. You accomplished it on the first try. Congratulations Daddy."

He looked at me in a daze, "How do you know?"

I sighed, "Grandma told me."

I noticed that the happy couple managed to corner Grandma Broussard during a lull in the festivities. Sandra later told me that Grandma had given them a condensed version of our earlier conversation. She had told them she felt that their love would have brought them to this place with or without the magic, but that the magic made is so that it was a win-win situation for all of us. She had only smiled her annoying smile when the couple asked her if they were already pregnant. She had told them that only time would tell.

I seemed to be popular that night. Many a young boy asked me to dance. Of course, none knew how. A few of them strutted about trying to impress me with their manliness in the awkward age-old manner of boys all over the world. I remember trying similar stupid stunts when I was a boy at that age.

The rumors of my transformation and past relationship with Sandra had been making the rounds within Tom's family and some of the guests. The rumors weren't entirely accurate but it resulted in a lot of strange looks from the party goers. Several of the bolder family members sought me out over the course of the evening to express their regrets for Grandma's actions, but they were all happy that Tom had found such a beautiful wife. A few asked me how I was holding up. I reassured them that I was at peace with the proceedings.

Eventually, the time came for the couple to leave the reception. The wedding party had all gotten together to decorate the Rolls Royce parked at the top of the circular driveway. It had all the traditional streamers, signs, tin cans, etc. and was ready to go. About the time we finished with the car, we heard the thumping of helicopter rotors approaching. I had slapped my forehead. Of course, I had thought, what does a rich guy do to make a statement?

The helicopter landed on the front lawn and the happy couple was soon airborne and heading into the night to the well wishes of the assembled guests. Before they left, Sandra told me that she still didn't know where they were going.

After Tom and Sandra had made their exit, the party started to slowly break up.

I had been exhausted when I finally slipped into bed at the hotel well after midnight. I fell asleep with a sense of peace and wondering where the happy couple had gone.

 

NotExpected 16

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Eventually, the time came for the couple to leave the reception. The wedding party had all gotten together to decorate the Rolls Royce parked at the top of the circular driveway. It had all the traditional streamers, signs, tin cans, etc. and was ready to go. About the time we finished with the car, we heard the thumping of helicopter rotors approaching. I had slapped my forehead. Of course, I had thought, what does a rich guy do to make a statement? The helicopter landed on the front lawn and the happy couple was soon airborne and heading into the night to the well wishes of the assembled guests. Before they left, Sandra told me that she still didn't know where they were going. After Tom and Sandra had made their exit, the party started to slowly break up. I had been exhausted when I finally slipped into bed at the hotel well after midnight. I fell asleep with a sense of peace and wondering where the happy couple had gone.

Chapter 16

I arrived back home at the condo the day after the wedding having traveled back to Wisconsin with Sandra’s family. The Broussards had tried to talk me into staying with them while the couple were gone, but I wanted to get home to consider my next moves, I was also looking forward to developing stronger connections with my new girlfriends.

The next two weeks were strangely boring without a wedding to plan, and no job or school to attend to, and Sandra being gone. There was a vacuum in my schedule and I had to work hard to fill it. I spent a lot of the time with the girls. I also spent some time hanging out at the condo gaming when the girls were not available, but found that gaming had lost much of its appeal. Another casualty of the change.

Unfortunately, having time on my hands gave me time to think more about what had happened to me. Intellectually things made sense, if you believe in magic. Grandma Broussard had helped me see how the current situation was probably better than what was likely to have happened.

As I had reflected on my situation, I had been surprised to realize that I was generally comfortable being a girl. Sure I had a lot to learn, but with the slow transition and all the support from family and friends, physically becoming a girl had kind of snuck up on me. I suppose that if the transition had happened overnight, the shock of the experience would have been severe.

I didn’t have too much trouble with the change in wardrobe. In fact, I found the clothes to be an interesting design problem. I actually liked to explore different looks and model different clothing options and combinations. The process is much more involved than for a male, and with good reason. I found that making a girl pretty is a much more interesting challenge than dressing a boy. After all, no one really cares what a boy looks like, as long as he is clean and well groomed.

The first week the newlyweds were gone, the girls and I spent a couple of afternoons trolling the mall looking at clothes and accessories.

The local schools had gotten out for the summer the same week as the wedding so the girls and I started spending more time together after I got back. Kelley was our organizer and made sure that the four of us got together as often as possible. Over the next six years, we were inseparable. Our clique, at school, became known as 'The Posse' for reasons to be discussed later.

Our shopping trips that week were mostly scouting trips. We looked at and tried on many outfits, trying to find a style that worked for each of us. The other girls were also trying to find identities that worked for them. We didn’t buy much. From the looks of things, finding our style would be a long process.

"What do you think?" Jenny asked holding up a pleated mini-skirt.

"That's SO cute." Kelley gushed. "I wish that I had your legs. I could never wear something like that. Go try it on!"

When she came out, the skirt barely covered her underwear.

"I don't know," I started.

"Andi," Susie commented in frustration, "you sound like my mom. I think it's cute and looks great on you, Jenny."

It did look cute, I just didn't think that it was appropriate for a twelve-year-old. It was really short.

Jenny handed a similar skirt to me." Andi, you have the legs for it. Your butt is a little small, but I think that you could definitely pull it off."

"I don't know," I waffled, "I don't think that it's me?"

"What are you afraid of," Kelley asked. "You are a super babe like your mother. You will look really hot in that skirt."

With that, she pushed me towards the changing rooms.

"OMG!," Susie exclaimed when I came out of the changing room trying to pull the hem down. "Kelley was right, you look totally hot in that skirt. You will look hotter when your curves develop some more."

"You SO have to get that skirt!" Kelley encouraged me.

"Where would I wear it?", I countered. "There's not much call for one now."

Practical thoughts, like not having a venue, seemed lost on the girls. If it's cute, then it should be bought, seemed to be the mantra. It is a good thing that the girls had very limited budgets.

In the end, I did not get the skirt on the excuse that I needed to think about it. It was soon forgotten by the other girls as we found more cute stuff to wear. The skirt was just one of more than a dozen equally cute items that we did not buy that day.

When I did think about it, later, I found myself getting used to the idea of the skirt. I even contemplated going back for it.

The girl’s parents weren’t comfortable with me chauffeuring their daughters around so we would have one of the girl’s parents provide chauffeur service whenever possible.

The hardest part of my change, it turned out, was not becoming a girl. It was the fact that virtually no one over sixteen took me seriously. I found myself having trouble doing such simple things as charging on my credit card, driving, shopping, etc. Wherever I went, I was asked "where are your parents?", "are you sure that you are allowed to drive?", "shouldn’t you ask your mother first?", and other similar statements. When I would be with Sandra before the wedding, everyone assumed that she was either my mother or big sister and we found it easier to play to the perception. I didn't have that cover while she was gone on her honeymoon.

----<0>----

While the newlyweds were on their honeymoon, I stayed at my condo, but starting moving Sandra's things into the mansion for her. Sandra and Tom had hoped that I would move in while they were gone, but I decided to wait until they had settled in once they got home. I did not want to get in the way of them establishing their routine. I would have to move in soon enough anyway, once the adoption was complete.

In the crush of wedding planning, we had delayed dealing with my mortgage. Thinking that it would be a small way of paying back some of the excess funds deposited in my investment account, I worked with the bank to retire the note with my own funds while the happy couple were gone. I needed to get it done before I lost my emancipation in the adoption. Getting the bank to work with me, face-to-face was a problem.

"Can I help you, Miss," the receptionist at the bank asked me when I presented myself for my appointment with a mortgage specialist.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Smith," I informed her.

She looked at me and smiled, "Mr. Smith only deals with mortgages, sweetie. If you need to open a savings account, I can connect you with someone else. You will need a parent to co-sign with you."

"I already have savings and checking accounts," I informed her, "I am here about my mortgage."

"You have a mortgage?" She obviously didn’t believe me. "Will your parent’s be joining you?"

"No," I replied a little frustrated. "I am on my own. The mortgage is mine, not theirs."

"Are you sure, sweetie?" She asked dubiously. "The law won't allow someone your age to sign legal documents."

"I am older than I look," I growled at her.

She skeptically picked up her phone and punched in a number, "Your 2:00 pm appointment is here."

After a moment she hung up the phone. "Mr. Smith will be right out."

It wasn’t too much longer that a handsome man in his late 20s came to the reception area and the receptionist pointed at me.

"Are you Andrew?" he looked confused.

"Yes and no," I said, furthering his confusion.  "I will explain it to you in your office."

"Where are your parents?" he asked.

"I am older than I look," I growled again. "I don't need parents to conduct this business."

He looked at me for a moment. "This should be good," he said with a smile. "Come on back."

Once seated in his office, I laid out the court documents for the dissolution and the declaration of my name and gender change. "These court documents and letter from my doctor should help explain things. As you can see from my driver's license, I am actually thirty-two. The short version is that, until recently, I was Andrew but I went through a spontaneous age regression and change in gender. As a result, I have legally changed my name and been legally recognized as being female. I am still thirty-two and am not a minor."

He gave me a skeptical look as I continued, "My physical changes also resulted in the dissolution of my marriage to Sandra. As the dissolution documents show, I was granted ownership of the condominium, and its mortgage, when we divided the assets."

"So," he said slowly. "You want me to believe that you were the man whose name is on the mortgage and you want to change that name and remove the wife's name from the contract?"

He looked at me, "I find it hard to believe that you were ever an adult male. Are you sure that your parents shouldn't be here?"

"I get that all the time," I told him truthfully. "No I don't need my 'parents', as the court documents attest. And no I don't want to simply change names on the mortgage. I want to pay off the mortgage and get clear title to the property in my new name. I provided the documents to establish the change in my identity and the change in ownership of the condo."

"Is there anyone that I can talk to to verify this?" He was trying to be polite, but I could tell that he wasn't sure if this was a hoax or not. I was ready for this.

"My attorney's card is included with the documents," I pointed out to him. "You can talk to her."

"I will," he promised. "How do you plan to pay off the mortgage?"

"I can write a check now from my investment account," I mentioned, "or we can set up a wire transfer. Which do you prefer?"

"Who can verify funds?" he asked obviously doubtful of my proposal.

I handed him the card from my investment counselor. "You should call her."

He did. He kept glancing at me while talking to my lawyer. I could tell that he was still not convinced that I was who I claimed to be but he had nothing but my appearance to refute the documentation. My investment counselor assured him that I had more than sufficient funds to retire the mortgage.

"Well," he said after finishing the phone calls. "I suppose that we can take your check. We have a bit of paperwork to do to retire the mortgage and clear the title on your property. It should take a couple of days for your check to clear and to get everything else in order."

An hour later, I walked out having paid off the mortgage by personal check and with a little more paperwork to complete before the title company could get me a new title. Sandra had to sign over her interest in the property before I could get clear title and that would have to wait until she got back into town. She signed and had the proper papers notarized soon after she got home. The condo was mine, free and clear, before the Wisconsin reception. Tom tried to pay me back, but I refused. When he grinned at me, I knew that he'd find a way to get the money in my account. It was hard to win at this game.

I couldn't help but think that the process could have gone much more smoothly if I wasn't presenting as a twelve-year-old.

I remember thinking that I couldn't wait to grow up again.

By the time the newlyweds had returned I had decided that I didn’t mind being a girl as much as I minded being twelve-years-old again.

----<0>----

While I was trying to fill the vacuum after the wedding, I started thinking about the advice that my supervisor had given me when I was let go. After some searching, I found a couple of reputable universities with online computer engineering programs. Online education was a relatively new thing at the time and there weren’t a lot of options available. While I considered enrolling in one of the two acceptable degree programs that I had found, I discovered an engineering course that I was qualified to take without being admitted to a program. I enrolled in the course which started with the summer term. The nice thing about online courses is that no one had to see what I looked like. Online I was a thirty-two year old woman with a BS in Information Technology going back to school for a second degree. It was refreshing to be treated as an adult again.

I discovered that many of my courses from my prior degree would apply to the new degree program. When getting a second baccalaureate degree you only need to take the required courses that you have not already completed when earning your prior degree. This meant that I could graduate with a second baccalaureate degree rather quickly. As it turned out, I did enroll in one of the programs, but took my time, as a part-time student, and completed the computer engineering degree not long before I "graduated" from high school again six years later.

I could have completed the degree much faster, but why rush things? I needed to grow up before I would really be able to use it anyway. I wanted to spend the next six years focusing on accumulating the experiences of a some-what typical teenage girl instead of working for a living. My main reason for going to middle and high school was social anyway. I already had diplomas from both. I didn't need new ones.

While I didn't technically work for a living, I did occasionally work with Tom and his research team, mostly in the summers and on holiday breaks, through the next six years. My contributions were sufficient to get my name, along with his, on a few patents before I 'finished' high school.

In the end, I completed my Computer Engineering degree with perfect grades. The high marks on my new college degree, coupled with a few patents on my resume, are what ultimately set me up for admission to MIT for my master's and doctorate degrees. My new high school experience had little to do with my acceptance.

----<0>----

One afternoon while trolling a local mall we had quite a lively discussion about what to do that summer. I advocated for sailing lessons. The local Park & Recreation department had a program to introduce kids to sailing with Hobie Wave catamarans. I had an ulterior motive. I had been sailing with my parents all my life. Outside of gaming, it had been my favorite hobby. Unfortunately it is only possible to sail in the summer time in Wisconsin. My plan was to start training crew so when I get permission from my new 'father' to dock my own boat in his little private marina, I'd have someone to help crew the boat. There were quite a few sailing clubs on the Wisconsin side of Lake Michigan and I had sailed Lasers in local races last time I was a teen. This time I wanted to participate in the off-shore races and that requires a bigger boat and a crew. I could now afford the boat. I just needed the crew.

To get the girls used to the idea, I talked my real parents into taking us all out for a sail the Saturday after the wedding. I think that my dad couldn't wait to dock the boat at the end of the day. Spending the day with three chatty twelve-year-old girls, and one twelve-year-old look-a-like, in a confined space was a little much for him.

It was a good sailing day, and we kept the girls busy learning how handle the lines. There were lots of giggles and laughter when someone would grab the wrong line or missed a tack when at the tiller. I think, though, the thing they liked best was jumping overboard for a swim then laying out on the foredeck in their swimsuits catching a few rays.

Jenny wasn't so keen on the idea of sailing at first, but came around when she saw the athletic and intellectual challenge in it. Also, the other girls pressed her to participate as one of the team.

Jenny did, however, put a condition on her acceptance. She wanted us to participate in a beginning cheerleading class. She had taken one the prior summer and thought that it was fun. This time I was the hesitant one, but the enthusiasm of the other girls soon had me reluctantly on board.

That summer, we spent all our free time together either sailing or cheerleading. In the process we formed lasting bonds of friendship. None of us were the designated leader of the group. We were all equals. When we were on the water, the girls looked to me for guidance. When we were jumping around with pom poms, Jenny was our leader. Kelley was our organizer. She made sure that everything ran smoothly. Susie was our girly girl and fashion consultant. Susie also turned out to be remarkably kind and helpful to anyone in trouble. She turned out to be conscience of the group.

----<0>----

As our bond strengthened it didn’t take too long before I couldn’t keep my underage cover intact. Over the years, we were never able to keep secrets from each other.

Kelley had tried hinting that things with me were not adding up, but I was always able to deflect her. Jenny, on the other hand, seemed to have few filters and she broached the subject after we’d all spent over a week hanging out together everyday.

We were hanging out on the patio in my backyard, having just received a warm-up lesson in cheer from Jenny. She wanted us prepared for our first cheer lesson later that week.

"What I don’t understand, Andi," she confronted me, "is how you are allowed to drive. And my mother would never let me stay by myself for more than a day. You’ve been on your own for over a week now. What’s up with that?"

"It’s complicated," I sighed knowing that this would come up sooner or later. I still didn’t have a good cover story for it. It was so hard to keep secrets from friends. "Can you keep a secret?"

That’s a question guaranteed to get the attention of a group of twelve-year-old girls.

They all looked at me with interest. I ran into the house and returned with my wallet. Extracting my driver’s license, I passed it around.

"Take a look at this," I told them.

"You have a fake driver’s license?" Susie asked as she looked closely at the card. "Isn’t that illegal? Nice picture."

"It’s valid," I defended.

"But," Kelley looked puzzled as she did the math after she looked at the birth date, "It says that you’re like over thirty. That can’t be right. You’d be almost as old as my parents. You are way too young to be old."

"Thirty-two is not old," I said indignantly.

"It is SO totally old," disagreed Jenny. "What happened? Did you get stuck at age twelve and, like, never grew up?"

"I grew up," I told them, "but something happened to me recently and I reverted to this age. I guess that I have a do over. I must not have gotten it right the first time."

I tried to refrain from telling them that I had been male and married, but I did eventually had to confess to that too. I ended up telling them almost the whole story, leaving out out many of the details of the magic ceremony part.

"So, like, your mom is really your wife?" Susie asked trying to wrap her head around the news.

"Ex-wife," I confirmed.

"That is like totally messed up," Jenny observed.

We discussed the issue of my age, gender change, and age regression for the rest of the afternoon, and in the end they decided that my story was a tall tale, but that was okay as long as I could be their chauffeur. We had become good friends over the last week and this bit of information couldn’t undo that. They liked the idea that I could be their chauffeur… that is, after I convinced their parents that it was okay.

The girls agreed to keep my secret even though it was common knowledge within my former circles. We decided that we would follow the same path that Sandra and I had been doing. That is, we didn’t bring the subject up, but we did not deny it either if someone found out by other means. We just didn’t make a big deal out of it. I did not want to weave a web of lies if we could avoid it. As it turned out, we couldn't avoid telling a few white lies once school started. The girls were true to their word and never told anyone. It is amazing how loyal girls can be to their friends. It didn't take too long before none of them thought about it any more. I was just Andi, one of their peers and a best friend.

"Like, who would believe us anyway?" Kelley observed. "I’m not sure that I believe your story either."

"Yeah," Susie added. "You do act a little grown up and I was thinking that you must have been a tom boy since there are things that you don’t seem to know about being a girl. So maybe your story is true, but I’ve seen you in your bikini and in dressing rooms at the mall. There is no way that you are a boy now. You are just like us."

"This is a little weird," Jenny pointed out. "Don’t you think? You are too cute to have ever been a boy. I can’t see it. And you had your period last week. I think that we should just forget the part about you having been a boy."

The others agreed.

I opened my arms and we joined in a group hug.

"You guys are totally the best," I let them know.

Susie said, "Yep, you are such a girl."

"Aren't you glad that you're one of us now?" Kelley asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer that question.

Later, after the girls had gone home to spend the evening with their families, I was satisfied that I had a solution to the problem that my ‘advisors’, psychologist, and I had been trying to solve for a couple of months now. I had found a natural way to connect with girls my ‘age’. And, as predicted, it turned out to be a great way to learn how to truly become a girl.

I went to spend the evening with my parents where my mother and I had a long chat about my new group of friends. She agreed that the girls were good for me. She had been impressed with the group when we were on the sailboat together.

I ended up staying the night and the next day was spent doing mother/daughter things with my mom.

 

NotExpected 17

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Later, after the girls had gone home to spend the evening with their families, I was satisfied that I had a solution to the problem that my ‘advisors’, psychologist, and I had been trying to solve for a couple of months now. I had found a natural way to connect with girls my ‘age’. And, as predicted, it turned out to be a great way to learn how to truly become a girl. I went to spend the evening with my parents where my mother and I had a long chat about my new group of friends. She agreed that the girls were good for me. She had been impressed with the group when we were on the sailboat together. I ended up staying the night and the next day was spent doing mother/daughter things with my mom.

Chapter 17

Two weeks after the wedding, I got a call from Sandra. It was late Saturday evening.

"We’re home," she informed me. "Where are you?"

"At the condo," I replied. "How was it?"

"It was amazing," she gushed. "I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Don’t change the subject. We thought that you’d have moved in while we were gone."

"I think you’ll find that I moved pretty much all of your stuff over." I informed her. "With the help of your housekeeper, I tried to put your clothes in logical places, but you’ll probably want to rearrange them to your liking. The housekeeper had me leave some boxes of your stuff in a bay of the garage."

"Thank you Andi. That was thoughtful. So," she asked, "when are you moving in?"

"Soon, I imagine," I replied. "I’ve been talking with your mother-in-law and the paperwork for my adoption is ready. We just have to go to Louisiana to meet with a Judge to finalize everything. When that happens, I guess that I’ll have to move in."

"Don’t sound so excited," she said dryly. "Why don’t you come out tomorrow?"

"No," I declined, "I have plans with my new girlfriends."

Plus, I had thought to myself, you’ll need time to get settled in. While I really wanted to be together with Sandra again, I didn’t want to get in the way of them establishing their new routine.

I continued, "I will stop by your office Monday morning to get you to sign some papers relating to the condo. You will need to get them notarized."

"Oh," she said somewhat surprised, "You’ve been busy. I want to hear about it, girlfriend. Why don’t we meet for lunch and we can take care of the papers and we can talk? Tom be leaving for a meeting in California Monday afternoon and I’ll be all alone in this great big house. We can have a sleepover Monday if you like. I miss you."

"He’s leaving you already!" I teased her.

"We’ve both been away from work for almost three weeks now," she defended her man. "We both will be slammed for the next couple of weeks trying to get back on track."

We chatted for a few more minutes before Tom asked her something and she said that she needed to go.

----<0>----

Monday we met for lunch and in the afternoon I drove out to the estate after leaving the signed papers at the bank. I brought a load of my clothes with me and Sandra helped me to put them away in my new suite when she got home from work. My things didn’t even begin to fill the spacious walk-in closet or the available drawers. At the time, I couldn’t imagine having enough clothes to do justice to the space. Silly me, by the time I graduated from high school, the closet was overflowing.

I placed my pink crystal with its stand on my new vanity. I had stared at it for a moment, wondering what the future held.

----<0>----

Sandra and I had worked together in the spacious kitchen to make a simple dinner after we put my stuff away. While we were at it, she told me a lot about their stay at Kamalame Cay in the Bahamas. They had a private beach with access to all sorts of water sport toys. She had apparently, in addition to sex, introduced Tom to the joys of sailing, a hobby that Sandra and I had shared with my parents.

After cleaning up the dinner we adjourned to the living room to visit. As we got settled, I started digging around in my bag looking for something special. When I found it I held it out to her.

Her eyes grew wide with recognition when she took the absolutely huge dildo from my hand.

"I found this in your underwear drawer when I moved your stuff over," I grinned at her. "It looks like you were in training for your honeymoon."

Blushing fire engine red, she admitted, "It was a long six months after we quit having sex."

"Did you teach him how to most effectively use that huge penis of his?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"Andi!" She exclaimed with a blush. "That’s not something a twelve-year-old girl needs to know."

I gave her The Look.

"Okay," she continues to blush, "The real thing is much better than this." she admitted as she waved the dildo at me.

"Well?" I prompted her.

"Tom was essentially a virgin so I had to teach him a thing or two about how to satisfy a woman. He was very attentive and a fast learner," she said somewhat dreamily, "We did it on the bed, floor, couch, kitchen counter, dining room table, the patio, up against the wall, in the shower, Jacuzzi, and on the beach and in the surf. We did it at night, in the morning and at all hours of the day. I introduced him to all the positions that you and I discovered and I think that he and I developed a few new ones of our own. He didn’t really know much about a woman’s body, so I helped him learn more than how to put tab T into slot S and unload. Does that satisfy your curiosity, Miss Dirty Mind?"

"Well," I said, "What I really need to know is, are you satisfied? I told Tom you two couldn’t come home until he satisfied you."

She laughed, "He did mention that. Let me tell you, he took the assignment seriously."

"Well?" I queried.

"Let’s say," she coyly said, "that I am a LOT more satisfied than I was a couple of weeks ago."

"I guess," I sighed, "I’m not going to get all the gory details, am I?

"No," she grinned, "You are not. But in answer to your question, he is still learning. It took you and I years to perfect our intimacy. I suspect that he and I will too. I miss the tenderness that you and I developed after we got past the newness of raw sex and started to make real love. I suspect that Tom and I will get there with time, but until then, I’ll enjoy the wild sex of new love.

"And," she added with a more evil grin, "to answer your other question from two weeks ago, I am starting to think that bigger just might be better."

She handed me back the dildo. "I won’t be needing this anymore. You might save this until you body develops a little more. You might just find it useful, though I’d probably start with a smaller one if I were you."

It was my turn to blush.

----<0>----

Later that evening, we were in nightgowns sitting on my new king sized princess bed painting our nails and chatting more about their trip. It felt good to be with my best friend again.

"I don’t know if I’ll get used to this huge place," She sighed at one point. "I really liked our condo. It was perfect for two. I am already lonely in this big house with Tom gone."

I grinned, "I guess that you’ll have to start filling it with children. Any signs of your pregnancy yet?"

She grinned and gave me a playful shove, "We have one child already."

"You know what I mean," I told her.

"You’re sure that I’m pregnant," she said. "aren’t you?"

"I will never doubt Grandma Broussard again." I said with confidence. "Right after the wedding, we had a long chat. In the course of the conversation she told me that you and Tom were busy working on getting pregnant while we spoke. She said that you would conceive before the reception."

Sandra got a dreamy look, "I hope that she’s right. My next period should come within the next week. I hope to miss it. And I want to hear more about your chat with Grandma."

"I doubt you noticed it," I let her know, "I put a pregnancy test kit in the cabinet under your bathroom sink when I moved your stuff in. I got one that claims to give results up to six days before your first missed period."

Sandra shot out of my room faster than I’ve ever seen her move.

She came back quite a bit later waving the test strip at me with a huge grin on her face.

"Its positive!" She almost shouted with tears of joy running down her face.

I give her a big hug and shared the joy.

"I think that Tom is in shock." she told me after settling down. "I called him with the good news. I think that I woke him up. He was at a loss for words. He told me that you had told him that we were pregnant at the wedding reception, but he didn’t believe you. We have decided to wait to tell anyone else until I get a chance to see the doctor."

"I told you so," I gloated just a little.

"I shouldn’t have doubted you." She conceded. "After all, you should have seen all the semen he pumped into me on our wedding day. It was fairly dripping all over. That boy has balls to match that huge penis of his. I knew there had to be a winner in there somewhere."

"TMI," I told her with my hands over my ears.

Later that night, sleep was slow in coming. I may have accepted the events of the last nine months, but I would occasionally get hit with a deep sense of loss. I gave in to self pity and cried softly until sleep overcame me.

That night I had dreams of wild sex on a moonlit beach. For the first time in my dreams, I was the woman and it felt good. All I knew was that the guy had one heck of a penis, but I couldn't see his face. My panties were damp when I awoke in the morning.

Sandra saw her doctor later that week and confirmed the pregnancy. The joyous news spread like wildfire.

----<0>----

As Tom and Sandra were both very busy getting back into the swing of work, it was left to me to ride herd on the local wedding planner to pull off that Saturday’s barbecue/reception. The logistics were not quite as involved as the wedding reception in Louisiana, but it wasn’t just a ‘throw a few burgers on the grill and pop open a beer’ affair either.

----<0>----

Friday afternoon, I took the girls out to the estate to check on the preparations for Saturday’s reception and to take another load of my stuff to my new room.

"OMG," squealed three amazed girls when the house came into view. "This place is huge!"

"Would you like the tour?" I asked needlessly.

We parked in the big circular driveway in front of the main entrance. Entering the entry atrium is always extremely impressive to first time visitors. It was designed to impress. The girls were no exception. The entryway is a huge gathering place and contains the grand staircase leading to the second floor where the bedrooms and living spaces are. They just slowly spun around trying to take it all in.

Our first stop was my bedroom suite as we each had a box to drop off there. After dropping my things on the floor by the door the three girls ran squealing over to my huge bed and threw themselves on it.

Jenny exclaimed, "This bed is big enough for the whole family!"

"When’s the sleepover?" Susie wanted to know.

"Look at that big screen TV," Kelley pointed out excitedly.

"You should see the closet," I mention, laughing at their antics.

They all jumped off the bed and rushed to the closet where I was holding the door open for their inspection.

"OMG!," Kelley exclaimed.

"You are SO going to need to buy more clothes to fill this closet," Jenny said in awe.

"And shoes too," Susie excitedly observed. "That’s the biggest shoe rack that I’ve ever heard of."

"And underwear too," Kelley observed as she opened the many built in drawers that were essentially empty.

I then showed them the ensuite bathroom. I’m pretty sure that the girls had thought they’d died and gone to heaven. The Jacuzzi tub could probably fit all of us and the shower stall had two shower heads.

"Life is so unfair," pouted Susie. "How do you rate all this luxury?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "My best friend married well. And I needed a place to stay?"

I grinned at them and said, "And there’s more."

I proceeded to show them the pools, the small ballroom, the study, the huge kitchen and formal dining room. I saved the best for last. Well, not quite the best, but I didn’t think that the laboratory areas would hold much interest for this crowd.

I showed them the TV room.

Well, it’s more like a small theatre for a couple of dozen people or so. It has stadium seating like the big theaters so there’s not a bad seat in the house. The screen takes up one whole wall. The best seat in the room has a panel that controls everything.

"I bet that TV will never be the same," Kelley sighed, "once you get used to this place."

"You might be right," I agreed. "We’ve been pretty busy the last month. I’ve only seen one short show here. It was amazing."

"Can we watch Beauty and the Beast sometime?," Susie almost begged. She was a real fan of the Disney Film. She had tons of the marketing toys that go with the film. I think that she could recite every line in the film from memory. "I bet that it would look awesome on this big screen."

Once the girls settled down, we all changed into swimsuits and spent the afternoon by, and in, the outdoor pool. It was a busy day outside as crews were preparing the estate for the next day's reception barbecue. The girls all stared and giggling at the "hunky guys" that were working around the grounds. We eventually had to move indoors when the crews started decorating the pool area.

On the way back to the condo, the girls talked me into having a sleepover at the mansion that next week.

----<0>----

The evening of the barbecue was beautiful and warm. All of my family were invited to the barbecue. Even though they had watched me morph into a young girl, not everyone in my extended family was happy to see Sandra leave me for another man and there were a few no-shows. We continued to fight that battle for some time. She had been a valued member of the family. There was a strong sense of loss in both families when we dissolved our marriage. Tom, Sandra, and I were very busy all afternoon and evening allaying everyone's concerns. Most of the family felt better by the time the evening was over.

----<0>----

Dad sidled up to me at one point and offhandedly said, "She sure traded up, didn’t she."

I sighed. Dad was one of those family members having a hard time with all the changes.

"Maybe so," I admitted, "but she didn’t leave me for him."

"Are you sure that they didn’t arrange this," he said waving at my new body, "so that they’d have a good excuse to get you out of the way quietly? It looks to me as if she wanted a baby and went to find someone rich who could give her one."

"Dad," I tried once again to make things clear to him, "We were resigned to being childless. This change has been hard on both of us. Neither one of us wanted things to turn out this way."

"Well," he observed, "she didn’t waste any time replacing you."

Looking over to where the newlyweds were chatting and laughing with some of Sandra's business associates, he commented, "She doesn't seem to be having a hard time."

"Dad!" I felt like hitting him up against the side of the head but couldn't reach that high.

"We were starting to have difficulty in our marriage. This is a better solution than some of the likely scenarios. Tom just happened to be in the right place at the right time to pick up the pieces," I said, "I’m okay with it."

"Are you really?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I am," I told him. "I wish that things could have been different, but I’m okay with the changes. If anything Sandra and I are closer than we’ve ever been. Just different. And I have a great new home."

"I still can’t understand how you’ve adapted so well to being a little girl," he commented.

"I don’t really understand it either," I admitted, "Maybe I had time to adjust mentally as the physical changes occurred so slowly. It’s not like there is anything that I can do to reverse it, so I might as well adapt. I’d go crazy otherwise."

"Good point," he concedes. "So, I hear that Sandra got her wish."

"Yep," I smile, "and I’m happy for her."

We chatted a while longer. I think that he was feeling a little better about things. I resolved to spend more time with my parents.

I ended up having similar conversations with a number of other relatives from both mine and Sandra's families. The best was with my eleven-year-old niece. She came over and gave me a hug.

"I’m so glad that you are a girl now, Uncle Andy," she happily informed me. "Maybe you can take me shopping sometime."

In all, it was a good party. It was therapeutic for me and my family and I got to meet a lot of Tom’s business associates and Sandra’s colleagues. Not that they included me in any conversations. I was treated like a twelve-year-old. In other words, after introductions, I was ignored. I spent more time with the kids that attended the party than I did with the adults.

----<0>----

The Monday after the party, we flew down to Louisiana taking Tom's parents with us. They had come up for the barbecue/reception.

This was just a day trip for us. The jet would wait for us while we met with the family court judge concerning my adoption. Tom's mother went with us as our legal representative.

We met with the Judge and a court recorder in his chambers. He had read the brief and had had several conversations with Tom's mother about our peculiar situation prior to this meeting. They were old friends. The Judge and his wife had been guests at Tom and Sandra's wedding.

When we first entered his chambers, the Judge looked me over for a few moments. I was wearing a bright summer dress and open toe sandals with a low heel. My finger and toe nails had matching polish. I looked like the definition of a twelve-year-old girl.

"And you", he addressed me, "must be our thirty-two-year-old little girl. If I remember right, you were the Maid-of-Honor at the wedding."

"Yes, Your Honor," I replied.

He just shook his head. "If I didn't know better I would think that this was some kind of a hoax. I am, however, aware of what Grandma Broussard is capable of."

Moving on he continued. "So it is my understanding that you wish Tom and Sandra to become your adoptive parents for the next six years until you reach an apparent age of eighteen years. Is that right?"

"Yes, Your Honor," I replied respectfully.

"Why would you give them this power?" He asked, "You are of age, have considerable assets, a college education, and can take care of yourself."

"That was in the brief, as you know," I pointed out before continuing. "We feel that it would be easier for me to live the life of a young girl as I grow back into adulthood. I am unemployable as long as I look like a teenager and it makes sense for me to live in harmony with my physical reality. Young girls have parents or guardians. As my new parent's, Tom and Sandra can act on my behalf in situations where a young girl would need a parent or guardian."

"I suppose that's one solution to the problem," admitted the Judge. "But why Tom and Sandra? I understand that your natural parents are still around."

"They are, Your Honor," I replied. "I moved out of their house fourteen years ago and in spite of the fact that I am on good relations with my parents, it would be difficult to go back into that relationship. Sandra is my very best friend and has been for years. I trust her to act in my best interests when needed. She is able to teach me what I need to know as I adapt to my new situation. I will be able to help her and Tom as their family grows. It’s a win-win situation."

Turning to Sandra and Tom the Judge asks, "And why are you willing to participate in this?"

Sandra and Tom smiled at each other and Tom replied for both of them. "There is a special bond between Andi and Sandra. Additionally, I feel somewhat responsible for Andi's current situation. I feel a need to make things as right as possible. By allowing her to live with us, and for us to provide a service that she needs, we will be making steps to make things right. This adoption will make her a legal part of our family, providing her with what she currently needs."

Still speaking to Tom and Sandra, the Judge asks. "You are aware that this is not your normal adoption. Andi will still have complete control of her financial resources without interference from you. But you will still be responsible for providing her food, shelter, education, and clothing appropriate to that which a teenage girl can expect in a loving family. This can be expensive for a girl."

"We understand, Your Honor," Sandra replied. "We are also committing to paying for her education through high school, with the option to pay for college if she decides to go that route again."

"That is very generous," observed the Judge.

"It's the least we can do," pointed out Tom, "given the current situation."

Turning back to me, the judge asked. "And, if I read this right, you agree to be subject to parental supervision including appropriate disciplinary measures as determined to be necessary by your new parents. You will have the obligations of a legal child of Tom and Sandra to honor and obey them like you would your own parents. Is this your understanding?"

"Yes, Your Honor," I replied. "But I understand that there is an exit clause that re-emancipates me under certain conditions if the situation becomes unbearable for any of us."

"There is indeed," the Judge agrees, "but it will require an action of the court to dissolve this adoption if the exit clause is exercised."

Addressing the three of us, the Judge asked. "Are all three of you in total agreement with the proposed adoption?"

We all answered in the affirmative.

"Well," the Judge said with resignation, "I need to get back to the courtroom. Given that this agreement is acceptable to all parties knowing the limits and risks involved, I am pleased to let you know," looking at Tom and Sandra, "that you now have a thirty-two-year-old twelve-year-old daughter. And, Andi, you are now the adopted child of this wonderful couple. The adoption will be recorded appropriately by close of business tomorrow, with your attorney's help. I wish you all the best."

And so that's how I came to be Andrea Marie Broussard.

This necessitated yet another trip to the DMV to change the name on my driver’s license later that week when the paperwork was completed. By then I was almost on a first name basis with the staff there so things went smoothly. The picture on the new license was even better than the last one.

We were home in Wisconsin in time to go out on the town for a celebratory dinner. Being in the role of a twelve-year-old, I had to settle for a Pepsi for the toast to our new beginning. The fact that Sandra couldn’t indulge in alcohol either, due to her pregnancy, made me feel a little better.

I officially took up permanent residence in my princess suite that night.

It would take some time for it to feel like home.

NotExpected 18

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn We were home in Wisconsin in time to go out on the town for a celebratory dinner. Being in the role of a twelve-year-old, I had to settle for a Pepsi for the toast to our new beginning. The fact that Sandra couldn’t indulge in alcohol either, due to her pregnancy, made me feel a little better. I officially took up permanent residence in my princess suite that night. It would take some time for it to feel like home.

Chapter 18

I moved more of my things to the big house over the next couple of weeks. I had not been in a hurry. I left a lot of my things at the condo as I planned on keeping it as my safe haven.

The condo became the effective clubhouse of our little clique until we completed high school together six years later. Our parents were a bit worried about the lack of adult supervision, which prompted some discussion of my past experience as an adult. This didn’t allay all the fears at first. We had to lay down a few clubhouse rules before the parents were comfortable. The most sacred of the rules was that no boys were allowed without real adult supervision (I didn’t count). Also, any parent could break up the gathering at anytime, recalling any or all of us to our respective homes without reason. Being the techno geek that I am, I installed secure webcams in the public areas of the condo so that parents could see what we were up to whenever they wanted. This made the parents of the other girls much more agreeable.

----<0>----

In keeping with my underage profile, we decided to minimize my use of my car. I only used my car occasionally, and never for routine things. My driving raised too many awkward questions. So, after Sandra had a long chat with Kelley’s mother about my situation, it was agreed that Sandra would drop me off at the condo every morning that summer on her way to work and pick me up on her way home. I would keep in touch with Kelley’s mom throughout the day as she was to be my ‘sitter’. Kelley’s mom was a stay-at-home mother, caring for Kelley and her three younger siblings. Susie’s parents both worked full time and she had a relative nearby that she stayed with during the day. Jenny’s mom only worked part time so, between the two mothers our little group was shuttled to cheer and sailing practices. The lessons did not occur every day, but these lessons meant that the girls and I spent most of the summer together.

All this activity kept me from hiding out with my computers full time, like I had the first time that I was a teenager. As the summer progressed, I slowly let myself settle into the role of a tween girl. It was awkward at first but immersion in the culture with three very vivacious teachers soon had me feeling reasonably comfortable with who I had become. I even caught myself acting like them from time to time. When I let go and just went with the flow it was fun, but more mature me would kick in and often would keep us from being too stupid, like unnecessarily being catty. I think that my influence had a maturing effect on my three friends. I know that their influence made me more care free and silly.

I did not stay completely away from my computers. I bought high end computer workstations for the condo and for my room at the mansion. It didn’t take much to convince Tom to let me set up secure connections to his computing center. He also gave me full physical access to his laboratory and computer center with a warning to not break anything or hurt myself. I spent most evenings, and days when not with my girlfriends, completing computer engineering class assignments using my workstations and Tom's considerable computing resources. I also spent time with Tom in his lab when he wasn’t traveling. He started to teach me how to use his design and analysis software. By the end of the summer I had become one of his part-time assistants and was helping him work on some of his designs. I was providing the computer expertise that he lacked when developing the various medical technologies. I even came up with a few ideas of my own for us to start development work on. We became pretty good friends and actually looked forward to our time working together on his projects and mine. The relationship had quickly become an odd combination of working peers and father-daughter. I liked it.

----<0>----

The girls and I did have the promised sleepover one night the week after the party. We spent the afternoon swimming in the outdoor pool, working on our tans, and talking non-stop. At least the others talked non-stop. I did a lot of observing and joined in when requested or when I felt that I had something to say. We stayed up late watching Beauty and the Beast, for Susie’s benefit, and other teen chick flicks in the home theatre. As Tom was out of town again, Sandra joined us for a while. She had to go to work the next day, so she didn’t stay long. The girls and I all fell asleep together on my huge bed and didn’t get up until late the next morning. We were all just a little late for the morning’s cheer class.

----<0>----

Speaking of cheer class, it had been Jenny’s idea and we all soon found out why. While all three of the girls had had dance lessons when they were small, Jenny had made it her passion. She was light years ahead of us all, and me in particular, when it came to dance steps and moves. Having taken cheer lessons the summer before, she was instantly the head of the class. Apparently she had been practicing on her own all the prior year. We struggled to keep up with her. Many an afternoon was spent on the tiny back lawn of the condo practicing our cheers. Jenny was quite the taskmaster. The results were satisfying. When it came to doing splits, I was thankful for my young limber female body. I could never have done that as a male.

"And One!" counted Jenny as we prepared to do a basic jump.

We all positioned our feet together with our arms by our sides.

"And Two!" we clasped our hands briefly then quickly raised our arms, not quite in unison, into the high V position in preparation for our jump.

"And Three!" we bent our knees at the same time as we swung our arms down and crossed them in front of our knees at the wrist.

"And Jump!" Up into the air we all went, trying our best to do the most basic of cheer jumps, the spread eagle.

It was a disaster. I didn’t get high enough, which resulted in a bad landing. Susie was very enthusiastic in the jump but totally missed her landing and ended up on her butt. Kelley sort of did it, but she was tentative and did not spread eagle nearly as much as Jenny did. Only Jenny stuck her landing.

There were giggles all around at the awkwardness of the attempt.

We had finished only two cheer lessons by this point, and things were looking hopeless for three members of the group.  Well, at least two of us. Kelley did show some promise.

Jenny looked at us for a moment, waiting for the giggles to subside, before giving us encouragement. "That was better than last time, girls. Remember to land with your feet together and knees bent with your arms down and wrists crossed. Once you stick your landing then stand up on the next count, moving your arms to your sides.

"Let’s get in position and try again."

And we did. Over and over again until Jenny was satisfied. Kelley picked it up the fastest. Susie and I, not so fast, but we did eventually get it - sort of.

Then we move on to the next jump. And the next one. Until we had half a dozen jumps down cold.

Then there were the basic moves. High V, low V, touchdown, low touchdown, daggers, punch, etc. The moves weren’t to bad. It was putting them together into a cheer that was the challenge. Timing and coordination were everything. Oh, and keeping the moves sharp and our lines straight were also hard to do. There is a lot to remember to pull off a good cheer.

My respect for cheerleaders went up considerably as the summer wore on.

----<0>----

The sailing lessons went well too. This was my area of expertise. Fortunately all the girls engaged rather quickly. This group of girls liked a mental challenge and sailing keeps the mind sharp. By the end of the summer, they all had the basics down. We joined a small local yacht club that had regular dinghy races, and provided the boats. The girls were quickly out performing many of the regulars.

After talking with Tom and Sandra, I bought four Optimist sailing dinghies that the girls and I used from Tom’s dock. We would regularly challenge each other to races, which greatly enhanced our proficiency. One of our favorite games was sailing tag, where we played a simple game of tag, but with the boats. The game gave lots of incentive to improve sailing skills and strategy. There were several Optimist races within reasonable driving distance that we participated in. One or more of our families often came along and we would make a day of it. Sandra never missed a race and was our biggest cheerleader.

"Oh crap!" Kelley grumbled as Susie shouted "You’re it" with glee after gently bumping Kelley’s boat with hers. With giggles and laughter, Jenny and I beat to windward to gain an advantage over Kelley. There was a moderate wind which made the sailing enjoyable. We had a restricted operating area to keep participants from dispersing too much. If you went out of bounds, you became ‘it’. The restricted area meant that Kelley wouldn’t be ‘it’ for long.

It would seem that sailing brought out a rather competitive streak in the normally mild mannered Susie. Her personality changed when she grabbed a tiller. I remember wondering what kind of monster would be unleashed when she finally got a drivers license.

Susie also became the best sailor of the Posse as the years went by.

We would graduate to Lasers in the coming years and Susie and I became serious challengers in regional and national high school sail racing.

Tom and Sandra also got into the act. Sailing would become a favorite family activity, just as it had been for my parent's family. I talked Tom into dropping over $120,000 on a J/88 racing boat that we also used as a daysailer for family outings. The girls and I would successfully race the boat as an all girl crew in offshore races during our high school years.

We did a few bareboat charters in the Caribbean over the years for family winter vacations. It was an awesome way for the family to bond. I also like the warm, clear water and the many snorkeling opportunities.

----<0>----

By mid-summer I was starting to enjoy the lack of responsibility of teen life again. That was until my new parent’s exercised their rights one night after I got home later than I normally did. It was an evening when I was making use of my driving privileges. Both of them were waiting for me when I rolled in around 11 PM one Friday night. Neither of them looked happy.

"Andi," Sandra opened the conversation, "Where have you been? We’ve been worried about you. We tried calling and texting you and you didn’t answer."

Tom just looked at me with an expectant expression.

"I was with my girlfriends," I told them.

"Where, exactly?" Tom asked sternly.

"We went to see Despicable Me at the movie earlier," I told them. "I had turned off my phone and forgot to turn it back on. Sorry. After the movie we went for ice cream then to Susie’s house for a while. On the way home, I dropped by the store for a few supplies."

I pulled some tampons out of a carrier bag to show them.

"Can I see the receipt please?" Sandra asked holding her hand out.

I provided that and she looked at the time stamp. She showed it to Tom.

"It looks legitimate," She informed him.

"What’s the big deal?" I asked a little miffed. "I can take care of myself. It’s like you don’t trust me."

"The big deal is," Tom started, "that, as far as the world is concerned, you are a twelve-year-old girl wandering around by herself well after dark. In most circles, that is considered an unsafe situation. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d checked in or answered our messages. We called around to your friend's homes and were told that you left Susie's an hour ago. It shouldn't have taken this long to come straight home. We were worried sick about what might have happened to you and were on the verge of calling the police for help locating you."

Sandra wrapped me in hug, "Andi, I don’t know what we’d do if something happened to you. It would break my heart, girlfriend. I love you and we are responsible for you now. You agreed to that. From now on, we want you to let us know where you are at all times. We want to know who you are with and what you are doing. And we want you home no later than 9 PM unless you have permission to do otherwise."

I got angry and pushed her away. With my fists on my hips I informed them. "I may look like one, but I am NOT a twelve-year-old. I know how to stay out of trouble."

"I don’t think that you do," Tom replied. "I don’t think you understand how the uninformed world views you. All anyone sees is the pretty, intelligent, and very adorable, and extremely vulnerable, twelve-year-old girl. I recall that you complained that you were ignored by the adults at the barbecue. That’s because of how the world sees you. When did you last include a kid in your adult conversations before the change?"

He had a point there, but I wasn’t ready to concede the point.

"Andi, sweetheart," Sandra picked up were Tom left off. They made a great team. "As you seem to have forgotten, there are a lot of bad people in the world and, as Tom said, you are extremely vulnerable now that you are a young girl. It’s not your fault. It’s just the way things are."

"I know that," I tell them. "I am careful. You have to have a little trust in me."

"We do trust you," Tom said, "We don’t trust the rest of the world. We want you to be safe."

He gave Sandra a worried look before continuing.

"You aren’t going to like the restrictions, but we think they are necessary." He said.

"You’re right," I replied with a touch of anger. "I don’t like them."

Sandra interceded, "What time do your girlfriends have to be home?"

I was surprised that I didn’t know the answer to that question. We’d always gotten parent’s permission before doing anything. I guess that I just assumed that I was exempt.

"I see your point," I admitted, letting a little heat out of my anger. "I guess that we always have parent’s permission for whatever we do."

"That’s what we are asking of you, girlfriend," Sandra says gathering me into another hug. "I love you and worry about you."

"We love you, Andi," Tom says. "I didn’t realize how much until we were afraid that you’d come to some kind of harm."

That was the first time that Tom had admitted any kind of feelings for me. Wow, I recall thinking that I must have really worried them.

I had put my arms around both of them and said, "Thanks for worrying about me. I love you guys too. I am sorry to have worried you. I won’t do it again."

Tom had then cleared his throat as he prepared to say something that I just knew that I wasn’t going to like.

He stuck his hand out and said, "Your car keys please. You are grounded for the weekend for scaring your ‘mother’ and I to near death."

"But…" I start to argue.

"It’s in the agreement, sweetie," Sandra reminded me.

Reluctantly, I handed over the keys.

I have to admit, however, it turned out to be a great weekend. We spent it together doing family things. Tom only snuck off to his lab once all weekend. I did have to cancel my plans with the girls though.

----<0>----

As summer wound down, I had changed my school plans. Instead of going to the private school recommended by my mother, I decided to join the rest of the girls at my mother’s public middle school. The same middle school that I had attended the first time around. My plan was to drive to my condo each morning and catch the bus to school with my three girlfriends.

My new parents had other plans. Sandra decided to take me to school each morning instead. Tom would pick me up after school when he was in town. Otherwise, I would take the school bus to the condo and Sandra would pick me up from there on her way home.

I wasn’t sure how we were going to justify my enrollment in the school, given my true age and the fact that I had already graduated. Fortunately I have a well connected and creative mother. It turns out that the school district had a policy in place for visiting exchange students. By stretching the rules a lot I was admitted, under special dispensation, as a ‘visiting’ student. This meant that I was not really considered a diploma seeking student, but records were kept anyway. I agreed to pay a generous tuition for taking up space unnecessarily in the state funded school, which helped to smooth the feathers of some people in the administration who didn’t feel kindly towards the plan. Mom had put her good reputation with the district on the line or none of this would have happened.

In retrospect, getting accepted into the private school would have been much easier, as we would not have had to deal with the public school bureaucracy. The private school’s main concern was that I have the financial resources to cover their exorbitant fees, which was not a problem now that I was a member of a very wealthy family.

The girls were ecstatic when I told them the news.

"That is totally like the best news ever," Kelley grinned.

"Yes!" Jenny agreed, "We will be together. Just imagine what it will be like when we all make the cheer squad."

Susie rolled her eyes, "It is great news, but Jenny, get real. We are not all going to make the cheer squad."

"We so are," Jenny disagreed. "We are a team. Like, all for one and one for all, or something like that. We just need to work harder to make it happen."

Susie and I had shared a knowing glance. We both knew that there is no way that either of us would make the squad. We were not bad, but we were not good either. We felt that Jenny was a shoo in and that Kelley would have a good shot. Unless they started taking girls with two left feet and uncoordinated arms, Susie and I didn't stand much of a chance of making the squad.

"Do you think that your grandmother can get us in all the same classes?" Susie tried to change the subject. We had decided to refer to my real parents as grandparents. It would make things easier. "It is going to be so weird not being in the same class all day."

I shrugged my shoulders, "I don't know for sure, but I doubt it. Hopefully she can help us get lockers close to each other."

Kelley pulled me into a hug, "I am so happy that you are joining us."

----<0>----

By the end of July, Sandra was looking a bit off most mornings. It turned out that she developed a rather extreme case of morning sickness. Tom, like most new fathers-to-be, was clueless on how to help. So was I. Sandra glared at him a few times when he did try to help.

"This is your fault," she grumbled at him one morning as we were getting breakfast.

"Actually," coming to Tom’s defense, I corrected her, "I think it’s your fault. You’re the one who wanted a baby so badly."

She just glared at me. Tom look gave me an appreciative smile when Sandra wasn’t looking.

After a few minutes, she clarified her accusation, "You did this to me."

"I did indeed," admitted Tom with a huge smile. "You asked for it. According to Grandma, we hit a home run on our first try. I think that she was right."

Sandra didn't know whether to scowl or grin. She settled for "humph!"

Later, when Sandra and I were alone, I observed, "He's pretty proud of his accomplishment."

She rolled her eyes. "Something about impregnating a woman validates the male ego."

"Something about not impregnating your wife is hard on the male ego" I sadly pointed out.

She hugged me, "Good thing you don't have a male ego anymore."

"I don't have a bat anymore either." I said mournfully. "Maybe having a bigger bat makes all the difference in hitting a home run."

"Trust me." She assured me. "You have something better now. You have the home plate."

"How would you know that it is better?" I snorted. "That’s all you’ve ever had."

"Well," she grinned, "think about it. As a guy you had to perform. As a woman, if you want to, you can please your partner without much effort. The best sex is really about the emotional connection more than the physical. A woman can have a good sexual experience without actually having a climax. The experience is mostly about expressing love and developing closeness with your man. An orgasm is a bonus when it happens.

"Remember the times that I wore you out and it took awhile for you to recharge? Also, when we were having daily sex trying to have a baby and the romance was gone, we had to work at getting you going. Girls don’t have that problem. We may not always achieve orgasm but we can always have sex.

"As near as I can tell, female orgasms are much more intense and longer lasting than a male’s. Someday you will have to tell me who has the better orgasm. And for a woman there’s no recharge cycle so multiple orgasms are very doable. Once I get going, I like to keep going. Males, on the other hand, just shoot and are done. They typically just fall asleep as soon as they are done."

I remembered being guilty as charged.

"Women have breasts as a pleasure center," she continued. "Men don’t.

"I could go on about how nice it feels to have the man you love inside you," she continues dreamily, "and the feel of him sliding in and out. Or about how fantastic it can feel when he fondles and licks your breasts when you are aroused. Or how you feel as if you’ve done something wonderful for your man when he tenses and releases. And more, but that’s probably too much information for a twelve-year-old girl. I can’t imagine that the sexual experience is so all encompassing for a man as it is for a woman."

"I will have to take your word for it." I said blushing more than I should. "As you pointed out, I am a little young, physically, to test the theory."

"Good plan." She agreed. "Take it from me, it's best with that special man. You should wait for him. I've been lucky to have married two of the best. The best sex happens when both partners are more intent on pleasing the other than in pleasing themselves and that comes from a loving emotional connection."

Later that night I decided to partially test the theory with a little self stimulation. I had been doing a fairly thorough investigation of my new genitals as the changes occurred, but had avoided arousing myself up to that point. My field test that night indicated that maybe Sandra was on to something. Being the catcher at home plate just might be better than being the batter. It is at least its equal. The true test, I suppose, will be if I ever do it with a man.

This thought should have been repulsive, but it was not. I found that I actually looked forward to the day. Just not anytime soon!

----<0>----

I had heard that living with a pregnant woman can be a bit challenging. First of all, Tom and I had to learn more than a little diplomacy. It wasn’t hard to set her off. She wasn’t always the pleasant person that we both knew and loved.

At the end of August, she had her first sonogram. The resulting grainy image of Sandra and Tom’s little bean was posted on the kitchen refrigerator door for all to see. Sandra would stop to stare it every time she went through the kitchen. She’d reach out and touch the image gingerly with a big smile on her face.

By the time the daily nausea passed in mid September, she was her happy self again though she was prone to the occasional unannounced meltdown. I would catch her feeling her belly looking for signs of her precious burden when she thought no one was looking. In all, she was in seventh heaven over being pregnant.

Somewhere near the end of September, she was beaming when she announced that she could feel the baby bump. They had learned, by then, that they were having a son. Tom was pretty excited about that.

Tom, to give him credit, was a very attentive husband. He did his best to help Sandra through the pregnancy. When Sandra became a new, unpredictable, person as her hormones went wild he stood by her. Foods that she liked before now made her nauseous. Foods that were acceptable one day were disgusting the next. Tom would try to find out what she did like on any given day and get it for her.

She would occasionally have a meltdown and cry with little or no provocation. Tom would just hold her and do his best to comfort her.

She started to question her ability to be a good parent. She worried that the baby wouldn’t like her. Tom worried about the same issues. I had to reassure both of them that everything would work out. As her best girlfriend, she would express these worries frequently and I did my best to listen and reassure.

In the first trimester of the pregnancy Sandra tired easily and would often go to bed soon after eating dinner. This gave Tom and I plenty of time to work together on his designs and my homework.

Tom and Sandra hadn’t really had time to get to know each other as well as they should have before getting pregnant. Poor Tom, I am sure, was wondering where the woman he knew before the wedding had gone. Nevertheless he hung in there. I did reassure him that the woman we both loved would be back when this was all over. At least, that's what I had heard about pregnant women.

As the pregnancy entered the final trimester, Tom and Sandra went shopping for baby clothes, furniture, toys, etc. They spent hours together discussing names. I was always on the periphery of these discussions, acting as a sounding board for both of them. I also helped with painting and setting up the nursery.

Tom went out of his way to pamper his wife. He made sure that there were romantic dinners, back massages, foot rubs, and more.

I had to hand it to Tom. He was probably better at helping Sandra through pregnancy than I would have been. He was the definition of patience. I know that it was hard on him, but he rarely complained. He was pretty excited about becoming a father. His love and devotion to Sandra was sweet to see.

When the baby finally arrived in March, all the challenges were forgotten.

Little Thomas Andrew Broussard was born on a cold night during a blizzard in March of 2011. Yes, he was named after both of Sandra’s husbands. I actually drove them to the hospital in Tom's 4x4 SUV while Tom tried to comfort Sandra. He didn't do a very good job as I am pretty sure that he was a bit scared himself. I skipped school the next day to stay with the little family at the hospital.

The first time I saw little Tom junior, he was snuggled up to his mother’s breast for one of his first meals, with a very happy Tom senior beaming at his wife and son. When I saw the joy and wonder on Sandra’s face and the love that Tom had for his little family I knew that everything was right in the world. The magic knew what it was doing.

When I first held little Tom, I felt a stirring. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. I felt it get stronger every time I got to hold little Tom. I knew then that, when the time is right, I wanted a baby of my own. I started to understand Sandra’s compulsion.

Little Tom was only eight months old when Sandra announced that she was pregnant again. It wasn’t long before the ultrasounds showed that she was pregnant with twin girls. Melanie and Charlotte were named after their two grandmothers when they were born in the summer of 2012. They were beautiful babies.

The twins were also hard to tell apart. I recommended that one of them get a small tattoo on her wrist, but the parents shot down the idea. I still think that it would have saved a lot of heartache over the years. When the twins later learned to play swapping games to mess with people, I thought that maybe they should have had their names tattooed on their foreheads!

When they were four years old, Melanie took a fall and cut her right elbow, requiring stitches. She ended up with a small scar there. If there were any doubts of who you were dealing with, all you have to do is ask to see her right elbow. You have to know what you were looking for, but if you do, you can get a positive ID. As the girls get older, I expect that Charlotte will find a way to duplicate the scar.

Fortunately for us, if you lived with them long enough, there were also tells in their personalities that make it possible to distinguish between the two little adorable imps.

Now, at seven years old, the two of them have already perfected Daddy control through their innate feminine wiles. Tom is in deep doo doo for the next eleven years or so. I almost feel sorry for the guy. I just wish that I could have been half as effective, as a teen girl, as the twins are as young girls! Fortunately for Tom, Sandra is there to protect him - most of the time.

I have noticed, that Big and Little Tom will often sneak off to go fishing or to do some other 'guy' things to get away from the otherwise estrogen saturated household.

Grandma Broussard’s prophecy had been fulfilled.

Sandra was content and happy. We all were, and still are.

-----<0>----

Sandra ended up resigning from the investment firm six months after marrying Tom.

She had effectively been filling the role of CEO, behind the scenes, for the new Broussard Industries as Tom’s business began its rapid growth. After she resigned her investment job, she formally took control of the company’s business operations. Her contacts and marketing skills added a dimension to the business that had been missing. Sandra was a genius at handling the management of the business. Tom came to depend on her more and more as the business outgrew his studio and they started serious manufacturing and marketing of some of his innovative products.

The two of them were an inseparable team. His technical vision and her business savvy were a match made in business heaven. They were each half of an unbeatable whole. After a few years they even started completing each other's sentences. It was scary how in tune they were, not to mention annoying. It did not take long for Tom’s hundred million dollars to multiply into something much greater under Sandra’s effective management of the business. As Pete observed during our first date, Sandra is a force of nature.

One of the best financial decisions that I ever made was to invest a portion of my millions in the family enterprise. My share of the profits from the business plus the royalties from the patents with my name on them caused my net worth to steadily grow as well. I also got paid for the time I put in on Brossard Industries projects. Unless the world markets totally collapse, or Broussard Industries goes out of business, or I go on a real bender, I don't think that I will have a problem with lack of funds in this lifetime. I suppose that I could retire now and be a beach bunny if I want to. Fortunately, having met a few beach bunnies, that fate doesn't interest me at all.

The design studio at the house has remained the heart of Broussard Industry’s Research and Development efforts, even after they opened a larger research facility nearby. Over the years, I spent many hours in the studio working around my schooling, college courses and extracurricular activities. Even working part time, I still was able to contribute to the growth of the company through research and development.

It was exciting.

----<0>----

If I thought that living with a pregnant woman was a challenge during Sandra’s first pregnancy, I soon found out that dealing with a couple of hundred girls going through puberty all in one place was probably worse, if not its equal. Throw in approximately the same number of boys going through their own puberty and you have a real hotbed of hormonal emotional turmoil. I don’t know how my mother had dealt with kids in this state of being for her whole career. I NEVER want to be a middle school teacher.

 

NotExpected 19

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn If I thought that living with a pregnant woman was a challenge during Sandra’s first pregnancy, I soon found out that dealing with a couple of hundred girls going through puberty all in one place was probably worse, if not its equal. Throw in approximately the same number of boys going through their own puberty and you have a real hotbed of hormonal emotional turmoil. I don’t know how my mother had dealt with kids in this state of being for her whole career. I NEVER want to be a middle school teacher.

Chapter 19

"Do you get everything?" Sandra inquired.

"Yes, mother!" I rolled my eyes.

"Money for lunch? All your books? Schedule? Gym clothes? Tampons & pads?" She got more specific.

"Check, Check, Check, Check, and Check," I patiently responded. "And a spare pair of panties that you insisted that I bring. I even brought in a little makeup, just in case."

"You know that you’re not allowed makeup in 7th grade," She cautioned me.

"I know," I grinned, "I was just winding you up. This isn’t the first time that I’ve been to school you know."

"It is the first time that I’ve gotten to take my little girl to school," she mentioned.

"I can tell," I replied dryly, patting her on the arm, "It will be all right, mother. You’ll see."

"Don’t get smart with me, young lady," She laughed. "Don’t forget that Tom is picking you up from school today."

"I got it, Sandra," I told her as I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before hopping out of her car, "I love you. Now scoot or you’ll be late for work."

Kelley, Susie, and Jenny were waiting for me outside the school. They had all ridden the bus together. For some unknown reason, we had coordinated outfits for the first day of school. It was decided that we wear similar jeans and tops, which we had purchased on a recent shopping trip together.

"Lucky girl," Susie sighed as she watched Sandra leave in her brand-new Mercedes E-class sedan, a wedding present from Tom. "That’s some car."

"Who’s lucky?" Kelley poked Susie in the ribs, "Andi or her mother?"

"Both," Susie sighed again. "That’s a much nicer ride than the bus. And she didn’t have to put up with that disgusting boy from down the street."

I heard all about the trials of yellow school bus transportation as we entered the school and almost ran into the Principal. My real mother. She was out greeting the arriving students.

"Well hello girls," She greeted us with a smile. "Are you ready for a great learning experience?"

We all rolled our eyes as we responded in unison, "Yes, Principal."

Looking at me in particular, she said, "Andi, please let me know what I can do to help you adjust. Feel free to talk to me anytime."

"Yes, Principal," I politely responded. "Thank you."

I wanted to give her a hug, but we had decided to keep our relationship quiet from the other students.

As we walked deeper into the bowels of the school in search of our lockers, Jenny asked with a touch of awe, "How cool is it that your grandmother is your Principal?"

"I’ve been through this before," I responded. "She was a gym teacher when I was here last time." The nice thing about it then, was that the fact that my mother was a teacher at the school had kept the bullies off my back, mostly.

"She even coached the cheerleaders for a while," I let Jenny know.

"Really?" she was surprised. "How come she didn't coach you?"

I gave her a look. I am pretty sure that the other girls never thought of my past. They were caught up in the here and now.

"Oh yeah," she said. "I forgot."

By pulling a few strings, we had been able to get book lockers (thanks Mom!) adjacent to each other.

As we were setting up our lockers, a group of three girls walked up to us. They were all wearing skirts that challenged the school’s restriction on short skirts, tight sweaters that showed off obviously enhanced busts, nails painted with matching polish, heeled sandals, and enough jewelry to sink a battleship. They had obviously spent hours on their hair. If you looked closely, they were wearing banned makeup, but it was subtle.

One of them snarled at Jenny, "So it’s the cheerleader wanna be. You should just give it up, loser. Nobody wants a girl like you on the squad."

"And what kind of girl is that, Amanda?" Jenny calmly replied when she turned to face Amanda.

"One who comes from a nothing family and doesn’t have any fashion sense," Amanda said aloofly while looking at all of us in disdain. "A loser."

Jenny's family, like the rest of the Posse's, was a typical upper middle class working family. They were comfortable but not wealthy. I couldn't see what Amanda was getting at.

Jenny stepped up so that she was nose to nose with Amanda, "Amanda, give it up. We will settle this during tryouts. Why don’t you sluts get to class before you’re late."

I thought that we were about to see a fight, but Amanda and her two sidekicks just stuck their noses up in the air and stalked off down the hall.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

Susie answered the question. "We’ve grown up with Amanda and her friends. They’ve always been a pain. Amanda’s parents are both lawyers and very wealthy. She seems to think that entitles her to special treatment."

Jenny snorted, "I think, Andi, that you can one up her when it comes to wealthy parents. You are down to earth and can be glad that you didn’t grow up as a spoiled rich girl. It’s too bad that Amanda is really good at cheerleading. She has been working with a private coach for the last year. There is no doubt that she will make the squad."

Susie agreed, "She may make the squad, but so will you, Jenny."

Jenny just smiled, "I think that we all will. You all have gotten pretty good over the summer."

"There’s no way that I’m trying out," I said with a degree of horror.

"You so are," Kelley grinned. "We’re best friends and we’ll be doing this together."

The first class warning bell rang.

"We’ll be talking about this at lunch," I warned my friends. "There’s no way I want to try out."

"You’ll love it," Jenny grinned at me as she left for class. "See you at lunch."

Unfortunately, we were not able to coordinate our schedules except that we all were in the same lunch period and one other class together. We did have other classes together, but not as a whole group.

My first class of the day was Language Arts. This course turned out to be one of my more ‘difficult’ subjects. Fortunately, Kelley was also in the class and she was a wiz at reading and writing. She was excited about some of the literature we studied that term and thought that the writing assignments were a piece of cake. I was certainly glad when we started studying together. While I have always loved to read, I had a geek’s abhorrence of writing. I did get fairly good at writing before I graduated from college the first time but Susie helped me to overcome my fear of composition to the point that I started to enjoy it by the time we got out of high school.

Next up was a Math class. The class covered very basic geometry and algebra that term. The class was a no brainer for me. Neither were the other math classes that we took through our middle and high school careers. I was pretty sure that I had a better math background than most of the teachers we had over the years, having had three semesters of Calculus plus a semester of Differential Equations for my Information Technology degree. I was also using that advanced math in my Computer Engineering courses. Both Jenny and Susie claimed to find math to be their most difficult subject. I became the designated math tutor and both girls stayed near the top of their math classes as Kelley and I worked with them.

The Social Studies class covered American History that term. This was another subject that I had taken before. I had forgotten more than I remembered from my prior experience. I was never ahead of the class in this subject, though what I remembered from my high school and college history classes gave me an edge.

I had Physical Education with Jenny just before lunch. We were assigned lockers and had a general orientation. Looking around the locker room, it occurred to me that I was about to live every teen boy’s dream of seeing a bunch of naked and/or scantily clad girls in the locker room. Unfortunately, I was going to be just one of the girls. I had everything that they did. We didn’t dress out the first day but would start the next day. The coaching staff also told us about extracurricular sports opportunities and invited us to try out for the various teams and squads. I had started growing again after the wedding and had added an inch and a few pounds to my stature over the summer, making me one of the taller girls in the class. I was also just starting to develop a respectful set of feminine curves.

One of the coaches came over to talk to me at the end of class. She introduced herself as the volleyball coach.

"Have you given any thought to trying out for volleyball?" She asked.

"Not really," I admitted. "My girlfriends and I were thinking of cheerleading. We’ve been taking classes for cheer all summer."

She looked at me closely, "I don’t see you as one of those airhead cheerleaders. You really should give volleyball a try. You look to be in good shape and should do well."

"I’ll think about it," I promised her.

At lunchtime we found an empty table in the lunchroom and compared notes on the morning. Jenny pulled out some applications for cheer tryouts and passed them around.

"You all need to fill these out and have your parents sign them," she instructed us. "There will be a clinic after school all next week that we need to attend. They pick the squad at the end of the clinic."

"Jenny," I began, "you know that you’re one of my very best friends, right?"

"Andi," she looked at me sternly, "I thought that we were going to do this as a group."

"I know that’s what all of you want," I apologized, "but I suck at cheer. I have two left feet and my arms always go the wrong way. There’s no way that I’ll make the squad and one of the coaches asked me to try out for volleyball instead. That seems more my speed." I didn’t mention the coach’s comment about the intellect of cheerleaders.

"You don’t suck at cheer," Kelley corrected me, "but you do struggle a bit. I bet that you’ll be better than half the girls that show up to the clinic."

"Yes, you won’t be the worst there," agreed Susie. "But, realistically, Jenny is the only one of us with a real shot at making the squad. We still need to be there to support her against that bitch Amanda."

"Then what are you going to do if you don’t make the squad?" I asked Susie.

"Get my homework done?" she shrugged.

"There’s also soccer and cross country," I mentioned.

"Not interested," Susie replied.

"Me either," agreed Kelley.

When I told the volleyball coach that I was still going to do cheer tryouts, she said that I could try out for the volleyball team later if I didn’t make the squad. There would always be room for talented players.

The first class after lunch was a Geography class. The material was not much different than what I took the first time around and I actually recalled a lot of my past learning as the class progressed. What was different this time around was the teacher. All the girls in the class mooned over the young man teaching the class. He was only two years out of college and, I admit, quite handsome in a suave sort of way. Amanda happened to be in the class and she seemed to be totally smitten by the young teacher. At the start of the term, I don’t think that she heard a word of the lessons. It impacted her grade too.

I had chosen a Life Sciences course for my science class. This turned out to be much different than the physical sciences that I had taken in my first pass through seventh grade. I found it interesting, especially the unit on sex education.

I had to sign up for an art class that term. While I had been leaning towards photography, the rest of the girls wanted to take the Introduction to Fashion Design course. Somehow, we all ended up in the same class. This class definitely expanded my horizons. It turned out to be my most difficult class that term, probably because I had never been exposed to the topic in my prior education, either in or out of school.

"Are you riding home with us?" Susie asked as we put our things away in our lockers at the end of the day.

"No," I informed her. "Tom is picking me up."

"We are going to get together at my house to study once we get home," Kelley said. "I wish that you could join us."

I thought about that as they headed off to catch the bus and I went to find my ride.

"How was the first day of seventh grade?" Tom asked as I settled into his car.

"Fine," I admitted, "it’s pretty strange being back there again. Some of the other girls are scary, but I’m with my friends, so it’s not too bad. By the way, I’ll need to have you sign a permission slip for cheer tryouts."

He glanced at me with an amused smile. "You. A cheerleader? I never would have guessed. I didn’t think that you took those cheer lessons seriously."

"What!?" I exclaimed indignantly, "You don’t think that I’m cute enough to be a cheerleader?"

"Oh, you’re cute enough," he admitted, "In fact, you’re the best looking seventh grader I’ve ever seen. That has me worried, by the way. No. The problem is that you seem to be too smart to be a cheerleader."

"That’s about what the volleyball coach told me," I told him. "Anyway, I don’t expect to make the squad. I’m just trying out as a sign of support for my friends."

"Why don’t you try something else?" He asked.

"I will after I don’t make the cheer squad," I explained. "The volleyball coach asked me to try out for that."

He just shook his head.

"Girls!" He said, "I never will figure them out. If you’re going to end up playing volleyball, why try out for cheerleading? You will lose a week of volleyball practice."

I just shrugged, "I am finding that girls are more interested in supporting each other than boys are. I kind of like it. Volleyball will be there after I get done with cheer tryouts. I’m told that they have a hard time filling out the teams.

"Speaking of supporting each other," I changed direction. "The girls want me to spend time studying with them after school. I think I can use it, particularly for the fashion design course. My background in math and science would help them too. What do you think of me going to the condo after school on the days that we don’t have after school practices? We can use the condo as a study hall."

I could see that the idea seemed to rest well with him.

"Sounds good to me," he admitted. I was pretty sure that he liked the idea of not taking a break in the middle of the afternoon to collect me. "Sandra could pick you up there on her way home from work. Let’s talk about it tonight."

"Now," he changed topics, "We are having trouble with our latest project. It seems like a computer problem. Do you think could take a look at it tonight?"

"Sure Daddy," I said in my best little girl voice, "just as soon as I get my homework done."

He rolled his eyes, "Don’t get cute with me little girl."

I just gave him my best attempt at an innocent look.

"Learning a few feminine wiles, are you?" he grimaced. "You are good, but you don't have it down to perfection yet. My sister could wrap our father around her little finger with a single glance."

"Mine too," I told him. "My dad would be putty in her hands."

"I am afraid of what you will be capable of when you master the techniques," he said with a frown. "You are almost too cute for words now. Couple that with wiles and you will be dangerous. I’ve been told that raising daughters can be a challenge for fathers. I can see why. It is hard to be firm in the face of a cute girl with pleading puppy dog eyes."

I laughed. "I’ll keep working on it. You better learn to deal with it. I think that you have two more daughters in your future."

He just groaned.

----<0>----

Later, during our family dinner, Sandra agreed to the study plan. I called the girls and we agreed to start meeting the next day at my condo. We would be riding home together on the school bus.

Over the next six years the girls and I met at the condo most afternoons and many evenings after school working together to help each other succeed academically. We also supported each other through the joys and heartaches of teen life in our private clubhouse. Each girl had a key to the condo and they would often study there even when I couldn't. At first, our parents were worried about our unsupervised time but as the excellent results started to manifest themselves in near perfect scores and grades their concerns were allayed. We played off each other's strengths and each of us were more successful than we would have been on our own.

And we had fun too. It wasn't all serious study time. Middle school homework did not prove to be much of a challenge when you put your mind to it. While my most challenging class was fashion design that first term the other girls helped me through it, with Susie being the recognized expert. In turn, I helped them decipher the mysteries of math and science. Kelley coached us on language arts. Jenny turned out to be a history fanatic and kept us up to speed in that area.

Throughout my middle and high school years, most of my evenings and weekends were spent at home with my adoptive family. I spent much of the time working on my college coursework, helping Tom with various projects, and best of all talking with Sandra when Tom was otherwise occupied or traveling. Sandra helped me navigate the treacherous waters of teen girl life. She would help me deal with mean girls, predatory boys, difficult social situations, self-esteem issues and other things all girls are faced with as they learn what they need to know to be well adjusted adult women. When the inevitable issues of dealing with husbands surfaced from time to time, I tried to draw on my past experience to help her understand Tom better. I also helped her with my new siblings as they came along. While the girls of the Posse were a tight knit group, Sandra was always my BFF.

As expected, I ended up on the volleyball team instead of the cheer squad. Both Jenny and Kelley made the squad. Susie seemed content to have her afternoons free. She would come support us at the games.

Amanda and one of her sidekicks also made the squad. The cheer coaches quickly picked up on the friction between Jenny and Amanda and put them both on notice that if they couldn’t be teammates, both of them would be dropped from the squad. Which would be too bad since they were the best of the bunch. It seems that their rivalry was driving them to work hard to outperform the other. While they never became true friends, a mutual respect for each other’s cheer abilities was developed and a truce of sorts stayed in place all the way through High School.

Amanda was always a stuck-up rich girl and did her best to stir the cauldron of emotions that are a part of teen girl life. She wasn’t a nice person and more than one girl’s self-esteem was damaged by her emotional bullying. I was not pleased with Amanda’s antics, so I tried, over the years, to balance Amanda’s acid wherever possible by trying to comfort and build up the victims of her arrogance. I made a lot of new friends, both girls and boys, in the process. My maturity, and suggestions from Sandra, helped me to be immune to Amanda’s tricks.

----<0>----

Turning the corner in a back hallway one day on the way to the lunch room, the girls and I came upon a scene that got my ire up.

Amanda and her two sidekicks had a plainly dressed tall scrawny underdeveloped girl backed into a corner. The girl looked like she was about to burst into tears. While Amanda’s little group did not appear to be physically threatening, what I heard must really be damaging the girl’s self esteem.

"... and your clothes," Amanda was saying with disdain. "Did you get those from the Salvation Army? My God, you don’t even know how to brush your hair. How does it feel to be a loser? I bet your parents don’t even care enough about you to get you decent shoes."

The girl’s hair was unruly and her tennis shoes did have a few holes in them. Her clothes were ill fitting and old.

Amanda and her sidekicks were so intent on destroying the self-esteem of the girl that they did not notice us come up behind them.

"What’s the matter, Amanda?" I asked calmly with the rest of the girls arrayed behind me. "Are you feeling insecure again?"

"Go away loser," Amanda snarled at me. "Can’t you see that I’m busy here."

"And," I enquired, "exactly what are you being busy doing?"

"None of your business, loser," she snarled.

"I think that I will make it my business," I calmly informed her. I could sense some uneasiness from the girls behind me. I could also sense relief from the mousy girl in the corner.

"Go away loser," She threatened me, "or you will regret it."

"And why is that?" I asked. "Are you going to go around spreading rumors about me. Maybe that I used to be a man? Or that I’m really thirty-two years old? Or that I have some dread social disease? Who will believe you and what will that do to me if they do? Are you going to pull my hair and scratch my eyes out?"

"You are a freak," she declared looking at me as if I had lost my mind. "You are a loser. You didn’t even make the first cut for the cheer squad. And look at you - plain jeans and a T-shirt. Is that any way to make an impression?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "Maybe I am a freak, but that’s nothing new to me. I don’t think that it will get in the way of me being successful in school. And, most of the girls didn’t make the first cut. So what? It’s just not my sport. There are other things to be good at."

Amanda was getting really red in the face by this point. We had also attracted a group of interested onlookers.

"And my clothing selection," I continued. "Really? What’s that got to do with anything?"

"If you weren’t such a loser, Andi," she pointed out, "you could afford to be more fashionable."

I heard three snickers behind me at that comment. Apparently Amanda was not yet familiar with my fiscal situation. I wasn’t about to correct her impression either. She would hear about it soon enough without any help from me.

"I am as fashionable as I want to be," I shrugged. "Clothes don’t really matter, Amanda."

I pointed to my chest, "It’s what’s in here that counts. Unfortunately, it appears to me that you don’t have what it takes, so who is the loser?"

I think that she would have attacked me on the spot at this point if she could have. The growing crowd was not in her favor so she backed off.

"I sense that you’d like to scratch my eyes out, Amanda," I told her. "Just so you know, only losers resort to violence. It’s a sign that they don’t have any defense for their words or actions. So why don’t you just leave Christine here - It is Christine right?" I asked the girl, who nodded affirmatively, "Why don’t you just leave Christine alone and go home and kick your dog instead."

"This isn’t over, loser," Amanda snarled again as she turned to leave.

"Don’t mess with Christine again," I told her retreating back as she forced her way through the crowd, "or we will have this conversation again."

Christine gave me a hug after Amanda left and as the crowd dispersed.

The girls and I spent a few minutes with Christine trying to undo the damage to her self esteem that Amanda and her cronies had inflicted. We invited her to sit with us at lunch that day. After that, our lunch table became pretty popular, especially with the girls, and a few boys, that we had rescued from bullies. Christine did come from a low income family who had trouble making ends meet. Her clothes did come from charity shops and garage sales. She was already feeling inferior, making her a perfect target for Amanda’s bullying. We helped her to understand that economic status did not define a person’s value. She would always brighten up when I or one of the girls waved to her in the halls after that.

After a few more similar instances, other students started reporting bullying attempts to us and we’d seek out the victim and help them see the bullying for what it was. We’d also looked for opportunities to contain bullies as often as we could. Sandra and I researched bullying and techniques for containing it, with the help of my real mother, and I shared that information with the girls. We did a fairly good job of keeping bullying in check through our middle and high school years with the aid of my real mother and her staff.

After that first incident with Amanda, I heard whispers that I had been designated as the sheriff and the other girls as being my posse with the four of us riding to the rescue of bullying victims and to track down and confront the bullies. We were soon simply known as The Posse. We made a lot of friends, and a few enemies, along the way. We were also kept pretty busy during the middle school years. High school wasn't quite so bad.

Things did not always go smoothly for the Posse. The male bullies were harder to deal with as they were more prone to physical violence. There were a few instances of physical pushing or tripping by various bullies, but we had helped enough people that there was always someone there, boy and/or girl, to stand up for us when we needed the help. We also made sure that none of us ever went anywhere alone if it could be avoided. Having good friends helped to protect us.

On the volleyball front, though I started late that term, I was able to make a presence. I seemed to have a natural ability to anticipate moves by the opposition which made the coaches quite happy and helped us to win a lot of games. I could either be in the right place or direct my teammates to be ready during the games. All that leaping around in cheer practice also helped me in volleyball. It wasn’t long before I became Team Captain, a role I played through most of my middle and high school careers. My height was also a plus. By the time I reached high school I had grown to be 5’ 9", the same height as Sandra. We even started borrowing clothes from each other when I became the same size as her. The added height was enough to help me be a force to be reckoned with on the court. While not the tallest girl on the team, I was tall enough to be a threat and I was an awesome setter. I made lots of new friends on the various teams. We had a couple of bully wannabes on the team, but the real bullies, like Amanda, all gravitated towards the flashier sport of cheerleading. Kelley and Jenny had to deal with them more often than I did on my teams.

I tried my hand at basketball for a while. While I was okay at it, and made the school teams, volleyball was the sport where I really stood out.

Once we got a handle on the bullying, things smoothed out somewhat at the middle school. There was the occasional meltdown and/or confrontation among girls who were learning who they were and how to deal with monthly hormonal swings. We didn't have an answer for that. In fact, our little Posse had our own issues with hormonal meltdowns from time to time, but we were always able to work through it.

All in all, the emotional and social issues of middle and high school were the biggest challenges, which was why I stayed there in the first place. The school work, for the most part, required little effort. School would have been boring if it wasn't for my friends, volleyball, and the social challenges. I was glad that I had my college courses and work with Tom to challenge me intellectually during these years.

 

 

NotExpected 20

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn All in all, the emotional and social issues of middle and high school were the biggest challenges, which was why I stayed there in the first place. The school work, for the most part, required little effort. School would have been boring if it wasn't for my friends, volleyball, and the social challenges. I was glad that I had my college courses and work with Tom to challenge me intellectually during these years.

Chapter 20

Somewhere in eighth grade things got a little crazy. Or should I say that the Posse became more than a little boy crazy. Even I was sucked up into the morass to some extent.

One afternoon at the condo, Susie showed the first signs of boy crazy disease.

"OMG," she exclaimed excitedly once we were all safely inside the condo. "Did you see the Jones boy at lunch?"

Our female hormones had been busy in the prior year. We were all developing definite curves and had grown a couple of inches. Susie was the shortest of the Posse, but she had developed a rather healthy bust and enviable curves. She was already sporting a pair of C cup breasts. While she was the least athletic of the group, she did keep in shape for the sailing season. I had exercise equipment installed in the condo’s garage and we often spent time working out together, particularly in the off seasons.

Even I had expanded to tightly fill a B cup in the eighth grade. I would be buying new bras again when I graduated to a C cup as a freshman in high school. Fortunately, that’s as big as I was to get. By the middle of eighth grade, I had added two inches and fifteen pounds since my age regression stopped. Tom said that it was time to bring out the baseball bat as my curves would stop traffic. He expected to beating off the boys soon. I was sure that he was exaggerating, but I had to admit that I was looking pretty good.

On one family sailing vacation in the Caribbean while I was a Junior in high school, we had come across a photo shoot for Sports Illustrated’s annual swimsuit edition. One of the photographers saw me sunning myself wearing a bikini of the foredeck of the anchored rented sailboat. He motored out to see us and asked Tom and Sandra if he could do a few test shots of me on the deck. He was of the opinion that they could use me as one of the models in a future SI swimsuit shoot. I was flattered. Tom and Sandra, not so much. I don’t think that Sandra had ever seen the SI swimsuit edition, but Tom and I had. I was mildly interested in the offer, but Tom put his foot down. Hard.

I think that the direct quote is: "No daughter of mine is going to be featured nearly naked on the pages of Sports Illustrated."

The photographer was pretty sure that I would be a contender for the cover. That didn’t help his argument at all.

But I digress.

When Susie was over the moon for young Mr. Jones, we all admitted that we had seen him. He was hard not to notice. He was obviously smitten with our Susie and had made some awkward attempts to get her attention through some really stupid stunts. I remember doing the same thing when I was his age. It never worked for me. But then I’d been a skinny, pimply, geek. A social pariah.

"I think that he likes you," Jenny observed.

"I think that he’s pretty cute," Susie said fanning herself. "He’s on the football team."

I rolled my eyes.

"I think that he was just being stupid," Kelley gave her opinion. "I’ve seen him at the games. I think that he’s a bit full of himself just like all the other players on the team. There is no way that I would date a football player."

Fast forward one week.

"OMG," Susie exclaimed excitedly once we were all safely inside the condo after school. "The Roberts boy actually walked me to class after lunch!"

"We saw that," Kelley remarked dryly. "What happened to the Jones boy. I thought that you were in love with him."

"You were right," Susie admitted, "He is full of himself. But Carl Roberts is really nice, and a hunk too. Did you know that he lifts weights? He’s also has a cute butt."

Jenny rolled her eyes, "And so do all the other boys on the football team. They have something else in common: they are all jerks. I don't ever want to date one of them."

Fast forward another week.

"OMG," Susie exclaimed excitedly once we were all safely inside the condo after school.

"Not again," Jenny rolled her eyes. "Who is it this week?"

Susie huffed, "For that, I won’t tell you."

"Okay," Kelley said. "You can tell us next week when you fall for yet another guy."

Susie pouted at her.

"Let me guess," I ventured. "I saw Jimmy hold the door for you this morning. I’ll put my money on Jimmy."

Susie teared up, "You guys are so mean!"

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. "Sorry Susie, we all love you, but it’s a different guy every week. I think you need to take a deep breath next time you fall in love. I think that you need to learn how to control your hormones."

"It is Jimmy," Kelley stated, joining our hug. "Isn’t it?"

"Yes," Susie admitted, "He is so cute and he is not even a jock."

Rewind and repeat three times, once for each member of the Posse. None of us were immune. Even me, the thirty-three-year old former male. Female hormones are a powerful thing.

----<0>----

The school held an annual costume party/dance for the eighth graders after school on Halloween. At thirteen, we were all too young to actually date, but each of us had been asked - by boys! - if we would be there. Kelley had been asked by the infamous Jones boy and she actually seemed to be excited about it. We agonized over our costumes for the night, wondering what would impress the boys.

I have to admit that I actually got caught up in the excitement. I was flattered when two boys vied for my attention at the party. I thought that it might come to blows at one point. I couldn’t help thinking about how I was a nobody the last time I was in eighth grade. Now I have boys competing for my attention.

Tom had been a volunteer chaperone at the party and he watched me like a hawk. When things got tense between my suitors, he ambled over and took the two boys aside and had a heart-to-heart chat with them. I never did find out what he told them, but they instantly backed off and left me alone for the rest of the party.

"What did you say to those two boys?" I asked Tom on the way home from the party.

He gave a predatory smile and said, "I just explained The Facts of Life to them."

"Such as?" I asked with curiosity.

"I don’t think that you need to worry about those two young men anymore," He dodged the question.

"What if I want to worry about them?" I asked indignantly.

"You are too young to worry about boys," he said.

"I am thirty-three," I reminded him.

"Not in this context, sweetheart," he smiled at me.

In hindsight, he was right. I may have been thirty-three years old, but I had to learn how to deal with raging female hormones just the same as any other thirteen-year-old girl going through puberty. I had my own period of boy craziness that year, but after Tom had explained the Facts of Life to those two boys, word had spread that I was not to be messed with.

I still don’t know what he said to them but it must have been good.

----<0>----

When boy crazy disease struck me, Tom, Sandra, and I had a summit at one point where we discussed appropriate dating age. I was firmly convinced that, based on my thirty plus years of life experience that I could take care of myself as a girl age thirteen. Sandra pointed out that I did not have thirty years of experience with estrogen coursing through my body and that, like every other thirteen-year-old influenced by raging hormones, that I wouldn’t be ready for dating until I had learned to control them. For most girls, this is around sixteen. They ended up having to exercise their parental rights and put their foot down. I would not be allowed to date until girl age sixteen. After one particularly painful argument about dating, it suddenly occurred to me that I had thought, when the changes started, that I would never be interested in boys. How wrong had I been! I knew then that I had truly become the girl that Grandma Broussard’s magic had made me.

At the school's eighth grade Valentine’s party later that year Sandra was a volunteer chaperone. She was, at the time, the mother of a cute ten-month old boy and already pregnant with twin girls. I was now thirty-four years old, having had my fourteenth birthday party just after Christmas.

When I tried dancing a little too close with the captain of the basketball team, she took him aside and had her own little chat with him. I could see the blood drain from his face from across the gym as she was apparently explaining The Facts of Life. I didn’t see him again for the rest of the party and he avoided me the rest of the school year. Word spread, and if the boys weren’t afraid to court me before, they certainly were after that.

I really do want to know what Tom and Sandra said to those boys.

When I asked Sandra what she said, she repeated what Tom had said.

"I just explained The Facts of Life."

"But I’m thirty-four," I complained. "I can deal with it."

"Not in this context," she echoed Tom’s prior comment.

----<0>----

As we moved into high school, the other members of the Posse went through a succession of boyfriends. Kelley had the longest relationship of any of us when she dated that same boy for almost the entire Junior year. She was the first of the Posse to give up her virginity in response to her boyfriend's pressure. Fortunately she did not get pregnant. Unfortunately, that relationship ended not long after she gave up her virginity when she caught him making out with another cheerleader. It was Amanda, of all people.

She has always regretted giving her virginity to the jerk.

When it came to dating I wasn’t as lucky as my friends.

When Tom and Sandra wouldn’t let me date until I turned sixteen, I had a brief rebellion when I did sneak a couple of movie dates when I was fifteen.

One Saturday afternoon during the summer before my Sophomore year, I was exiting the mall theatre with a cute guy from the basketball team. It was actually our second clandestine date and I had spent the movie cuddled up to the boy. We had even shared a couple of awkward kisses, my first as a girl. I did have to remove his hand from my right breast at one point, but he got the message and behaved himself, for the most part, the rest of the movie. That is until I had to remove the hand that was creeping up the inside of my thigh towards the hem of my short skirt. After that, he did behave himself. We were going to get an ice cream before I had to get home. That is, we were going to get an ice cream until we almost literally ran into Sandra. She did not look happy. The fact that the boy had his arm around my waist didn't help much. Neither did the lipstick on his cheek. Neither did the mini skirt and crop top that I was wearing. I don't think that it made any difference that I was dressed similar to almost every other girl my age exiting the theater.

I knew that things were not good.

"I would like a word with you, young man," she tersely told my date before leading him off to a fairly quiet corner.

Fifteen minutes later, the young man was no where to be found. He avoided me like the plague after that.

After my date's hastily departure, Sandra had come back to where I was waiting and simply said, with a hurt expression on her face, "We will talk about this at home. I will follow you there. Now."

I could see the disappointment and betrayal in her eyes.

As I drove home, all I could see in my mind was the hurt in Sandra's eyes. Those two dates are the only times in my teen girl years that I can remember intentionally going behind Sandra's back. On the drive home to the mansion, I tried to think of justifications for my actions. Every excuse that I came up with sounded selfish and whiny. The realization of how hurt she must feel really sunk into my heart. I felt awful.

I was invited into the Study when I got home.

Tom was there and he also looked betrayed. I broke into tears before anything could be said.

"I am sorry," I wailed. "I am so so sorry!"

Tom looked like he was going to lose his resolve in the face of my tears. Sandra was not so easily swayed.

"What, exactly," she asked in a calm voice, "are you sorry for, Andrea?"

"For betraying your trust," I sniffed back the tears.

Tom and Sandra looked at each other. I knew that I had given the right answer, but I think that they had expected some teen angst about unjust parents. They probably would have gotten it too, if I had been a true fifteen-year-old girl.

Tom asked, "Do you love the boy?"

"No," I sniffed again. "He is just a friend from school. I think that he's really cute, though."

"How many times have you been out with him," Sandra asked without emotion, the hurt still very much in evidence on her face.

"Twice," I admitted knowing that she had probably already asked that question of my date.

"And how many other boys have you dated behind our backs," she pressed the issue.

"None," I told her. "He was the first."

"Why did you do it?" Tom asked.

I took a deep breath and replied, "I just wanted to know what it was like. The other girls at school have gone on dates, but I haven't. I know that you won't let me date until I am sixteen, but that is almost six months away. I didn't want to wait. I was being selfish and not thinking."

"In other words," Sandra pointed out, "you were being a typical fifteen-year-old girl."

I just hung my head at that.

"Why didn't you talk to me about this?" Sandra asked sadly. "I thought that we were best friends and had agreed to never go behind each other's backs again."

Memories of my sense of betrayal as a BFF a few years earlier, came flooding back.

I started to cry again.

I hadn't known what to say. I couldn't find words to undo what I had done. I don't know if I have ever been so miserable as I felt that afternoon.

It had really hurt to know that I had betrayed the trust of the person that I loved the most.

Sandra had come to sit by me and pulled me into a hug.

As I had sobbed into her shoulder I said, "I am so sorry. I wasn't thinking. I promise that I won't do it again. I don't think that I could stand to see your hurt again. I am so so so sorry!"

She had gently rubbed my back as she said, "You left your phone on the kitchen table for a while this morning and I went through your texts. When I saw the text about your date on your phone I was very hurt. But I realized that you were just acting your age. I decided to meet you at the theatre so that I could talk to the young man and so that I could see how you would act when caught."

I had felt a strong sense of déjà vu. Where had this played out before, I had asked myself rhetorically?

"You went through my texts?" I asked a little surprised at this invasion of my privacy.

"It's what the parents of teens do," Tom informed me. "It is our job to keep you safe."

There is a lot of advice to parents floating around to keep checking on their children's online activities. I had just thought that it didn't apply to me.

"It falls within the realm of the adoption agreement," Sandra pointed out.

It did, so there wasn't much I could say about that. It was one of the freedoms lost when I had given up my emancipation.

"When I talked to your date," she continued, "I realized that it wasn't his fault. It was yours for accepting the date knowing that you were breaking the ground rules. So I just explained The Facts of Life to him and suggested that he not try it again until after your sixteenth birthday. He seemed willing enough to comply with my request."

"I am sorry," I wailed. "I am so so sorry!"

"I know you are, sweetie," she had assured me.

Tom had cleared his throat. He and Sandra did some type of telepathic parent thing and I had known what was coming.

I had dug my car keys out of my purse and set them on the desk before they could say anything. "For how long?" I asked in resignation.

"Two weeks," Tom said.

"You are to stay on the premise unless you get permission for special events," Sandra clarified. "No friends may visit and you will help the nanny with your brother and sisters. You may work on your online course work and on projects for the company, but you will do it from here. And the sailboats are off limits. You must stay ashore. You may inform your girlfriends of your restriction, but after that I want your cell phone for the duration. You may only use email to interact with them."

"But we have a regatta next weekend," I reminded her.

"We will see how the week goes," she said, "before deciding about the race."

"And," Tom added, "see that you find some respectable clothing to wear."

Sandra had agreed with him.

It was a long two weeks, but I did get a lot done. We even made a breakthrough on one of Tom's research projects, which was exciting.

That was the last time any boy tried to gain my affection until I turned sixteen over the Christmas holiday.

It was also the last time that I betrayed Sandra’s trust by sneaking behind her back.

----<0>----

My next date occurred when a cute guy from the baseball team got up the nerve to ask me to a New Year’s party that took place just days after my sixteenth birthday. The rest of the Posse already had dates to the same party when he asked me.

Sandra was helping me to get ready when my date arrived to pick me up. As I quickly headed to the door to meet him, Sandra had gently restrained me.

"A girl always makes the boy wait for a few minutes," she informed me. "It’s in the girl handbook."

When I finally made my entrance on the grand staircase I saw a shaken young man standing in the entryway with Tom. It was obvious that Tom had explained The Facts of Life to my date.

"1 AM?" Tom pointedly asked my date.

"Yes sir," the stricken boy answered. "Not a minute later, I promise."

Sandra insisted on a few pictures of me with my first approved date before letting us go. Looking at those pictures now, you can see the fear in the boy’s eyes.

I couldn’t get the young man to tell me what Tom had told him but I could tell that it put the fear into him. He was very polite and attentive throughout the party. He was also careful to keep his hands to himself.

He had me home by 12:45 AM. The exterior flood lights were all on, lighting up the mansion. The lights made the building look even more imposing than it did in daylight. I was pretty sure that one or more of my adoptive parents were watching the feed from the security cameras, if not, they would review the recording in the morning.

He walked me to the door, but there was no goodnight kiss.

The exterior lights went out as soon as the boy drove away.

Yep, my parents were up watching for us. I was greeted by them in the atrium. I was debriefed before going to bed.

It was to be our first and last date.

----<0>----

It seemed that word had gotten out about my parents and it was a while before I was asked out again.

Throughout my second high school career, it seemed that every few months some new boy would get the nerve to ask me out. It was always some cocky arrogant boy, generally on a sports team, who thought that they could stand up to the challenge. I would agree to go out with them simply because I didn't want to be cloistered away like a nun and these were the only opportunities that I would get. It always turned out the same. I complained to Tom and Sandra that their filter simply ruled out dates with the good down-to-earth boys that I found cute, but they both said that it was for my own good, and their right and obligation as adoptive parents, to help my dates understand how to be gentlemen and how to treat me with respect. There were a few times when I was grateful that they had. A few of my dates went on to develop reputations for being really bad dates.

I had a lot more first dates than second dates. I can't remember any third dates in high school. We never got to third dates mainly because I was never really interested in the overconfident and arrogant type of boy that would try to get past Tom and Sandra.

I was friends with quite a few really nice boys, but none wanted to face my parents, so dating anyone that I was even mildly attracted to was out of the question. I never had a steady boyfriend in high school. Or any boyfriend for that matter.

----<0>----

"And now, for the All-tournament Team," the announcer yelled over the PA system at the State Volleyball Tournament in November 2015, "We have... Christine Cantwell, Andrea Broussard, and…"

Christine and I hugged each other as we jumped up and down.

"Thanks for everything, Andi," Christine cried, "I wouldn’t be here without you."

"And I wouldn’t be here without you," I told her. "All I did was set you up for over 30 kills this tournament. You made it happen, girl."

She gave me that ‘that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it’ look just before the rest of our team grabbed us in a huge group hug.

Looking up in the stands, I saw Tom and Sandra standing and cheering. They rarely missed a game. Sandra blew me a kiss with tears of joy streaming down her face. Christine’s parents and siblings were standing right next to them doing the same. The two families represented opposite ends of the economic scale, but we were all friends anyway.

As I mentioned previously, volleyball was my sport. My volleyball career really took off once I got into high school. We had a number of awesome players on the team, which helped a lot. My Junior and Senior years, our school team made it to the state tournament. We never won the championship but we were in the semi finals both times. I was lucky enough to be team captain both years.

Our most outstanding team member was the mousy girl that we had rescued from Amanda in the seventh grade. Christine had grown into a confident 5’11" terror on the court. She finished each year with a minimum of 400 kills. I finished each season with at least 700 assists. In addition to being selected to the All-Tournament team, we were both selected for the All-State First Team both years.

Not bad for a couple of 'losers'.

Christine and her family never could have afforded college if it wasn’t for the volleyball scholarship that she received. She was also one of several recipients of a generous academic scholarship from the Broussard Educational Trust, something that Sandra and I set up to help disadvantaged students of high academic potential. Now, in her senior year, she is a nationally recognized NCAA Division I player and closing in on completion of a degree in Economics as an Academic All-American. She will be the first one in her family to have ever earned a college degree. We are all proud of her. She texts me after every game to tell me how it went and to thank me for rescuing her and encouraging her to excel.

She has also been getting serious with an engineering student. He seems like a nice guy.

----<0>----

"Miss Broussard," our senior year U.S. Government teacher called on me, "Will you tell the class which theory of Constitutional interpretation was being espoused when Justice William Douglas stated that the First Amendment is absolute and shall not be abridged?"

I wasn’t sure about this one, "Original-intent theory?"

"Mr. Campbell," the teacher asked with a frown, "is Miss Broussard correct?"

Pete, the star of the class, looked uncomfortable as he glanced my way from across the room. I couldn't figure the boy out. He was brilliant but would run the other way whenever he saw me. I didn't think that he liked me for some reason. I didn't let it bother me, but it was strange. Other girls I knew told me that he was shy and awkward around them too.

He responded to the teacher's request, "Um, no she’s not."

"Would you care to provide the correct answer?" the teacher asked.

"He was using the plain-meaning-of-text theory," he looked at me apologetically.

"That is correct," the teacher smiled before launching into an explanation as to why Pete was right.

Susie passed me a note. "Good try, Andi."

As class let out, we almost bumped into Pete as we were exiting the room.

"Good answer Pete," I offered.

He turned bright red and mumbled, "Thanks" before fleeing down the hall toward what I assumed was his next class.

"I think he likes you," Susie kidded me.

I just rolled my eyes.

"Who likes Andi now?" Kelley asked as she joined us in the hall.

"Pete Campbell," Susie informed her. "He just turned red and hurried off when Andi said something nice to him."

Kelley rolled her eyes, "Just like every other boy in the school. We know that most of the boys around here are in love with our beautiful, intelligent, and kind Andi. If it wasn’t for her scary parents, she’d have suitors lined up around the school."

"Stop it!" I blushed. "I don't think that he likes me. He runs the other way every time I see him. Anyway, you two are beautiful, intelligent and kind and have your fair share of suitors. I am nothing special. I just have scary parents."

"Oh my," Susie had looked surprised at my blush, "you think he's cute too, don't you?"

"In a shy kind of way," I had admitted, "but then again, so are a lot of other boys."

"That's because they are all in love with you," Kelley had claimed, "but don't want to deal with your parents."

"By the way," I had changed the subject, "Someone told me that Amanda and her sidekicks are up to their old tricks again. There is a freshman girl that we need to go talk to."

"My goodness," Susie said with exasperation in her voice, "when is that bitch going to learn?"

"I guess that I will have to have another talk with Amanda at cheer practice after school," Kelley sighed.

I don't recall thinking any more about the interchange with Pete until we met again that snowy December evening several years later.

NotExpected 21

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn "Oh my," Susie had looked surprised at my blush, "you think he's cute too, don't you?" "In a shy kind of way," I had admitted, "but then again, so are a lot of other boys." "That's because they are all in love with you," Kelley had claimed, "but don't want to deal with your parents." "By the way," I had changed the subject, "Someone told me that Amanda and her sidekicks are up to their old tricks again. There is a freshman girl that we need to go talk to." "My goodness," Susie said with exasperation in her voice, "when is that bitch going to learn?" "I guess that I will have to have another talk with Amanda at cheer practice after school," Kelley sighed. I don't recall thinking any more about the interchange with Pete until we met again that snowy December evening several years later.

Chapter 21

In our senior year, the Posse nominated each other for the Prom court. I figured it was a joke and went along with it just for fun.

I was shocked when Jenny and I were actually voted to be two of the four Prom Princesses. We really didn't campaign seriously for the honor.

This created a dilemma for me. Jenny was steady dating a cute guy at the time who was taking her to the Prom. Kelley and Susie also had dates. We had even talked the three guys into going as a group to dinner and the dance. I volunteered to pay for a big stretch limo that could accommodate all of us. Given my untouchable status, no one had asked me to the Prom. I knew that I would have to either take the initiative to find a prom date or go without.

We had been prom dress shopping together and had a great time trying on lots of gowns. The four of us girls were very excited. Even though I could afford it, I had Tom foot the bill for a very expensive and gorgeous prom dress and accessories. I figured that was the least he could do for scaring all the boys away.

I did not want to be a Prom Princess without a date, so I came up with a plan to get one.

At lunch two weeks before the Prom, I diverted from my normal lunch table and went to the back corner of the lunchroom where the geeks and gamers hang out. I had a passing acquaintance with several of these social outcasts. The Posse and I had a pretty good reputation amongst the geeks at our school since we had rescued several of them from bullies over the years.

As I approached the table, the eyes of the boys facing me all got big and conversation at the table stopped. The others turned around to see what their buddies were gawking at.

"Hi guys," I said brightly as I set my lunch tray at an empty place at the table. I sat down to a table of speechless young men. "How’s it going?"

The first boy to mentally reboot said, "What are you doing here, Andi?"

He had been one of our bully rescue projects in our Sophomore year.

"Looking for a date to the Prom," I sweetly replied.

"No way!" another exclaimed. "Don’t tell me that the most gorgeous girl in the school, and a Prom Princess, needs a date from one of us."

"There is no way that any of us are going to the Prom," another one stated. "It's not our thing."

"Have any of you ever been on a date?" I asked. When I sat at the very table twenty years earlier, the answer to that question would have been a resounding 'No!'

"My Mom made me take my little sister to a movie last month," One boy said raising his hand. "Does that count?"

"I don’t think so," I sadly shook my head.

"Don’t look at me," another said. "I’ve heard about your parents. I gather that when The Facts of Life are explained to your dates, that they don’t dare take you out again. I even heard that one of your dates bailed before you could get out the door."

That was, unfortunately, true. The last boy to attempt a date with me was already out the door before I made my entrance. Whatever The Facts of Life are, they were too much for him to handle.

"Here’s the deal," I said, "As a duly elected Prom Princess, I have to go to the Prom and I don’t want to go alone, so I need a date. I have, so far been unsuccessful at attracting one. So, since I am reasonably sure that none of you have plans to attend the Prom, I decided to try my luck with you guys. I will pay for the tickets, dinner, and limo plus a $200 bonus for one of you to be that date. The lucky boy will have to shave, take a shower, wash his hair, and generally present himself as an upstanding young man. We will be going as a group with the rest of the Posse and their dates. Who’s interested?"

"No way," one boy said emphatically, "No amount of money is worth facing your parents."

They all looked at each other and started to argue amongst themselves. Everyone but Jimmy. He was sitting across the table from me looking thoughtful.

Jimmy had a reputation for being extraordinarily bright and only mildly socially impaired. He just wasn’t into playing the social games of high school. He would later be successful in a pre-medicine major in college and everyone was expecting that he would be accepted into a prestigious medical school.

"What about it, Jimmy?" I asked him. "Are you up to the challenge?"

"Let me get this right," he said. "The most gorgeous, popular, and accomplished girl in the school who has already been chosen to be a Prom Princess, and most likely will be voted Prom Queen, wants to pay me to clean up my act and take her to the Prom? But I must face her father who has scared the crap out of every guy that’s ever tried to date her. Is that right?"

"That about sums it up," I agreed.

"$500," he said.

"What?" I had asked in confusion.

"$500," He repeated himself. "I want $500 and the other things you mentioned. And the tux rental."

"You are crazy," I told him.

"Take it or leave it," he shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t really want to go to the Prom anyway."

We stared at each other for a minute. The other boys were sitting on the edge of their seats looking at the two of us in disbelief.

I spent a moment considering how bad I wanted a Prom date.

Finally, I said, "$500, the dinner, limo, and the tickets. You pay for your own tux and a corsage for me. I have already picked out a baby blue pastel dress. The corsage should complement it."

We stared across the table at each other for another minute. Everyone at the table was waiting with bated breath for his response.

Finally, he said, "Okay, I’ll do it on those terms with half of the money upfront and the balance at the conclusion of the date. Plus, I want one kiss. On the lips. At the Prom."

I made a face at that, but finally stuck out my hand, "I believe that we have a deal."

He shook my hand, "I believe that we do."

"Dude!" one of his buddies exclaimed in disbelief, "This is freaking amazing. You are getting PAID to go to the Prom with the hottest girl in the school and she is going to kiss you? Do you think you can handle her father?"

"We’ll see," he shrugged his shoulders.

I gave him $250 cash on the spot to seal the deal.

----<0>----

I ran into Amanda and a couple of her hanger-ons in the hall between classes later that day.

"What’s this I hear that you have to pay a boy to take you to Prom?" She asked in disgust.

"Just go away, Amanda," I sighed.

"What a loser," she said as she headed off to her next class. "You are so pathetic."

I knew, then, that I would never live this down.

But at least I was a Prom Princess. Amanda hadn’t made the cut, even after campaigning hard for it.

The whole school knew about my bargain before the day was over. The story seemed to grow with each retelling. I am sure that the geeks embellished it more than was warranted.

----<0>----

The night of the Prom, I hired a super stretch limo, which picked up all of the guys first then the rest of the Posse. We all ended up at the mansion together, where Sandra had a hired photographer to take pictures of us as couples and as a group.

When Jimmy came to the door, he had a look of nervous resolve on his face. He knew what was coming. As the photographer was getting set up, both Tom and Sandra took Jimmy into the Study to explain The Facts of Life. Jimmy was visibly shaken when he rejoined us for photographs. It was hard to get him to smile during the photo session.

We had reservations at a swanky restaurant for dinner before the dance. There were lots of other Prom couples there too. By the time dinner was over, Jimmy had recovered somewhat but he was being very careful to be the perfect gentleman. I was still untouchable.

The Prom was held in the ballroom of one of the upscale hotels in town. I knew that several of our classmates had reserved rooms for the night, but none of Posse was up for that. There was no way that my date would suggest such an impropriety after the Facts of Life lecture.

Before the dance started, the Prom Court was invited to the raised platform where the band was located so that the results of the voting for the Prom court could be announced. I was floored when I was pronounced Prom Queen and Jenny the first attendant. I never have figured out how that happened.

I danced the obligatory first dance with the football player who was named the Prom King before returning to the table that the Posse had claimed. I spent the rest of the evening dancing with Jimmy and visiting with the rest of the Posse and their dates except for the few times that I was asked to dance by other boys. Quite a few of the kids stopped by our table to congratulate Jenny and I. Jimmy didn’t mind me dancing with other boys as he did not seem excited about dancing.

As the dance wound down, Jimmy still hadn’t claimed his kiss.

"When would like your kiss?" I asked him during a slow dance.

I am sure that you could have put a phone book between us. Jimmy was being very careful to not overstep his bounds. It must have been something that my parents had said.

"I think that I will pass on that," he said nervously.

Maybe it was the magic of Prom night, but I was finding him to be rather cute. He did clean up nicely.

"A deal is a deal," I told him with a grin. Then I pulled his head down and gave him a big long passionate kiss, on the lips, right there in the middle of the dance floor for the whole school to see. I think it stopped everyone in their tracks.

"Dude," one nearby football player said in awe to Jimmy. "you are one really brave man."

One of my former dates piped up, "You better hope that her old man doesn’t hear about this."

Another one said, "I wouldn’t worry so much about her father. It’s her mother who scares me."

Jimmy was white as a sheet. A white sheet with a definite smear of lipstick on his lips.

I really really do want to know what’s in The Facts of Life lecture.

Jimmy’s street cred went up considerably that night.

It was also our one and only date.

----<0>----

As the end of our high school career approached, the weighted class ranking had me in first place, with Kelley and Susie right behind me. It was a tight race. I had a perfect 4.0 grade point average. That included straight As in the Advanced Placement courses that we had all taken. The others had each received an A- in one or more classes. Jenny was also in the top ten, but had slipped just a little more than the others. All the time working together in our condo study hall had really paid off.

I did have, unfortunately for me, a pang of conscience. I really didn’t need the honor. I had recently completed my Computer Engineering degree and had my acceptance into MIT in hand. Plus I felt that having an extra twenty years of life experience and a college education had given me an unfair advantage.

Looking at my schedule, I decided that the most difficult final exam that I would face would be in my AP Physics class. Kelley was also in the class. We were both at the top of the class rankings. I did a calculation and determined that I needed to drop to a B+ in the class in order to lose my place at the top of the ranks and let Kelley take the number one slot in the weighted class rankings. That is, assuming that she got straight As in all her classes.

To drop my grade to a B+, I had to drop my score on the final exam to 30%. That was way out of character for me, but it had to be done.

I studied extra hard with Kelley to prepare her for the exam. She thought that I was studying so hard so that I could cement my position in the standings.

When the exams were distributed, I stared at the questions. I knew that I could ace the exam, but I set to work trying to fail it without being too obvious. That was an impossible task.

When grades were posted, I found that I had done better at failing than I had thought. I earned a straight B in the physics class. This dropped me to third place behind Kelley and Susie. I just smiled to myself.

When the Posse learned of my grade, their first assumption was the teacher had screwed up the grading somehow. Kelley knew that I had the subject down cold.

"You need to go see the teacher about this," Kelley insisted. "This can’t be right. You would have to have missed almost every question on the exam for this to happen."

"You’ve never done that," Susie pointed out.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I guess that I just had a bad day."

When I did get my test paper back, it had a big 25% written on the top along with a "Come see me" from the teacher.

"What happened, Andi?" the teacher asked when I went to see him. "You had to have intentionally thrown the exam. The next lowest score was 60%. This wasn’t that hard of an exam for someone of your talents and you haven’t missed a point all semester."

I shrugged, "Bad day," was all that he was able to get out of me. He was frustrated by my response.

The girls were worse about it.

"25% !?!?!?" Jenny exclaimed. "Why did you do it?"

I just smiled at her and the other girls. "It was a bad day."

"Bull," Kelley was angry with me. "You’ve NEVER had that bad of a day. Ever. You blew the exam on purpose."

Jenny looked hard at me then said to Kelley, "She blew it so that you could be #1. It is so like her."

"It so is," Susie agreed.

I had no comment.

Kelley was so angry that she didn’t speak to me for three days. Another first.

During her valedictorian address at graduation, Kelley spoke of friendship and sacrifice, using me as her example. She came right out and said that she wouldn’t be giving that address if her friend had not sacrificed herself to give up the top spot for her. She encouraged the class to be equally selfless as they moved on to their futures. It was a touching tribute.

I was happy for my friend.

----<0>----

For a graduation present, Tom and Sandra gave the four of us a skippered sailboat charter in the British Virgin Islands. The girl's parents paid for transportation to and from the BVI. Our parents insisted that we hire a female captain to go with us, which the charter company was happy to supply, for a price. My parents also paid to have the boat stocked before we arrived. We rented a Jeanneau 440 with three cabins, one for the captain, and the other two for us. This was to be our first trip without our parents watching over us. The other girls were excited by this big step in their lives. I, of course, had been there, done that, but it was many years ago in what felt like another galaxy.

We were met at the airport by a representative of the charter company and taken straight to the marina where we met our captain at the boat.

"Hello girls," A bubbly young woman in her late 20s greeted us. "I am Cassie. I will be your captain for the week. My husband would normally go with us, but when he heard that the guests were four eighteen-year-old girls, he found another charter needing a captain."

"Wise man," I commented as we all introduced ourselves. We were more than okay with an all female crew. Throwing a male into the mix would have drastically changed the dynamic.

We spent the next hour settling in and getting a briefing on the boat and its systems.

Two hours after setting foot on the boat, we headed out on a short reach to Norman Island for our first night afloat. We had a fair wind and arrived in plenty of time to explore the national park site with natural sea caves. The snorkeling was awesome. Cassie had been planning on just hanging out on the boat, but we talked her into her bikini and had her join us in our explorations. She had spent several years in the area and was a great guide to the local wonders.

"If you girls want to," Cassie told us, "you can go to dinner on shore at Pirates. It is a family-oriented beach bar and restaurant. It is a nice place to hang out. I would stay away from Willy-Ts unless you are looking for a party."

"What are you going to do?" asked Kelley.

"I have some reading to catch up on," Cassie replied.

"You could come with us if you like?" Susie mentioned.

"That's alright girls," she smiled back at us, "I've been there plenty of times. Just go and enjoy yourselves. This is your trip. Also, I know the crew of one of the boats in the anchorage. If it is alright with you guys, I'll have them over for a visit."

"No problem," I told her.

So the Posse all piled into the dinghy and motored ashore. The restaurant is right at the water's edge and seemed to be doing a booming business. One look at the menu showed that this is a place for those who don't worry about spending lots of money.

The legal drinking age in the BVI is eighteen, so the girls all wanted to try a drink with dinner. We ordered four different flavors of Daiquiris that we shared. It was the first alcohol that I had had in six years and it went straight to my head. It appeared to do the same to the rest of the Posse.

"Oh," Jenny exclaimed after a first sip, "this is good."

"I could get used to this," Susie agreed.

"I want to see what a Margarita is all about," Kelley said. "Let's order those next."

"Be careful," I warned, "I think that we should keep it to one drink tonight to see what it does. We still have to motor back to the yacht and I don't want any drunk chicks falling overboard."

"Spoilsport," Jenny pouted, "You are acting like you are thirty-eight instead of eighteen."

"She is thirty-eight," Kelley pointed out.

"I keep forgetting that," Susie admitted.

Being eighteen-year-old girls, none of us ate much, so we just ordered appetizers and salads and spent a couple of hours chatting. We were all comfortable with each other and conversation streamed effortlessly. By this time in my feminine development I was fully integrated and could chat with the best of them. It was good to relax with my friends in a warm tropical environment.

Cassie had already gone to bed by the time we returned to the yacht. After securing the dinghy, we lounged in the cockpit and continued our discussion while watching the stars.

The next morning, we slipped our mooring and motored our way out of the crowded anchorage.

Kelley and Jenny had breakfast duty and prepared a light breakfast of bagels and fruit along with a pot of coffee for all of us.

We spent a couple of hours snorkeling around some rock formations known as the Indians before setting sail for the short hop to Great Harbor on Peter Island. We took an indirect route so that we could play with the sails. Cassie was impressed when Susie took command of the boat and we all pitched in to see how well we could sail the big boat. Cassie only had to point out where things were and train us on features that we were not accustom to.

"You girls really know what you are doing," she sounded surprised and pleased. "I don't have to do anything but tell you where to go. You make me feel like the guest."

Once she was comfortable with our skill levels, she went out on the foredeck in her bikini with a bottle of sun lotion and her book and left us to run the boat.

That night we ate aboard, after more swimming in the warm ocean, grilling some fresh Tuna steaks that we found in the refrigerator. Susie and I put together a salad to go with the fish.

"This is fun," Cassie said as we all lounged around the cockpit in our bikinis after dinner. "It is nice having a girl's vacation for a change."

"I know what you mean," Kelley added. "It is nice not having to watch out for leering guys. Jenny and I get enough of that when cheering."

"I think most guys come to the volleyball games to see us in our tight shorts," I added. "Sometimes I think that the only thing they remember from the games is all the nice asses in tight shorts."

"And the bouncing boobs," Susie added. "A sports bra only does so much to keep the girls under control. I heard some boys drooling over your breasts at one of your games."

"Exactly," Cassie agreed. "Even with my husband around, I have to be careful on most cruises. The guy cruises are the worst. You wouldn't believe how lecherous some guys get when they are away from their families. Particularly after a few drinks. Family cruises are better, particularly if there are kids around. Couples cruises aren't too bad - most of the time - but some husbands don't behave well even with their wives around. On a normal cruise, there is no way that I would be sitting around in a bikini enjoying a warm evening. While I like guys, there are times when it is nice to be a woman without having to have my guard up all the time."

"Amen to that," Jenny agreed. So did the rest of us.

I remember thinking, sadly, that I didn't really get it when I had been a guy.

----<0>----

We slept in a little later than we had planned the next morning. We slipped our mooring around 9 AM as we ate another light breakfast underway. We enjoyed yet another day of sailing, snorkeling, and sunning on our way to Cooper Island.

That evening we had dinner on the boat again and went ashore to sample the local beach bar. That evening the girls learned a lesson that all first time drinkers seem to need to learn.

"Girls," I said with concern as they were finishing their third drinks for the evening, "I think that we need to head back to the boat."

We were at a beach front bar not far from that night's anchorage. Each of the girls had already consumed three margaritas and they were all pretty loose. I was still nursing my first one and feeling the effect myself. I wasn't worried too much about them getting drunk - everyone has to do that at least once. No, it was the four college boys that bought them their second and third drinks that I was worried about. The boys were starting to look good to my three friends. Kelley was already practically sitting on one boy's lap and giggling up a storm as he slid his hand under her mini-skirt. I am pretty sure that another boy had copped a feel from Susie and she just giggled and did nothing to prevent the next one. Jenny was playing tonsil hockey with her boy who had a hand firmly attached to one of her breasts was caressing her erect nipple. These girls were lightweights and showing their inexperience with alcohol.

"Just one more round," Kelley pled as she snuggled closer to her boy. "And Joey here wants us to go party on his boat."

The fourth guy tried putting his arm around me to pull me close.

I elbowed him in the gut and he got the message - I think.

"Hey good looking," he grinned at me, "Let me buy you another drink."

"I'm good," I glared at him. "I am the designated driver tonight."

"Lighten up," he suggested, "you're on vacation. Live a little."

I stood up and rounded up my friends.

"Do we have to go, Andi?" Susie whined at me. "We are just starting to have fun."

"Yes we do, sweetie," I assured her.

"Yeah," Susie's boy agreed with her, "She's a big girl, let her stay. I will return her in the morning."

"Sorry guys, maybe another time." I growled at them, "We have to get an early start tomorrow."

I made each of the girls wear a life vest for the short trip out to the yacht, just in case one of them fell overboard.

Cassie helped me tuck them all into bed.

"Is this their first time getting drunk?" Cassie asked later as we were sitting topside enjoying the night air.

"Yeah," I sighed. "They need to learn some restraint."

"I think that they will have something to think about in the morning," she observed.

"I agree," I replied.

"How come you didn't get drunk?" Cassie asked. "This has to be your first time out too."

I thought about it for a minute before replying, "It's a long story that I would rather not get into, but this is not my first experience with alcohol."

"I take it that you learned your lesson the hard way," she probed.

"You could say that," I answered. And changed the topic.

I had gotten drunk a few times when I had first turned twenty-one and made an absolute fool of myself. I watched some girls do the same, but they were taken advantage of by predatory males and they suffered more than simple embarrassment. I didn't want that to happen to my friends.

----<0>----

There were groans in the morning as my three friends woke with splitting headaches.

Cassie and I provided them with big glasses of water, aspirin, and liberal amounts of coffee.

"I guess we had too much last night?" Susie moaned.

"I think there were boys involved?" Jenny asked, "Weren't there?"

"I don't think that I want to know what happened." Kelley groaned.

"Yes," I smiled at them, "There were boys trying to get you drunk, and they did a pretty good job of it."

"Don't tell me that we embarrassed ourselves," Jenny said already knowing the answer.

"I think that you were all ready to go party on their boat," I pointed out. "I am pretty sure that all three of you would have ended up waking up in their beds this morning if I hadn't been there."

"They were cute," Susie pointed out, "At least I think they were. I sort of remember that anyway."

"Judging from where he was placing his hands," I commented dryly, "he definitely thought you were cute."

"I sort of remember that too," Susie said dreamily, "It felt good."

"I am pretty sure that being a single mom wouldn't have felt so good." I said dryly.

"I am on the pill," she shrugged, "but it would probably be best to be cognizant the first time."

"And with a boy that cares about you," Kelley added. "Not like The Asshole I dated in my Junior year. He wasn't interested in me, just sex. We only did it twice. While it was intersting, I didn't come either time and he just walked away with a big self satisfied grin on his face both times. Next thing I know, he's banging that bitch Amanda. I think that he wanted to work his way through all the cheerleaders. I will wait for Mr. Right next time."

"I think that you're right," Jenny said. "The Asshole made a play at me after he got done with Amanda."

"Well," I pointed out to Kelley, "last night it looked like you were warming up to your second conquest. You were practically sitting on his lap and you were giggling a lot."

"And he copped a few feels too," she pointed out. "And like Susie said, it felt nice. Anyway, I'm glad that you had your head on your shoulders. I won't do that again."

Cassie had been quietly watching our interchange with a grin.

"Something about be away from home lets people's inhibitions go out the window," she commented, "I see it all the time, particularly with people who are here without their significant others. But you know what I admire?"

"What?" I asked.

"I admire the people who honor their relationships and control themselves," she told us. "I think that the people who are the happiest are the ones who can go home without secrets. I did the party scene before I met my husband and I kind of regret it most days. It was fun at the time, but I particularly regret it when we run into some guy that I had slept with on some one-night stand. They always leer at me and occasionally comment on what a good time we'd had - right there in front of my husband. Sure I was single then, but it gives me regrets. I wish that I had waited. Being with my husband is much better than anything I experienced as a party girl."

We all were quiet for a while, each with her own thoughts on what Cassie had said.

----<0>----

Day four started out with a tack up the Sir Francis Drake Channel to a place called the Baths on the southern end of Virgin Gorda for a day of snorkeling and sunning. In the afternoon we sailed across the channel to Marina Cay. We talked Cassie into joining us for a dinner ashore and a drink at the local bar. We had Cassie take our picture when the four of us crammed giggling into the red British phone booth at the end of the pier.

Day five we spent the mid part of the day snorkeling at three small islands called the Dogs.

As we were climbing back aboard the boat, we were subject to wolf whistles from a nearby boat that had arrived while we were swimming. It turned out to be the four boys from our night of excess.

"Are you guys stalking us?" Susie called across in a flirtatious tone to our 'dates' from that night.

"We are just following the most scenic view in the BVI," one of them replied before they dived in the water and swam over to visit us.

"Permission to come aboard," my 'date' playfully requested when they arrived.

"What do you think girls," Jenny asked, "Should we allow the boys that got us drunk the other night on board?"

"Hey," her date replied, "We didn't get you drunk. We were just being friendly."

Cassie laughed, "Come aboard guys, if you can behave yourselves."

We spent a little time visiting. The boys tried to get cozy again, but we kept them at arms length.

When we got to talking about sailing, it was pretty apparent that we had more sailing experience than they had, but they boasted about their abilities. As luck would have it, they were also in a Jeanneau 440.

Susie got a predatory gleam in her eye.

"Where are you boys headed tonight?" she sweetly asked.

"We thought that we'd head up to Leverick Bay," one of them replied.

"I know that our sailing skills are probably not as good as yours, but do you care to have a race to Leverick Bay?" she asked sweetly. "We have the same boats, so it should be an even race."

The boys perked up at that.

"What wager?" one of them asked.

"A round of drinks at the local beach bar?" Jenny suggested.

"There is a beauty shop there," Cassie pointed out to the girls, "you should get pedicures if you win."

The boys grinned, "And if we win, you all spend the night on our boat."

"In your dreams," Kelley snorted. "I think that we'll settle for a round of drinks."

In the end, we agreed that we would race for dinner and drinks. The captains were forbidden to participate except to warn of navigation hazards. When Cassie blew an air horn, we'd pull anchors and the winner was to be the first one to catch a mooring buoy at our destination. The use of a motor was prohibited.

With Susie directing our efforts, it was really no contest. We raised anchor and were underway before their anchor was secured. They made a mess of getting underway and their tacks were not very sharp. They did not trim their sails well either.

Cassie was all grins as we pulled away from the other boat. "You girls did a great job setting those idiots up. I like your style."

We were already ashore at the restaurant when they picked up their mooring buoy.

"Where did you girls learn to sail like that?," one of the boys asked when they caught up to us.

Jenny grinned, "We've been sailing Lake Michigan since seventh grade."

Pointing to me, she continued, "Andi's parents have a J/88 that we race offshore. Susie and Andi are also some of the best Laser sailors in the Great Lakes."

"We've been suckered," one of the boys groaned.

They did pay for a nice dinner and we enjoyed each other's company that evening before heading back to our respective boats. The girls wisely had only one drink each. We did grant them goodnight kisses.

----<0>----

Day Six was a long down wind sail to Great Harbor on Jost Van Dyke island with a stop at Monkey Point on Guana Island for our midday snorkel.

Our last morning was spent cleaning up the boat and packing as we worked our way back to the charter base for our noon check in.

"Thanks for a great week," we each gave Cassie a hug - and a big cash tip.

"Let me know when you come again girls," she grinned at us, "I can always use a paid vacation. It was the best cruise that I've been on in a long time."

We spent the afternoon and evening exploring the island and caught a flight home the next morning.

It was a heavenly break before each of us went home to our summer jobs and preparing to leave home for college the next fall. We did get together frequently that summer as we looked forward to the next big step in our lives.

For the first time in six years we would be starting school without the support of the full Posse. It was a bittersweet time.

 

NotExpected 22

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn It was a heavenly break before each of us went home to our summer jobs and preparing to leave home for college the next fall. We did get together frequently that summer as we looked forward to the next big step in our lives. For the first time in six years we would be starting school without the support of the full Posse. It was a bittersweet time.

Chapter 22

I was accepted into the Ph.D. program in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science (EECS) at MIT starting the fall of 2016. MIT's EECS program only offers terminal masters degrees to gradates of their undergraduate program so I had to sign up for the Ph.D. program from the start. The only way to get into MIT's EECS graduate program without an MIT undergraduate degree is as a Ph.D. candidate. My degree in Computer Engineering, my name on three patents, and a very strong GRE score gained me admission to the program. The fact that I was recruited to play on their NCAA Division III volleyball team didn’t hurt either. Since I didn’t have a master’s degree, I had to complete that first as part of the Ph.D. program, which I did in the spring of 2018.

Pete didn't know that I was going for a Ph.D. when he was listing my accomplishments when we first 'met' again. I had not, technically, misled him about only being a lowly engineer-in-training since I had passed the first exam that qualifies me for engineer-in-training status with the state and am waiting for the required years of practice before sitting for the professional engineering licensing exam. I just didn't offer to inform him of my Ph.D. candidacy until later in the date. It seems that being a Ph.D. candidate intimidates young men and scares them away. I have learned to wait until the relationship has a toe hold before springing that fact on a potential date.

Of the four new patents that Pete referred to, three of them were the result of work completed at Broussard Industries before, or just after, graduation from high school. It just took time for them to get filed. And, like my other patents, they are jointly held by Tom, myself, and other researchers working for Broussard Industries.

I did complete another patentable project with my advisor during my masters research. The project was a smaller part of my overall Ph.D. research project. It will probably come as no surprise that my Ph.D. project is one that I brought with me from Broussard Industries. Tom has contracted with MIT to tackle a particularly difficult research problem that we have been struggling with since the company had first started. I suspect that the funding was also a consideration in my acceptance to MIT's Ph.D. program but I was not getting any special treatment from my advisor and professors.

When Pete and I met, I had only been home for a few of days. I have come home for the Christmas break and would be staying for a few months to collaborate with Broussard's researchers on my project. I would normally have been out at the research facility but had been catching up with some work at my headquarters office when Pete and I met. I will be heading back to Cambridge to continue my work there in the summer.

If things go well, I should be done with my Ph.D. later this academic year. My graduation date depends on when the project will achieve its objective.

With research, it is hard to tell when, and if, the objective will be reached. Einstein has been quoted as saying "If we knew what we were doing, it wouldn’t be called Research." That is pretty true of my project. We are not really sure what we are doing, but we know where we want to be. As my advisor pointed out when I asked when we'd be done, it will be done when it is done, and not a minute sooner!

At MIT I am part of a research group working on projects related to Control and Decision Systems. It is not worth getting into the details of the research here. I find that there are only a few people whose eyes don’t glaze over when I get talking about the technical aspects of my research.

While at MIT, I lived on campus the first year in a graduate dorm apartment with three other girls. The university requires all first year students to live on campus. During that year I got involved in a group called GW6: Graduate Women in Course 6. The mission of the group is "To provide EECS graduate women with an environment in which to develop mentorships and friendships and to gain support and encouragement in completing their degree." We had a lot of fun and I made lots of new friends. Kelley is attending Boston University, right across the Charles River, and we moved into a rather expensive off campus apartment, along with a couple of other girls, our second year. We are still rooming together.

No one at MIT has ever questioned my gender. The continuing issue is with my age.

The admissions office and my advisors all know that I am really forty-one years old, but to the rest of the campus, I am a young twenty-one (soon to be twenty-two) year old Ph.D. candidate child prodigy. The good news, is that I am not the only one. MIT attracts such students. I did not stand out as much as I might have at any other campus.

----<0>----

One early December morning during my first term at MIT, I was chatting with a few other girls in the hallway of the student union when I looked up to see a male university employee walk by. It was obvious to me that he was discretely checking us out, something that college men were constantly doing. My mind flashed back immediately to that day during my transition when I realized that girls no longer caught my attention like they had before. I was now on the other end of the look. I realized that I was now part of the eye candy in the student union. What a switch.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

An hour later I was sitting by myself eating a light lunch in the crowded food court of the student union when a young man, a freshman, approached my table.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked?

I waved at the seat, "Go ahead. I'm about done."

"No rush," he said, "My name is Jared."

"Hi, Jared," I responded, "I am Andi."

Over the next few minutes we traded basic biographical information. Where are you from? What are you studying? What do you do for fun? That sort of thing.

"Wow!" he said on learning of my major, "Electrical Engineering and Computer Science. That's pretty cool. I'm in the first year of the Civil Engineering program. Don't you find the math professors to be pretty brutal?"

"I don't know," I responded with a shrug. "I'm not taking any math courses this semester."

"I thought that all first year engineering students took Calculus?" he seemed confused. "Did you test out of it?"

"Well, actually," I admitted, "I am a first year Ph.D. student."

"Seriously?" he seemed stunned.

"Seriously," I confirmed.

"Wow," he said. Jared didn't seem to know what to say at that point, but I could see that he was reevaluating his purpose for seeking me out.

"You can't be over twenty," he observed when his thought processes settled down.

"I'll be nineteen soon," I said helpfully.

"How can you be a Ph.D. student when you are only eighteen?" he was clearly confused and intimidated.

I shrugged. "I finished my B.S. in Computer Engineering last year and they let me in."

"I had heard that MIT had some child prodigies," he said, "but you are the first one that I've met."

"You must not have time for fun," he said, obviously fishing.

"I keep busy," I told him, "between research, classes, and volleyball, there is not a lot of time left."

"Volleyball?" he asked.

"Yes," I responded, "I am on the women's varsity volleyball team too."

"Wow," he was saying that a lot. "Um, it was nice meeting you. Maybe I will see you around. I've got to get to class."

With that, he got up and left with his half eaten sandwich.

The good news about being away at college is that Tom and Sandra cannot scare off potential suitors. The bad news is that the undergraduate boys 'my age' have all been intimidated when they learn that I am a Ph.D. student. And that I am on the volleyball team. I did manage to snag a few dates my first year away from home, but I rarely went out with the same guy more than once. I have decided that most guys aren't interested in a girl that just might be smarter or more accomplished than they are. It must be something in the male ego. To keep a man in their lives, most women have either accepted being second fiddle, or at least let their men think that they are.

While I can't hide that I am a Ph.D. candidate and on the volleyball team, I do hide the fact that I am a multi-millionaire. That information would bring out a different set of undesirable suitors. It was bad enough being labeled a girl with rich parents when people found out who my parents are without throwing in the fact that I have a net worth of well over ten million dollars on my own. My annual investment income has reached the point that my income tax bill normally exceeds the annual income of the average American. I will have to know Pete a lot better than I do now before I reveal the true nature of my fiscal situation to him.

I wondered if I was ever intimidated by strong women in my past life. I never let Sandra's accomplishments bug me, did I? I don't think so. It is getting harder to remember the days before the change.

----<0>----

Sandra and I have talked on the phone or Skype several times a week over the years so that we can keep up to date on each other’s lives. I don’t think that a day has gone by without at least one text or email exchange between us. She has been a great sounding board as I have occasionally wrestled with the social issues of being a college coed. She heard about every one of my dates, and has given me advice where needed to avoid relationship disasters or to pick up the pieces when they occurred.

Sandra has had her hands full managing the business affairs of the still growing company, being a wife, and raising three active children with Tom. I have to hand it to Tom - he has followed his parent's advice and has devoted considerable time to his marriage and family. Sandra has done the same.

Tom Jr. had just started school when I left for MIT. The twins were an energetically happy pair of four-year-olds and were already learning how to take advantage of their twin status, driving their parents and nanny around the bend. Tom has been no match for their natural cuteness. He is helpless when faced with innocent puppy dog eyes.

"Andi!" little four-year-old Charlotte excitedly said in a Skype call just a few months after I first left home, "I drew you a picture."

She held up a paper with crayon scribbles on it for me to see.

"It's beautiful, Charlotte," I told her with as much passion as I can muster.

"I did one too!" Melanie holding up her masterpiece. She was not about to be out done by her sister.

"Yours is beautiful too, Melanie," I let her know.

"Girls," Sandra interjected, "say goodnight to your sister. It is your bedtime."

"I want Andi to read a story," Melanie pouted.

"Me too," Charlotte agreed.

The girls love to Skype their big sister. One evening Sandra had found the twins in the Study knocking on the computer screen saying "wake up Andi." It was so cute.

Their big sister likes to read them bedtime stories. Little Tom frequently joins us.

I laughed, "Okay, one story, girls. Which one?"

"Cat Hat!" they shouted in unison.

"Not Goodnight Moon?" I asked.

"Cat Hat!" they shouted in unison again.

Dr. Seuss was their favorite author.

I pulled out the requested book from my stash of children's books and held it up to the webcam and started to read.

I really missed the family when I was away from home. These calls helped to ease the separation.

----<0>----

I knocked on my advisor's office door last September and heard a short "Come in Andrea" coming from behind the closed door.

I had come for my weekly meeting with my advisor about progress on my research project.

He looks up as he puts down the draft of a technical journal paper that we have been working on together.

"So how is our child prodigy doing this week?" he asks with tongue firmly in cheek. He always starts our weekly meetings off this way. He is well aware of my true age, as is evidenced by the next step in our weekly ritual.

"You mean the grad student that is older than you are, Sonny Boy?" I pointed out. He is in his mid-thirties and is a brilliant researcher in his field.

"That's Dr. Sonny Boy to you," he grins back at me.

"So," he enquires, "what do you have for me this week, mother?"

"I may older than you," I scowled at him, "but not that old."

"I still think that you are lying about your age," he told me before we got into the details of the project.

"Good work, Andrea," he tells me an hour later after we have covered just about everything that I have been working on. To me, didn't seem that we were making much progress towards our goal. There are still a few persistent problems that we have been unable to crack.

"When we can find our way around these last few issues," he reassured me, "we can wrap up this project and get you your degree."

"Maybe," I skeptically agree, "but you know that I could make faster progress on this if I go back to Wisconsin for a month or two. We can probably get to where we are going without it, but a few months at Broussard Industries' R&D lab will accelerate our progress. We might even be able to reach our goal by this summer. There are some propriety aspects to this project that are best done from our labs in Wisconsin. I have the clearance to access what we need and you don't. The research grant doesn't give you access to everything, but I do have that access. It won't cost you anything either."

He thought about that for a few minutes.

"I can see where that will help," he admitted, "But you have some coursework that you are enrolled in this term that you need to do from here. I don't know why you are still taking courses, you have more than enough credits to satisfy your committee."

"I know," I acknowledge his observation. "There is still so much to learn, but this will be the last term and I only have one course. I am also in my last year with the volleyball team. I could go to Wisconsin when the term is over. "

"That would work," he agreed. "By the way, I have been talking with the other members of your advisory committee. You know that we tried to get you to take the General Exam last Spring. We all think that you are more than ready for it and that you must quit stalling and take the exam. When would you like to schedule it? We can do it this term or maybe in January sometime. We are tired of waiting for you to put this behind you."

The program requires a General Examination at the completion of your advanced program of study. I knew that I was past due to take the exam since I have long since finished the required coursework, but have been putting it off. I have to admit that I am terrified of the exam.

"January works," I replied, "It will give me time to review more and I can fly back for the exam and spend some time in the labs here after it is over."

The nice thing about completing the exam is that I will be able to focus 100% on research once it is done. That should allow me to solve the last few remaining issues with the project. That is, if I pass the exam. If I don't, then I get one more shot at the exam before they wash me out of the program.

"Don't worry about the exam, Andrea." He smiled at me. "You are more prepared than any grad student that I've had in years. You could sit for the exam today and pass."

"I don't know," I nervously replied. "This is a very high stakes exam and I want to be prepared. I'll come back in January for it if you let me go to Wisconsin for the winter."

"You know that we don't have the budget to fly you back and forth all the time," he points out.

"Don't worry about it," I informed him with a smile, looking forward to another ride on the corporate jet. Broussard Industries has grown to the point of justifying the lease of their own jet to get the executives to where they need to go. The jet even has the company logo on the tail. "As I said, it won't cost you anything. Tom will cover it."

I left his office with a tentative date for the General Exam in late January and an agreement for me to spend the winter in Wisconsin.

I was looking forward to a few months at home, but I am seriously worried about the exam. Somehow, I don't think that the Posse will be able to help me study for this one, anymore than I could help them in their respective fields of study.

----<0>------

"Hey girlfriend," Susie greeted me over the internet one Sunday evening this past October, "is Kelley joining us today or is she out with lover boy?"

"I'm here!" Kelley shouts from the kitchen. Kelley and I are roommates in Boston. Kelley is also engaged to be married next summer.

Kelley ended up at Boston University studying Journalism. Last year she had an internship at the Boston Globe and has visions of becoming an investigative journalist. She also met a really cool guy who is doing well in his pre-med program. They have been dating for two years now and plan on tying the knot after graduation. As we are roommates, I have watched the love story unfold and I am very happy for Kelley. She has asked me to be her Maid-of-Honor and the rest of the Posse to be Bridesmaids. At least I have experience in the job. It won't be nearly as much work as Tom and Sandra's wedding as they are planning a small wedding back home in Wisconsin. Where they end up next year will depend on where he gets accepted into medical school.

The Posse and I have worked to keep up with each other as we have worked our way through college. We have a scheduled weekly Skype session every Sunday night. On most Sunday's we are all there, but occasionally it is just a subset of the Posse. It is fairly easy since Kelley and I are roommates and so are Jenny and Susie.

All the girls are in their senior year of college, having maintained full ride academic scholarships for the whole four years.

"So," I asked, "how's the next big name in fashion design?"

Susie is making a splash in the Textile & Fashion Design program at UW-Madison. She has been working hard to gain acceptance for advanced studies at the prestigious Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City. She had a very exciting internship at a well known design house in New York last summer which really gave her the exposure that she will need to get into FIT. We are all pulling for her. Susie also took a number of marketing classes and hopes to open her own fashion business some day. Susie has also been a leader of the UW competitive sailing team. She and Jenny have been roommates for the whole four years.

"I don't know," Susie sighs, "I just found out that Jenny wants me to design her wedding dress. And coordinated Bridesmaid dresses."

Jenny is also engaged, but they haven't set a date yet. Wouldn't you know it, her intended is a punter on the varsity football team at UW-Madison. She was the girl in seventh grade who thought that all football players were full of themselves. The rest of the Posse is not so sure about him but he is also a top student in the business school. He is from Georgia and has a very sexy and smooth southern accent. Jenny is totally in love with him. The wedding will probably be this summer also, with Susie being invited to be the Maid-of-Honor and the rest of us as Bridesmaids. Jenny's love of cheerleading landed her on the cheer squad at UW-Madison which led to her meeting Anthony, her intended. Jenny will be completing a History degree this academic year and has plans to go into Law. She has applications in to several prestigious law schools, but hopes to stay right there in Madison for her Law degree. It will depend on where Anthony is accepted for his MBA. They have both applied to Harvard for their respective graduate degrees, so it is possible that they could end up in the Boston/Cambridge area next year. That would be exciting!

"Can you do mine too?" Kelley asked as she came in from the kitchen.

"Maybe I should do a wedding line for my senior project," Susie sighed. "I could do a different dress for each of us. We can talk about it when we are home for the Christmas Holiday. You two would have to come to Madison to model them for the show."

"As if I will ever need one," I retorted. I still couldn't quite see myself as a wife. The idea was not without its appeal, but somehow the image never really came into focus. I had yet to find a guy even remotely close to being the right one. "Anyway, I can probably be there for the show. I talked my advisor into letting me do some research from the BI R&D lab in Wisconsin this winter."

"That's great news," Susie said, "You will only be a couple of hours away. We can get together more often."

"As far as wedding dresses go, I don't have any immediate plans for one either," Susie pointed out, "but you never know when lightening will strike. You could be just standing there watching the weather and Mr. Right could show up beside you."

Susie had had a couple of relationships in college, but neither of them had ended well.

"Yeah, right," I dismissed her prediction.

"You both will find Mr. Right," Kelley assured us. "I can't imagine two such beautiful and talented women being left on the shelf for too much longer."

"I think it's the 'talented' part that is scaring them off," I sighed.

"So where is Jenny tonight?" Kelley asked.

"She is out with her lover boy," Susie confirmed. "The team won that big game yesterday and they are all out celebrating, again. I suspect that she'll be staying over at his place tonight. She usually does after a victory celebration. She said to say hi and promised to be here next week."

"I think that she should bring Anthony with her," I stated. "We need to explain the Facts of Life to him."

We had come up with our own version of the Facts of Life and had tried them out on Kelley's intended during one of our evening group chats. We had asked Kelley to leave while the three of us grilled him. I don't think that our version has quite the punch that Tom and Sandra's do since he never flinched and promised to be good to our Kelley. Jenny's intended was overdue for his grilling.

After discussing current relationships, Susie asked, "Is anyone up for the Queen's Cup Race this summer? We almost won that race the past few years. This could be our year, if we can use the J/88 again."

The Queen's Cup is an offshore sailing race from Milwaukee across the Lake to Grand Haven, MI. We've been in the race every year since the summer before our senior year in high school. We have been SO close to winning a couple of times that it has become an obsession with Susie to keep trying.

"I'm in," I said, "I'll see if Tom is willing to move the boat to Milwaukee for the start. They could have a family outing sailing it back home after the race, like they did last year."

"I don't know," Kelley said. "The race is only two weeks after the wedding and I hope to be working for the Globe again. I don't think that I will be able to make it."

"You can do it," I encouraged her, "You could fly out Thursday night and fly home on Sunday. You won't want to miss the victory party when Susie accepts the trophy."

"We will see," she didn't sound hopeful.

"I will spring for the jet," I tried to entice her. "We can travel together as I will probably be in Cambridge this summer and you can bring your new husband with you."

I really looked forward to our Sunday chats. They would go on for hours as we kept up on each other's lives and supported each other in our various challenges. I love these girls.

Anthony did get his day before the tribunal the next week, and I am happy to report, that he passed the inquisition with flying colors though it was a little tense at times. He couldn't understand why he had to get our blessing. In the end, he did promise to always love and cherish Jenny and to give her space to pursue her dreams. He and Jenny will be a good match.

----<0>----

My graduate course only had a few students in it, so we successfully lobbied the professor to give our final exam early. I am sure that I did fairly well on it. The upside was that I was able to catch a ride home on the corporate jet on the evening of Friday the thirteenth along with a couple of BI executives who were heading back to headquarters after some meetings in the Washington, D.C. area. They had to divert to Boston to pick me up but no one seemed too unhappy about the side trip. The crew didn't seem to be too happy about finding space for three large boxes of books that I would be needing to study for the General Exam. Then there were the two huge suitcases of clothing and accessories.

I would have taken Kelley with me but she had finals the next week then she and her fiancé were going to visit with his family for the week leading up to Christmas. They would be coming to Wisconsin to see her family the week leading up to the New Year.

After a two and a half hour trip, we landed in Wisconsin a little after 7 PM.

"Andi!" Little Tom enthusiastically greeted me at the airport with a huge hug about my waist.

"Someone's happy to see their big sister," Sandra commented with a smile. She had come to collect me from the airport. "Excuse me a minute, Andi, I need to have a short chat with the VP that was on your flight."

"And someone is happy to see their little brother," I said as I picked him up and spun him around while Sandra went to have her short conference.

"Put me down!" Little Tom begged while laughing. Apparently it is not cool for a third grader to be tossed around by his big sister but he clearly still enjoys it.

"How's third grade?" I asked him, which launched him into a detailed description of recent class activities.

When Sandra rejoined us, I asked, "Where are the twins?"

"Melanie and Charlotte," Sandra informed me, "are having time out. They pulled another prank on the nanny and are paying the price."

"Charlotte pretended to be Melanie," Little Tom told me, "and got Nanny all confused again."

"Yes," Sandra confirmed the story, "After school today, Melanie was told that she could not have a snack until her bed was made, so Charlotte took her place and then they switched after Melanie, posing as Charlotte, got a cookie from the kitchen. They both ended up with cookies and no bed was made. They both put up a fuss when I told them that they couldn't come meet you because of what they had done. I was going to just send them to bed, but Tom caved in and has let them stay up to greet you when we get home."

When we came in from the garage, Tom and the twins were there to get their hugs.

"Andi, Andi," the girls shouted with glee as I squatted down to scoop them up into a hug, "You are home!"

"Hello girls," I told them, "It is good to see you! You guys are getting to be so big!"

"Mama says that you are going to stay home," Charlotte stated.

"I will be home for a while," I confirmed.

"Can you come play with us?" Melanie asked.

"Not tonight," Sandra interjected, "It is past your bedtime girls and I am still not happy about the trick you played on Nanny."

The girls both gave their most angelic looks, "We're sorry Mama, we won't do it again."

Like that's going to happen. Not!

"Go get ready for bed," I told them, "and I'll come read with you two and Little Tom if you can be ready when I get there."

"Okay, Andi," they said in unison as the three children ran to their rooms to finish their bedtime preparations.

Sandra sighed, "You should be here more often. They listen to you better than anyone."

Tom gave me a hug, "Welcome home, Andi."

"Thanks Tom," I returned the hug, "for everything. It is good to be home."

"Do you have plans for the weekend?" Tom asked after the three of us had chatted for a few minutes. "We are thinking of taking the kids to see the lights at the Botanical Gardens tomorrow night. It would be a fun family outing."

"Probably not tomorrow night. I promised my parents that I would come for a visit tomorrow evening," I tell them. "My mother and I have a date to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow afternoon. Sunday will be better. The rest of the Posse has final exams next week, so they won't be home yet."

I haven't said much about it, but I have also kept in touch with my real parents and family. It took a couple of years, but they are all now comfortable with the 'new' me. I make time to see my parents every time that I get home. I often attend extended family functions, for example I will be attending the annual Christmas Eve dinner at my parents house along with all their descendants living within driving distance. I will be just another face in the happy crowd. In the summers, I have spent time out on their sailboat with them. I usually chat with mom at least once a month or so. My sister and I keep in touch as well. I don't hear from my brother very often. The family seem pleased with the way things were turning out. Mom now works in the school district administration and will be retiring after this academic year. Dad is considering retirement as well.

"We'll plan on Sunday then," Tom agreed.

Sandra and Tom helped me carry my bags up to my room where we found the kids waiting on my bed for their bedtime story. Being in second and third grades, their reading skills were sufficient that I had them help me to read the stories. The girls had expanded their reading horizons past Dr. Seuss as they have gotten older.

"Can we sleep with you tonight?" Charlotte asked with a look of pure innocence.

"Please," Melanie added her request with pleading eyes.

Sandra answered for me, "Not tonight, Pumpkins. Andi needs to get settled in and you two need to get some sleep."

"We'll do it one night after school gets out," I promised them, "if you don't pull anymore pranks on Nanny. Little Tom can join us too if he can put up with us three girls."

After putting the kids to bed, Sandra and I spent another hour sitting on my bed chatting before we each went to bed.

As I lay there thinking while waiting for sleep to claim me, I thought about how wonderful life had become. The money and professional success were nice, but I realized that the thing I valued most were the close ties with family and friends. Those relationships are the foundation for my other successes. Without the support of family and friends it would have been much harder to be successful in the other areas of my live.

Thinking of Kelley and Jenny and their upcoming weddings, I was starting to wonder if finding a life companion was next on my list of accomplishments. I found myself wanting to be part of a loving married relationship again. While reading to the kids that night, I had felt a feeling that I had been repressing whenever I am around them. I realized that I wanted a family of my own. I wanted what Tom and Sandra have. I wanted a husband and children to love. I just didn't know how to go about it given my odd circumstances. I knew that I would have to trust fate to provide a way to add that missing link in my life. After all, Grandma had continued to tell me that she saw love in my future.

I had smiled to myself as I realized, even without a husband and family of my own, I was content and happy.

NotExpected 23

Not What We Expected by Tiffany B. Quinn Thinking of Kelley and Jenny and their upcoming weddings, I was starting to wonder if finding a life companion was next on my list of accomplishments. I found myself wanting to be part of a loving married relationship again. While reading to the kids that night, I had felt a feeling that I had been repressing whenever I am around them. I realized that I wanted a family of my own. I wanted what Tom and Sandra have. I wanted a husband and children to love. I just didn't know how to go about it given my odd circumstances. I knew that I would have to trust fate to provide a way to add that missing link in my life. After all, Grandma had continued to tell me that she saw love in my future. I had smiled to myself as I realized, even without a husband and family of my own, I was content and happy.

Chapter 23

Pete and I enjoyed a delightful dinner sharing stories about our high school experiences and bringing each other up to speed on some of what we’d been doing for the three and a half years since graduation. I can’t remember enjoying anyone’s company so much in a very long time.

I learned a lot more about him that I had ever known and I am sure that he now knows more about me than he ever knew.

Dessert is long since consumed and we are still talking and laughing together when my cell phone goes off with Sandra’s ringtone.

"Oh no!" I exclaim looking at the time display on my phone. It is almost 9 PM. I don’t know where the time went.

"Hello Mom," I answer the phone with an apologetic look to Pete.

"Where are you, Andi?" She sounds worried. "We expected you hours ago. Are you in trouble?"

"No Mom," I reassure her, "I’m waiting out the traffic with a friend."

"I am sure that rush hour has been over for some time now," she points out. "Where are you?"

"I want you to think about this," I tell her while looking across the table at Pete, feeling a little giddy. "Where were you twenty years ago tonight and what happened?"

"No!" she exclaimed with understanding after the briefest of hesitations.

"Yes," I replied with a smile.

Pete is looking at me with confusion. He is obviously not understanding my side of this conversation and he could not hear Sandra’s.

"Do I need to make arrangements to reserve a certain park in June?" she asked.

I looked at Pete. The idea has merit.

"We’ll talk about it when I get home," I tell her, not dismissing the possibility. In fact the idea makes my heart soar. Over the last decade I have become a believer in fate and tonight is filled with consequences too close to be random.

"Do I know him?" she asks.

"I don’t think so," I reply, "His name is Pete Campbell. We were in high school together."

"A young man about your age doing an internship in our legal department over the holiday break?" Sandra asks me. "He finished a Political Science degree in three years, passed the LSAT exam in the top five percent, and his law professors in Madison were so impressed with him by the middle of his first semester that they approached us to give him experience over the break. They even asked us to proctor his final exams this week so that he can get an extra week in with us. That Pete Campbell?"

"Mom!" I am shocked. Pete hadn’t mentioned most of these accomplishments over dinner.

"I met him in a meeting today," she said. "He seemed to be on the ball, so I talked with the head of the legal department about him. I think that I remember meeting his mother at some function at the high school when you were students there. I remember her as being a very remarkable woman. If I remember right, his father is a local heart surgeon."

"We’ll talk more later," I tell her.

"I will be waiting up, Andi," she assures me.

It is going to be a late night.

Putting my phone back in my purse, I apologize, "Sorry, Pete. That was my mother."

He sighed, "I gathered that. I guess that I am going to have to learn The Facts of Life first hand if I want to ask you out again."

"How do you know about The Facts of Life?" I asked mildly surprised.

"Every male in our class knew about The Facts of Life," he explains, "Why do you think I avoided you in high school? The Facts of Life lecture is legendary."

"Does this mean that you are going to ask me out?" I ask him with a flutter of anticipation in my stomach.

"I would like to," he says with a hopeful expression. "I’ve had a great time tonight. I would like to do it again. How about you?"

"I would love to," I assured him with a big smile.

As Sandra had pointed out, the traffic is long gone by the time Pete walks me to my car and helps me dig it out. His car is parked nearby so I help dig out his while mine is warming up.

As we say goodbye, I go up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek, just as Sandra had done to me twenty years earlier. "Thanks for dinner. I will be waiting to hear from you, Pete Campbell."

A huge grin breaks out on his face, "How about doing something Saturday?"

The déjà' vu hits again. Parts of tonight's script are almost word for word the same as my date twenty years ago. I had asked Sandra out for a Saturday ski date at the time. We went out for pizza after a couple of hours on skis together.

"Are you ready for that?" I smile at him. "You will have to face my parents when you come to pick me up."

"You could meet me somewhere," He suggests.

"I tried that once," I told him. "It did not go well. I promised that I wouldn’t do it again."

"I better face the music while I’m still feeling careless," he sighed. "I promised to do something with the family in the morning. How about I pick you up at 2 PM and we go cross-country skiing then we can go out for pizza afterwards."

"Sounds like a date," I smile at him as a chill runs up my spine. "I will be ready."

I give him another kiss on the cheek, then we go our separate ways. I find myself reliving the evening in my mind as I make my way back to the mansion where Sandra is waiting for me. I am almost giddy in anticipation of Saturday’s date. I feel like a boy crazy thirteen-year-old girl again. I am just hoping that I can get my parents to tone down The Facts of Life lecture for Pete. It has been a while since they have given the lecture and I have grown up quite a bit since then, so I can only hope that they don’t scare this man off. I would like a chance to see where this relationship could go.

Twenty years ago, the events unfolded in an eerily similar way. Only then, I was not in fear of Sandra’s parents like Pete is of mine.

As I walk in the door from the garage, Sandra is waiting for me and envelops me in a big hug. She has tears in her eyes as I hug her back.

We just held on to each other for a minute, neither speaking.

She finally whispers in my ear, "This is too much of a coincidence."

"I know," I whisper back.

Ten minutes later, we are sitting cross legged on my bed facing each other after I changed into a warm flannel nightgown, my go-to sleepwear for cold snowy nights.

Sandra reaches out and takes my hands in hers. A feeling of warmth envelops both of us.

"I've been thinking ever since you called," she said. "I felt a shiver up my spine when you asked me if I knew where I was twenty years ago tonight. That was one of the most significant and exciting evenings of my life and I can't believe that I hadn't remembered it at all today. We've come a long way in the last twenty years, you and I."

"I know what you mean," I respond. "I hadn't thought about it either until we walked into the hotel restaurant. A feeling of overwhelming déjà vu hit me and I almost fainted. Poor Pete looked like he was going to try to catch me if I collapsed. Sandra, we had a most wonderful evening. I felt like I was in a time warp, only I was sitting, literally, in your seat this time. We even sat at the same table and same chairs. I am pretty sure that the same Christmas music was playing."

"Do you think that he is the One?" Sandra asks.

"I don't know," I respond with a longing sigh. I surprise myself by saying, "I hope so. He makes me feel different than I have ever felt around a man. It seems like a female version of the feelings I had for you on our first date twenty years ago."

"Do you think that he will ask you out again?" Sandra asks.

I grinned at her, "Ready for another coincidence?"

"He asked you to go cross-country skiing on Saturday at 2 PM followed by pizza," she stared wide-eyed at me.

"Yes," I told her with a silly grin.

"This is just too freaky," she says with a shiver. "It is the same, down to the hour. If he takes you to Sammy's and sits in the same booth, then you will know that fate is hitting you over the head with a 2x4."

"Tell me about it," I sigh, "He knows that you and Tom are going to want to talk to him and he's very nervous about that. He has heard horror stories about the Facts of Life talk since our high school years. The fact that you two own the company he is working for right now just compounds the problem. I am glad that your parents did not do that to me. I am not a teenager anymore, do you think that you can tone it down some this time?"

Sandra smiles gently at me, "I think that this is one time that we can edit the presentation. I don't believe in coincidences so we shouldn't try to scare him away like those other testosterone laden jerks that used to ask you out in high school."

"Jimmy wasn't one of those testosterone laden jerks," I pointed out.

Sandra sighed, "You are right. I do feel sort of bad about that one. You asked him out, not the other around. He was dating you for the money and wasn't interested in pursuing the relationship for other reasons common to testosterone laden teenage boys and we could have gone easier on him."

"What, exactly, is in the Facts of Life lecture anyway?" I asked. "It certainly strikes fear in the heart of the boldest of boys."

Sandra just gives a satisfied smile, "You will figure it out when you have a teenage girl of your own."

Well, I can tell that I'm not going to find out today.

"So," she gets back on topic, "tell me all about it."

We spent about over an hour dissecting everything that was said on that evening's date. I also admitted that I hadn't felt anything close to this since I was a boy crazy thirteen-year-old girl. My heart was a flutter and I REALLY hoped that he liked me as much as I was starting to like him. I spend a good amount of time waffling over what to wear on our ski date. I really want everything to be perfect. Sandra laughed, reminding me I was acting a lot like she did when she was engaged to Tom. She told me that she had been the same way when she first met me as Andy.

When I, as a teen girl, had gone off like this about some boy Sandra would try to bring me back down to earth. Not tonight. She seemed to encourage my ramblings.

"You really have it bad," Sandra points out.

"I know," I sigh, "You know what's really strange?"

"That you see yourself changing your name to Campbell?" She grins.

"Yeah," I dreamily reply, "I have never really seen myself in the role of a wife before. I've tried, but it has never felt right. Right now all I want to do is to march down the aisle in the most beautiful dress that Susie can make to meet him before the altar. I want to make love to him and have his babies. I want to face life by his side. I want to bring happiness to him. I want to discover every beautiful detail of the man and create a relationship like you have with Tom."

"We better get you on the pill ASAP," Sandra grinned. "In the meantime, I will give you a couple of Tom's condoms to carry in your purse. You don't really want to get pregnant before the wedding."

"Mom!" I exclaim, blushing mightily.

"A girl can't be too safe," she smiles knowingly at me.

"As much as I would like to," I tell her, "I don't think that I will be jumping into his bed anytime soon. I want to be sure that he is the One first."

Tom sticks his head in the room to see if Sandra was coming to bed. She tells him to not wait up for her, that she and I are having a serious girl talk. I know that he will get the executive summary in the morning. They share everything with each other.

"I have a good feeling about this," Sandra says as the conversation winds down. "I think that I should see about reserving the park for June."

"Mom!", I laugh, "We've only had one date! But right now, I hope that you are right. We just can't conflict with Kelley's wedding. Or Jenny's, if they ever decide on a date."

"Sweetie," she patiently observes, "you have all the signs. I think that the seeds of love were planted in your heart tonight and are already growing like weeds. I also don't believe in coincidences of this magnitude. I really do believe that fate is playing its hand. I also don't think that you will be able to wait too long for the wedding."

"Well, let's just let the seeds germinate for a while," I tell her. "Who knows if he even feels the same way. Anyway, he has another two and a half years of Law school in Madison and I have maybe another year left in Cambridge. Anything can happen in that time. We should probably wait until at least one of us is done with school before we start tying knots. Not only that, I am worried about the repetition in history being too close to the past. I don't want to have a 'warm up' marriage like ours was."

"Oh honey," Sandra tried to comfort me. "Who knows what fate holds? You know that I don't regret a day of our marriage. While I love Tom more than life itself, I would do it all over again to have you in my life. I really value the time we spent together as wife and husband. You have been my husband, BFF, and daughter and our love has grown with each step along the way. I think that you should go where your heart leads you with Pete and trust fate that all will work out as it should."

"Maybe," I sigh, "But then again, he might run screaming when I tell him my true history."

She laughs at that, "He just might, but I am sure that he has heard the rumors. Just the same, I would wait until things get serious before telling him the details."

"Maybe we should consult Grandma on this," she added.

"No way!" I say in horror. Grandma Broussard is now in her 90s but still living independently. Over the past decade, she and I have been fairly close. I spend time with her whenever we are visiting the Louisiana family. She still is not prone to giving me details when she looks into my future. She just tells me that the magic is pleased with what I have done with the opportunity that it gave me and that she still sees accomplishment and love in my future. "There is no way that I am involving her in this."

Even though I believe her magic to be benevolent, I shudder to think what the magic might do.

"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn't met Grandma?" Sandra asks speculatively. "I do."

"Me too," I admit after a moment's contemplation.

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

As I contemplate her question, I think about the consequences of that fateful day. There is no doubt that the two of us are in a much better place now than we were when we first went to Louisiana. Sure, I am no longer the man I expected to be for my whole life. But I can't even remember when the last time was that I thought about what it was like to be a man. I am completely comfortable being who I am now. I like myself. I like the love that surrounds our family. I like the love of friends that helped me learn to be a real girl. I like the opportunities that lie before me.

"No," I am pleased to say, "I don't regret it at all. I am glad that we went to see her. It is the best thing that we ever did. Things have turned out beautifully, even though it is not what we expected."

She hugs me tightly, "I agree."'

Just then my phone rings. Speaking of the devil, the caller ID shows it to be Grandma Broussard.

"Hello Grandma," somewhat surprised, I answer the phone on speaker. "We were just talking about you."

"I know, dear," she replies. I long ago quit wondering how she knows what she knows.

"Hi Grandma," Sandra greets her. "How are you?"

"I am doing fine for an old woman, dear. Thank you for asking Sandra. So, Andi," Grandma continues getting right to the point, "How do you feel about your date tonight?"

Of course, she knows about the date even if nobody told her.

"Like there are too many coincidences," I reply.

"Your date tonight was no coincidence," she informs me. "But, how do you feel about it?"

"I feel like an infatuated thirteen-year-old school girl," I tell her. "I feel like I am floating on a cloud, and worry that I will scare him away somehow. I want him to like me and afraid that he won't. I feel so confused. I feel like I did when I first met Sandra, in a female sort of way."

"Should we reserve a venue for the wedding?" Sandra asks Grandma.

"That depends on Andi," Grandma replies, "What you do with the opportunities placed before you, Andi, is up to you. You have done extraordinarily well up to now."

"By the way, Andi," she segues, "you will be done with your degree sooner than you think. A wedding this summer would be very doable."

"So," I ask her a bit in shock from her revelation, mentally filing away the comment about my degree for future consideration and getting straight to the most important question, "is Pete the One?"

"You will need to figure that one out on your own, sweetheart," a very typical Grandma response. "If I were you, I'd explore that possibility. Remember that he has a say in this too."

"Do you think that he will freak out when he finds out that I am really forty-one and used to be male?" I asked her.

"What does your heart tell you?" Grandma asks.

"It tells me that I am a confused, love-struck, puppy," I sigh. "It tells me that it wants this to work out."

"Well then, dear," I can feel her smiling over the phone, "make it happen, just like you have with everything other opportunity that you have been given. You heart will tell you what to do and when to do it. It may not be easy but it will all work out the way that it should. In fact, I think that telling him the truth about your past will be the litmus test of how strong your relationship will be. Don't be surprised if he needs some time to absorb the truth. Give him the space to do so. If he can't take the truth, then he is not likely to be the One."

"Grandma," I point out, "I don't want something to happen to Pete like it did to me."

"That was a unique situation," Grandma tells us, "I really doubt that it will happen again. But, how do you feel now about what happened to you? You weren't happy about it at first."

"I am glad it happened," I admit, "Sandra and I were just talking about that. I think that we agree that meeting with you turned out to be the best thing that we have ever done."

"Well," she suggests, "trust in the magic. Things may not turn out how you expect, but have faith that it will all work out for the best. Know this, Andi: the magic has taken a very special interest in you. You are destined to do great things. You will find a man equal to your potential, just as Sandra has."

"But," I ask, "is Pete that man? Right now, I really hope so!"

"You will know when it is right," she gently said. "In the meantime, follow your heart."

"In spite of your indirect answers," I tell her, "I love you Grandma. Thank you for all that you have done."

"And I love you too," Sandra chimes in.

"And I love you two as well," she replies, "I thank that day that you two came into my life."

"By the way," Grandma continues, "I wouldn't worry too much about scaring the boy off with the truth. He has heard the rumors of your true age and former gender but has still been in love with you since high school. The fact that he has asked you out is a sign that he has overcome his fear and can handle the truth. Sandra, I would go easy on him when he comes to pick Andi up for their next date."

"We will," Sandra promised.

"And Andi," Grandma advises me, "Remember what I told you at the wedding about being careful what you do with the boys. You are not infertile."

Sandra grins at me as she informs Grandma, "We've talked about that. Andi is going on the pill ASAP and she will be carrying a couple of condoms in her purse."

"Both are wise precautions," Grandma agrees. "Use both."

"I am not jumping in his bed right away," I inform them as I blush fire engine red. "I want to make sure that he is the One first."

"Very noble of you dear," Grandma says, "and I recommend waiting for the wedding. Don't take sex casually if you want a relationship that lasts, but I understand that couples these days don't wait for the wedding. Look how many of those don't work out. Just make sure that there is true commitment from both of you before you give yourself to him. You will be glad that you did."

"I agree," Sandra says.

"It has been wonderful talking to you girls," Grandma wraps up the conversation, "But now it is time for an old woman to get her beauty rest. Call me if I can be of assistance. Good night, girls. I love you both. I look forward to your next visit."

"Good night, Grandma, We love you too." we say in unison before disconnecting the call.

"Well," Sandra points out once we are disconnected from Grandma, "at least she didn't invite you down for a ceremony."

"There is that," I admit.

"I think that Grandma was trying to tell you that Pete is the One," Sandra said. "You just need to take your time."

Just then my phone chimes to let me know that a text has arrived.

It is from Pete. "Thanks for a great evening. I am looking forward to Saturday."

I quickly text back, "Ditto, and I am too." I am tempted to add some X's and O's but figure that it is too early in the relationship for that.

Sandra grins. "Guess who else is having trouble sleeping tonight. I am sure that he likes you too. Grandma seems to think that he has been in love with you since high school."

"Oh I hope so," I sigh. "I couldn't sleep the night I met you twenty years ago. Maybe it is the same for him."

"I didn't get much sleep that night either," Sandra tells me with a smile. "But you should try to get some sleep tonight sweetheart. I know that you have a couple of important meetings tomorrow."

After sharing a hug, Sandra heads off to bed and I finish my nighttime preparations while humming the wedding march.

On my way back to my princess bed from the bathroom I break into a cheer dance reminiscent of our seventh grade cheer lessons, ending with a punch, "Yeah!" I give in to an uncontrollable urge to twirl. It feels so good. I feel the urge to burst into song, but resist it.

I must be in love.

I love the confusion of new love. It makes my heart sing. I want to shout it from the rooftops for all the world to hear. At the same time, I am fearful that it isn't shared.

I take a moment to pick up and study the crystal that Grandma gave me over ten years ago. It has maintained a place of honor in my room all these years, almost like a shrine. Beside it hang my friendship and wedding band necklaces. It is also surrounded by my Prom Queen crown and various awards and mementos from my middle and high school years. Since the crystal completed its transition to pink years ago, the translucent crystal seems to have slowly become clearer and the pink within has developed a soft soothing glow. You can just notice it across the room in the dark. The crystal seems somehow to be more pure tonight. It may be my imagination, but it would seem that the glow is a little more intense than it has been.

I sit cross legged on my bed, brushing out my long mid-back length hair with a smile on my face, humming love songs, as I contemplate the meaning of all that has occurred this evening.

I can't wait for Saturday to come.

I wish that I was with him now.

Maybe I'll run into him again tomorrow? I certainly hope so. I am going to need to find an excuse to stop by the legal department. What should I wear to impress him if I do? I mentally go through my wardrobe looking for the sexiest dress that is still appropriate for work. I think that I need to go shopping.

Tomorrow will definitely be a sexy lingerie day. Sadly, I don't have much to choose from. It looks like another thing to shop for, I smile to myself.

On a whim I jump up and change into a sexy black see-through baby doll nightie with matching thong that I have buried in the back of my drawers. Once, when feeling silly, each member of the Posse had bought similar ones for a sleepover at the condo during our senior year of high school. It had been a fun party being silly and watching teen chick flicks. We turned off the webcams that weekend and I don't think that they've been on again since. The nightie hasn't been worn since that weekend. Striking poses in front of the mirror I am sure that Pete will drool over this outfit. With my hair down, I look like the definition of a boy's wet dream straight out of a girly magazine. I smile when I think of the next sleepover where this lingerie will make an appearance. Just the thought of what Pete will do to me when he sees me like this gets me all hot.

If things get as serious as I hope they do, I'll have to invite him to a sleepover at the condo. Just the two of us. Things will have to get very serious before that happens. I won't give up my virginity on a whim. Maybe I will open the condo up this weekend and freshen it up a bit. Those old webcams can go. The condo hasn't seen much use in recent years but I still hang on to it. The Posse gathers there each Holiday break for at least one evening. They all still have keys to the place and I know that more than one of them have broken the sacred rule of no boys in recent years. I noticed a large half empty box of condoms in a drawer in the bathroom last time that I was there. I keep thinking that I will move back into the condo when I finish my degree, which Grandma thinks will be soon, but I like being home with the family too. I idly think about making it our first home together before realizing that Pete will be in Madison for a couple of more years. If we marry this summer, I will be moving to Madison too.

I hum to myself as my mind relives tonight's date for the umpteenth time.

I should have kissed him on the lips, not the cheek. I will correct that oversight on Saturday, just as Sandra did twenty years ago.

My mind replays all the events and experiences of the past twenty years that have contributed to who I am now and which have brought me to this point.

Sleep is going to be slow in coming, if it comes at all, but I don't care.

I am such a mess.

While the hopes and dreams of twenty years ago did not turn out the way we expected, I have to admit that I love who I am tonight.

I just hope I can be the woman that Pete wants and that he can love me as much as I am starting to love him! I am looking forward to the adventure of exploring life by his side.

I wonder where we will be twenty years from now.

I can't wait to tell the Posse so, in the middle of the night, I send out a group text:

"I AM IN LOVE!!!!! Details when we get together Sunday."

Not long after, my phone rings. It is Susie. We are quickly joined by Kelley and Jenny in a four way conference call.

I should have known that they would want to know the details. We all did the same with Kelley and again with Jenny when each announced that they had fallen in love. We did it again when they announced their engagements. Even in the middle of the night, news like this can't wait.

It really is going to be a long night.

----<0>----

The End

----<0>----

Author's Note: Thank you for following this story to the end. This story was meant to be different than many others. There was no attempt at angst or evil intent. There are plenty of stories that have both.

I started this story when a couple that is close to me split up when the husband decided to quit fertility treatments after years of trying to have a baby. The pressure was too great for the couple and they went their separate ways. It was, and still is, heart breaking to watch a great love affair end this way. Within months, she remarried and hopes that this will bring her the child that she so desperately wants. This sad story led me to explore another alternative to handling a strained relationship that might have a happier ending.

This story is intended to end in an upbeat and positive way. This story is intended to be about the power of love and friendship, dealing positively with what is handed to you by a higher power or with things outside your control, and an attempt to explore how a person with a large store of life experience and maturity might handle the opportunity of going through puberty again as another gender. It might not fit your ideal of what would happen if someone was subject to the changes that Andi did, but this is my fantasy fairytale and I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I have while accepting it for what it is - a fictional fantasy.

In chapter one, we learned that Pete's and Andi's first date was on 19 December 2019. The same date on which this chapter takes place, and the date that this last chapter is released. Who knows what the future holds for Andi? Pete and Andi will have their ski date in two days time - real time. Their relationship will be unfolding over the next months and years. Should she be encouraged to keep us posted on her adventures? Maybe an annual or semi-annual update? Maybe she will let us eavesdrop on the Posse's Sunday night gabfests from time to time.

----<0>----