Christine XII: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving day had always been a big deal in our family. We always took turns going to Grand-dad’s house, Uncle Dan’s, and staying home and entertaining all the others. This year it was our turn. Mom and I had spent days planning, buying all the ingredients, making things like pies and cakes in advance, and getting ready for the big day. This was always a monstrous celebration in our family. This year there would be a vacant chair for the first time: Johnny was on a ship and couldn’t make it home. Josh and his family were going to his grandmother’s, so there was a double sadness for me. On the other hand there would be two new faces: Adam and his mom, much to the delight of Gail who still thought Adam was about the cutest boy in town.

Thanksgiving morning, Aunt Julia and Gail arrived at 6:30 to help Mom and me get the turkey ready and make salads, dressings, and all the other various preparations that had to go on. All four of us were still in our night clothes, so we had a grand old time, just “us girls,” scurrying about the kitchen making various preparations. This would be the first time I actually came face to face with Grannie and Grand-dad since my big discovery, and Gail and I were confident that once they saw me and how pretty I could be, our differences would be forgotten. When they arrived at noon, we were all dressed in our finest. Gail and I had new look-alike dresses, and everyone told us we looked like twin sisters, which absolutely thrilled both of us. We even FELT like sisters.

When Adam and his mother arrived at 11, Adam was dressed in a new dark blue suit. Gail just about swallowed her tongue. “Did you see him?” she exclaimed when she had drug me into the back hallway. “He’s like a god!”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “he looks good.”
“Good!” she exclaimed, “that’s like sayin’ it’s kinda warm in hell. He’s gorgeous!”

Well, he was! He was about as handsome as any nine year old boy I had ever seen. I think he knew it too, because he loved that suit. I didn’t know it at the time, but Mom had warned Mrs. Williams that Grand-dad wasn’t really very thrilled with his grandson becoming a granddaughter, so Mrs. Williams had taken the hint and got him the suit rather than allowing him to wear one of my dresses. Great move! He enjoyed it, our parents enjoyed it, and so did Gail and I.

It was half past twelve when my grandparents showed up. We kids were in my room playing computer games when we heard the doorbell. I had always adored my grandfather. He was a very big man, very assertive, very much an old time he-man cop. He really didn’t relate very well to children and didn’t have a lot to say to us, but we all loved him and I think he loved us, in his own way. So we shut down the computer and went downstairs to see them.

“Gail!” Grannie exclaimed when she saw us. “My, girl, how you’ve grown! And you’ve gotten so pretty! I love your dress. Come and give your old Grannie a kiss.” Gail did, then went to Grand-dad’s open arms and received a patented Grand-dad bear hug.

“Christopher?” Grannie said questioningly when Adam appeared. I could see it in her face, hear it in her voice that she wasn’t sure who it was. “Grannie,” Gail said, “this is Adam. He’s a good friend of ours.”
“I wondered,” Grannie said. “You’re certainly the right age for Christopher and you’re handsome enough, but I didn’t think you looked like the Christopher I remembered. So where is he?”
“She,” I corrected as I came down the stairs. “I’m Christine now, Grannie.”

Grannie looked at me and gasped. She obviously didn’t know what to do, so as she had done for forty years, she looked to her husband for guidance. I followed her eyes to his and there I found a look that would freeze boiling water. “You...” Grannie stammered, “You and Gail... you’re dressed exactly the same.”
“Christine and I like to pretend we’re sisters,” Gail said with a smile. “It’s lots of fun, and most people think we’re twins.”
“Seems like there’s lots of pretending going on here,” Grand-dad said.

“Susan,” Grannie said, “I know what’s been going on here, but I thought, I mean, Thanksgiving and all, I thought you would’ve had him dress more appropriately, knowing how we feel...”
“I think she’s dressed very appropriately, Mum,” Mom said. “And if you’re suggesting that she should have dressed as a boy, well, we’re all done hiding and sneaking around. And besides, Christine doesn’t have any boys’ clothes.”
“None?” Grannie said.
“Not a stitch. And she’s happy, Mum. Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

Well, that seemed to end the issue for the time being. Dad and Uncle Dan got into a conversation with Grand-dad about politics, the ladies all retired to the kitchen to make last minute preparations, so we kids went to the family room to pay a game. I never did get my hug from my grandparents, and that hurt a lot. “They’re just gonna take some time to get used to it,” Gail consoled when she saw the disappointment on my face. “This is the first time they’ve seen you dressed that way.”
“They’re never gonna get used to it,” I said. “But I’m not gonna let it ruin my day. You’re here, and Adam: my two best friends in the whole world, except for Josh, and I’m not gonna let anyone make me unhappy.”

We were scheduled to eat at three. We had one cardinal rule in our family: no TV on Thanksgiving day. The men would have wanted to watch football games and the women would watch the various parades that were on, so it had been decided before I was even born that there would be no TV, so we could all be together as a family and catch up on each other’s lives and enjoy each other’s company. It had worked well until this year, but now there was a cloud hanging over the festivities. That cloud, it appeared, was me. Gail, Adam and I stayed in the family room playing until we were called to sit at the table. I had wanted to help Mom, but with Mrs. Williams, Aunt Julia and Grannie all in the kitchen, Mom told me to just stay with the kids and play. I didn’t know what they were all talking about, but I could guess.

Another family tradition was that Grand-dad, as patriarch of the family, was called upon to say Grace. He always prayed long prayers, and I had always enjoyed every word of them. This year was no different as he gave thanks for his life, his family and his and Grannie’s health and well being; his sons’ business and its success, which was now starting to really show the results of Dad’s and Uncle Dan’s hard work; his grandchildren and the wonders of childhood. He prayed for Johnny, so far away for the first time, and he asked God to keep him well and safe until he could come home. He mentioned Gail and thanked God that his older son had finally been blessed with a child, and such a pretty one at that. Then he thanked God for his other grandson, Christopher, and asked God to bless him and keep him until he came to his senses and saw the lunacy of what had been going on these past six months. “He’s only a child, God,” Grand-dad said in his prayer. “He’s a very young, very mixed-up child. Please forgive this horrible sin that he and his parents are committing, and keep him safe until he again returns to the family that loves and cares for him. Amen.”

We all started to eat. I looked at Gail. From the look on her face I could tell that she was as hurt as I was. I looked at Mom, and got back a look of pure, unconditional love, as I always did. I looked at Dad. I couldn’t read his face, but before I looked away he blew me a kiss. Ok, my relationship with my dad wasn’t perfect, but I knew he was trying and he had told me very clearly and plainly that he still loved me. I had never felt that love as strong as I did at that moment.

The meal continued, with everyone talking to everyone else. How was school, Gail? How did you meet our children, Adam? How’s the business, Dan? What do you do for a living, Jen? And on and on. My grandparents, being the eldest and knowing the least about the lives of just about everyone present, were dominating the conversation as they always did, and that had always been the way it was and it was ok. I didn’t notice at first, but suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks: I wasn’t being asked anything. I was being completely ignored! I remembered Grand-dad’s prayer: “until he returns to the family” he had said. So in Grand-dad’s eyes, Christine was NOT a member of this family.

“Please pass the squash?” I said when there was a break in conversation. No one seemed to notice as the hum of human voices resumed. I asked again. Same result. Being the persistent sort that I am, I asked a third time. This time Grannie, sitting two seats away, took notice. “Dear,” she said to her husband, “Christine wants the squash. It’s right in front of you.”
“Christine?” he said very deliberately, “who’s that?”
“She’s sitting right beside you,” Gail said with a grin. She thought that Grand-dad was playing one of his grandfather games.
“Beside me?” he questioned. “There’s nothing beside me but an empty chair.” I looked for some sign of a grin, some remote sign that this was a joke, but I found none.
“Honey, please,” Grannie pleaded. “Not now!”

As Grand-dad gave his wife one of those looks that said very clearly “shut up, bitch!” my dad got up from his chair and walked down behind his father, picked up the bowl of squash, and handed it to me. “Thanks, Daddy,” I said as I took a spoonful and handed it back to him.
“You’re welcome, Peanut,” he said. There were tears in his eyes. TEARS! But his eyes were loving; tolerant. At the time I felt a warmth from my father; a warmth that can only come from a parent who, even though he doesn’t agree or understand his child’s actions, nevertheless loves that child anyway. I didn’t understand the full significance of his actions or that look just then, but I know now that he probably knew where this was going and hated it; but for the sake of his child he was more than willing to go there.

I thought the incident was over, but it wasn’t. After he was back in his seat at the head of the table, Dad said “I think they’re going to accelerate Christine again. They just don’t seem to be able to give her enough to do to keep her challenged. She is doing so well in school. I’m so proud of her!”
“She’s doing well at the store too,” Uncle Dan added. “Between her and Gail, they are doing almost all the computer assembly and setup these days.”
“That’s really great, Gail,” Grand-dad said. “I’m real proud of you!”

When I saw my father very deliberately set his silverware down on the table, I knew we were headed for a showdown. I felt a shiver go down my spine as he very slowly, very deliberately took a sip of water, then folded his hands in front of him. Mom noticed it too, and so did Uncle Dan and Aunt Julia and Gail. “Father,” he said very slowly, very calmly, “I think I mentioned two children, not one. Gail is doing extremely well, but so is Christine. We all know what you’re trying to do here, but may I remind you that this is MY child, and I will raise him or her the way I choose, until someone convinces me there’s a better way. If you have some suggestions I’d love to hear them because I don’t have all the answers; but coming into MY home and ignoring MY child as if he didn’t exist is just NOT going to work.”

Grand-dad set his silverware on the table in the same deliberate way that Dad had done. Now I knew where Dad had learned that trick. “John,” he said in that same slow way that invoked so much respect from my dad, “I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way by my own son. This is supposed to be a day of thanksgiving. This is supposed to be a day for family.”
“Yes it is,” my dad agreed. “Jen, Adam, please forgive me for making a scene and ruining what I had hoped would be a pleasant family experience for you, but sometimes there are issues in a family that just won’t wait, and this is one of them. Please bear with us.”

“Father,” Dad said in that same slow deliberate tone, “I think you owe my son an apology. I mean, look at him! Actually, I’ll say it the way she wants me to: Look at HER! A year ago you criticized me and found fault because you said Christopher was a very unhappy boy. You said I was doing something wrong, and that if I didn’t correct it then some day in the future he would be one of the street kids that you’ve arrested countless times. This year you come and find a very happy child. Oh yes, that child is wearing a dress, and a very pretty one at that, instead of the pants you’re used to; precisely why that is we are still trying to determine. But right now that’s not important. What’s important is that the depressed little boy you saw a year ago is gone, and replaced by a very happy little girl. I make no apology for that, Father. Not to you, not to anyone! I am doing the best I can for my child, and frankly I am having as much difficulty as you are over this entire situation; but my feelings and yours are not what’s important here. What’s important is the happiness of my son. Or daughter. And you are NOT going to come into my house and compromise that happiness. You abused Dan and me all the time we were growing up with your overbearing, bullying way, and you are NOT going to abuse Christine the same way in her own home. Now I repeat: I think you owe Christine an apology.”

Grand-dad didn’t say anything. He looked at his son in total disbelief. Then he slowly got up from the table and took Grannie’s hand. “Come on,” he said as if he was talking to his pet bluetick hound, “I’m not going any place I’m not wanted, and I’m certainly not gonna listen to a son talk to me like that. We’re leaving.”
“You can leave if you like,” she said defiantly, “I’m staying. I will not be robbed of these beautiful grandchildren any more by your stubborn nature. John is right, dear. You run your own home like a military base and always have, but you can’t expect to come here and impose your own stupid rules. You owe Christine an apology, and so do I. Now sit down and behave yourself!”

Grand-dad didn’t sit down. He mumbled something that sounded like “get home any way you can,” and he left. Grannie didn’t budge! She told us later that it was the first time in their marriage that she had defied her husband, but it felt so good it might very well not be her last.

We had a good time after Grand-dad left. We sat around the table very quietly for a few minutes, then the child in Gail, Adam and me took over and we resumed the wonderful meal before us. As our happy chatter started again, Mom and Dad apologized to Mrs. Williams. “We don’t usually wash our dirty family laundry in front of people like that,” Dad said.
“No apology necessary,” Mrs. Williams answered. “I just wish Adam had a father that would stick up for him like that. You’re a very lucky little girl, Christine.”

It was after 10 by the time the kitchen was cleaned up, all the good dishes put away, and everyone left. “I’ll vacuum if you like, Mom,” I offered.
I can dust,” Gail added. She was sleeping over, as usual.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Mom replied. “The two of you get upstairs and get ready for bed. We’ll be up to tuck y’all in soon as you’re ready.”

Gail and I had long since stopped bringing our own things when we slept over with each other. We just shared our own things... it was so much simpler. We still bathed and showered together, perhaps even more often than we had in the past. I think looking back it was important to me that Gail see me naked because I knew it was the one time that I could allow myself to be seen naked by another girl without any problems or criticism. It was also something of a thrill to both of us that my little wee-wee no longer stood up, ever. Dr. Reynolds’ medication was working.

“I’m sorry you had a fight with Grand-dad ‘cause of me,” I said when Dad had come to tuck us in.
“Just don’t worry your head about it,” Dad said. “We’re gonna get through this, and we don’t need him telling us what to do. But I’ve gotta ask, didn’t you wish just a little that you could be a handsome little boy again like Adam was today?”
“Yeah, Dad, I did,” I admitted, and then the tears started again. “I wish I could be your son, and I wish you could be proud of me again, Dad. I wish I could play baseball an’ basketball, an’ I wish I could be comfortable as a boy, but I can’t. I just can’t!”
“It’s ok, Peanut,” he said. “Please don’t cry... I am proud of you. I’ll handle it somehow. G’night, Peanut.”

Two weeks later, Gail and I were invited to go to Florida for a week with Josh and Amanda. They went every year, Mrs. Reynolds told us, and they would be delighted if we’d be allowed to go along. We were so excited we couldn’t stop giggling, especially when our parents said yes. Uncle Dan had a bit of a problem with it, saying that he had wanted to take Gail to Disney World for the first time; but with the computer store having its busiest time during the Christmas season, Aunt Julia had convinced him that it could be years before he could take her. So two very excited little girls got busy packing.

“I think you should pack some shorts for the trip,” Mrs. Reynolds told me. “It will be a lot more comfortable when we’re traveling, and walking all day at a theme park might get a little tiresome in a dress.”
“It’s ok,” I assured her, “I’m more comfortable in a dress.”
“All the same, I’m putting a couple pair of nice shorts in for you,” Mom said.

I think the trip to florida was as much fun for us kids as it was after we got there. I don’t know if I can say the same for Dr. and Mrs. Reynolds, but they seemed to enjoy themselves. They had rented one of those really fancy vans for the trip - the kind with six big high back captain’s chairs, a really nice stereo and a TV, which we never even turned on. It was a twelve hour trip, and the four of us played games and sang the entire way down, except of course when we stopped to eat.

“Christine,” Mrs. Reynolds said when there was a pause in all the noise we were making, “have you ever thought of taking singing lessons?”
“No, Ma’am,” I answered. “I love to sing, but I don’t think we can afford singing lessons.”
“I’ll have to talk to your mother about it when we get back,” she said. “I think you have a very pretty voice. Oh, and please girls, call us ‘Aunt Karen and Uncle Robert, ok? Mrs. and Doctor seem so formal.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Gail and I replied.

The resort where we stayed could only be described as pure luxury. There were two huge pools, one with a gigantic water slide; there was a big playground with all sorts of activity things, and there were non stop organized activities for us kids. But the highlight, of course, was the visits to the theme parks: Disney World, Sea World, Universal Studios, and my favorite: Fantasy Island, which had been decorated for Christmas with a Grinch theme. I’d had no idea there were so many rides to be experienced.

Gail and I were too small to be allowed on some of the rides by ourselves, like the bumper cars. So Gail went with Amanda and I went with Josh. I loved to sit next to Josh and watch him try to bump his father as hard as he could. I became his lookout, warning Josh when his father or his mother were coming up from behind. Even I was surprised to realize that I enjoyed this arrangement better than having a car of my own to drive.

Tuesday night, the resort had a pool party with a live band. There was free barbeque and hamburgers for everyone, free beer and wine for the adults and free soda for the kids. The idea of all the food we could eat was attractive to us, but the thought of a live dance band was irresistible. So we spent Tuesday shopping instead of going to a theme park so we’d be back in lots of time for the party. Mom and Aunt Julia had given Gail and me very specific instructions that we were not to spend a lot of money because we simply didn’t have a lot to spend, but that didn’t stop Aunt Karen. She bought clothes for Amanda and Josh like they were going out of style, and she did the same for Gail and me. We protested, saying we just couldn’t afford so many clothes; Aunt Karen just replied “Well I can, and I love decorating my children, and for this week I have four children, not two.”

The party was one of the best times I’d ever had. Everyone there seemed to be determined to see how much free food they could eat and how much free beer they could drink, which left a band playing to an empty dance floor. But Josh and I knew exactly what to do about that. Josh was getting to be as good a dancer as most men three times his age, and even though I wasn’t nearly as good, with him I looked good just because he looked so good. He was wearing what Josh almost always wore: light tan cargo shorts with a brightly colored T-shirt; tonight it was a bright green. I had worn one of the dresses Aunt Karen had bought for me: a fluorescent yellow sun dress made of the same knit material that T-shirts are made of. I really loved that dress, and everyone said it highlighted my red hair, which tonight was in a pony tail.

Most of the music was either country or oldies rock ‘n roll: our favorites, and the music we usually danced to at dance club. So we were in our element and we wasted no time making up for all the ones who for one reason or another were refusing to dance. And before long we were singing to the music as we danced. It never once occurred to me that we were dancing in front of a thousand strangers, a thought that would have terrified me a year ago. But this was so different. Everything was so different now. I was a girl, and I knew I was a pretty one. I was confident; I had respect and love, and I knew I was good at what I was doing. So we danced and sang; sang and danced! And we laughed.

When bedtime came, Gail and I shared a room and a bed, as usual. Amanda was in the other bed, Josh was in a bed in his own room, and Josh’s parents shared the master bedroom. Just before we turned the lights out Uncle Robert came in to say good-night. “I was talking to a man who really liked your singing,” he told me. “He told me he’s looking for someone to develop, maybe even to make a record.”
“Me?” I questioned. “But... I just sing because I like it.”
“Are you kidding?” Amanda said. “Everyone likes your singing, Christine. It’s like... I dunno, it just seems that you put your whole body and soul into it when you sing.”
“I gave him your father’s name,” Uncle Robert said. “He said he will be contacting him in the new year. This might be your chance to get some training, honey. Would you like that?”
“Well... yea, I guess so,” I said. “So why’s he gotta call my father?”

“I didn’t feel right giving him any information about you without going through your dad,” Uncle Robert explained. “If he wants to train you for a singing career, that’s something that your dad should have a say in. It might also not amount to anything, but you did sound awfully good tonight.”
“Josh sounded good too,” I defended.
“Yes, he did. I think you two just might have a bright future in the music business, if that’s what you want. I’ll be speaking to Josh about it too.”

I lay awake for hours thinking about what Uncle Robert had told me. Was I really that good? But... what would they think when they learned that I wasn’t a girl at all? Would they react the way my grandfather had, and tell me that I was a disgusting little boy who had been spoiled so bad that I was allowed to go parading around looking like a girl? Would they still like me if they knew? I hardly thought so.

Without even thinking about it I slipped my hand into Gail’s groin to feel the smoothness again that I wished was a part of my body. Gail responded by putting her arms around me in her sleep and whispering, “I love you, big sister.” I didn’t answer. This scene had been played out countless times, and it always ended the same way: with my hand feeling places on Gail that I shouldn’t be touching, and wishing as hard as I could that I felt the same down there. Then I would imagine that it wasn’t Gail’s crotch at all that I was feeling, but my own. And I would fall asleep with that thought in my mind.

“When you wish upon a star...”

I didn’t have time to reflect on my situation any more that week. We went from one theme park to another, saw more attractions than I realized that Florida had to offer. We were always up by 8 to feed the visiting birds in our night clothes, then we would get dressed and have breakfast, then out and on the go for the rest of the day. Uncle Robert carried us sleeping from the van to our beds every single night that week. We were always completely exhausted! One night as he kissed me good-night I think I even woke enough to say “Good night, Dad” or something like that. I was really beginning to love that man as much as I loved my own father. And I think he loved me too. He certainly treated both his guests just like his own two children.

We had a fabulous time in Florida. It was fun pretending that Gail and I were sisters of Josh and Amanda. I think they enjoyed it too, and I know their parents did. They were always remarking about how well we all got along together, and that it was a pleasure to have us along and just seeing us enjoy ourselves so much. We found time to go swimming most days, and thanks to the excellent teaching of our newfound brother and sister, Gail and I were becoming very good swimmers. But then who wouldn’t respond well to them, especially when they were so patient and kind to their two “little sisters?”

I especially liked to swim with Josh. He was always so serious, but he had a lighter side too, which Uncle Robert said I could bring out in him better than anyone else. I loved to laugh and joke with him in the water, but I have to admit I had an ulterior motive. Josh was growing a lot faster than I was, and he was beginning to look to me like a giant oak tree, except that the tree was in the form of a dark skinned, muscular, handsome boy. I certainly didn’t understand all that was going on in my mind, but I knew that I absolutely HAD to touch his gorgeous body whenever I got the chance. So I would jump on his back in the pool, push him down, splash him, dare him to dunk me which he could do with no problem. That would get him laughing, and when he laughed his whole face lit up, his brown eyes sparkled, his immaculate white teeth shone.

Friday morning, Josh and his father got up really early and went golfing. Josh had asked me if I wanted to go and of course I had said yes, but I noticed a look in Uncle Robert’s face that looked like disappointment to me. As if to confirm my feelings, Aunt Karen pulled me aside and told me that this was a father-son thing that they liked to do, and that she’d take me shopping instead. I understood father-son things because of my many fishing trips with my dad, so I agreed. I’m glad I did - Josh told me on the way home that he and his dad didn’t seem to spend much time alone any more and he missed it. Josh admired his dad as much as I admired mine, perhaps even more, and even at eight I didn’t want the same thing to happen to them that had happened to me. I still spent time with my dad and I still adored him, but it was different now. Dad still wasn’t at all comfortable with me as a girl. Sometimes it seemed that he was afraid to treat me rough in any way for fear of breaking me. So Josh had a great time playing golf, and I had a pretty good time shopping. I was still glad that we were leaving for home Sunday morning - I would never have admitted it, but I was starting to get a little homesick.

The van was a lot quieter on the drive home - we were all pretty tired I guess. But quiet is sometimes good too. We kids talked a lot among ourselves, and we talked a lot with the grown-ups too. Uncle Robert asked Gail how she liked working with her dad at the computer store. “I dunno,” she answered almost evasively, ‘I guess it’s all right.”
“You don’t seem very convinced,” Amanda said.
“It’s just... well, he’s never there. He just drops me at the store and then he says there’s something he’s got to do and he leaves. I spend most of my time working with Christine when she’s there, or Uncle John.”
“It’s a big job, starting a business like that,” Uncle Robert pointed out. “From what I’ve seen they’re doing really well, but it takes a lot of time and work.”
“That’s what Mom says,” Gail agreed. “But sometimes no one knows where he is, not even Uncle John.”

I think Aunt Karen realized that we were getting into a pretty sensitive area, so she changed the subject. Gail was rather subdued for a while, but eventually the antics of Josh and Amanda got the better of her and her old cheerful nature was back. That’s what I loved about Gail - she could never stay melancholy for very long.

“Have a good time?” Mom asked when we’d been delivered home and the Reynolds’ had gone to their own home. It was late Sunday night.
“Yeah, Mom,” I said happily. “That place is just like I imagined it would be.”
“So you didn’t miss your old Mom and Dad at all?” Dad said.
“Yeah, Dad,” I said as I hugged him. “It woulda been a total blast if you and Mom had been there.”
“A total blast, huh?” he chuckled. “Well, next time you go, your mom and dad will be there, and that’s a promise. We missed you, Peanut.”

We had one major incident just before Christmas that first year. I was at one of Josh’s basketball games, cheering for our team when a boy approached me. I remembered him from my old school, but I couldn’t remember his name. He had seen me and asked someone my name. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but he knew without a doubt who I was, and he determined to victimize me again like he’d done when I was a frightened little boy. “Hello, Chris,” he said as he sat down beside me at half time. “Remember me?”
No,” I lied. “Should I?”
“Sure you do! Stan Albright. I was your worst nightmare last year. Maybe I should remind you of what fun we used to have.”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” Josh’s voice came from behind me. “You obviously don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
“Who are you?” Stan asked as Josh towered over both of us.
“Right now I’m the best friend you got,” Josh replied. “This innocent looking little girl here is a triple black belt. She can whip everyone in the school, including me. She can hurt ya bad! Believe me, I know.”

Stan eyed Josh curiously. His body was developing fast now, and being more than two years older than Stan, he presented quite a menacing figure to the smaller boy as he stood there in his basketball uniform, his well tanned and muscled shoulders rippling. He looked at me. I doubt that I looked very menacing, but I sure did look female. Could he be mistaken? Perhaps this girl was a cousin or something, or maybe the whole thing was an unfortunate coincidence. At any rate, my young friend suddenly lost interest. “I doubt she’s that tough,” he said as he turned to go. “Don’t matter anyway ‘cause I don’t pick on girls.”

“You’re awful!” I said with a grin to Josh.
“An’ you’re pretty,” he returned as he made his way back to the court. I still hadn’t caught on, but Josh was well past 11 now and in his mind, I was his responsibility. It was up to Josh to protect me, run interference for me, and he took that task as seriously as if we were married.

As the weather got colder, Mom decided that it was time for me to start wearing tights. “You’re gonna hate them,” she told me. “I wish there was some other way, but if you insist on wearing dresses and skirts all the time, we’ve got to cover your legs somehow.”
“But I’m not cold, Mom,” I replied. It was true! I would go out on frosty mornings with my legs bare, nothing on under my skirt but my underwear, and I didn’t seem to feel the cold at all. Sometimes I wore knee socks, but usually only ankle socks.
“I don’t want you catching cold,” she said firmly as she handed me a new pair of tights. These were heavier than any I’d worn before, and as I slipped into them it kept going through my mind that they were almost like the long underwear that I’d worn when I was a little boy, except that the tights were so much more comfortable. They formed themselves to my legs and kept their shape, unlike the long john’s that got baggy after they’d been on a few hours. And an added bonus: they had feet built right in so I didn’t have to wear socks and worry all the time about them being tucked in properly.

“I like them,” I announced when they were on and in place. “I wish they weren’t so heavy, though. I think I’m gonna be too hot.”
“You like them?” Mom said with surprise. “I thought you’d hate them. Most girls won’t wear them no matter what.”
“I like ‘em,” I repeated. “But could you get me some lighter ones? These are too heavy.”

Once again we compromised. Mom agreed to let me wear lighter tights which I absolutely loved, except on the really cold or stormy days, provided that I wear the heavier ones when they were needed. I was to accept Mom’s judgment without argument. I had no problem with that at all. Most of the girls went bare legged all winter, but most of the girls also lost more time due to colds and flu than I did. But the thing I noticed above all others was that no one made fun of me, even though I was almost the only girl in school with my legs always covered. Instead they almost admired me because I could wear “those awful tights” all the time without complaint. Awful tights? I loved them!

There were heavier weight skirts and tops, long sleeves, and something I’d never heard of before: camisoles! These were sorta like a short slip, usually of nylon or cotton. I knew that Gail didn’t wear them, and I suspected that most girls didn’t; but Mom got me several and insisted that I wear them. I didn’t mind really, and I wouldn’t have let on even if I did. I have a very strong suspicion that Mom was trying to show me the worst of being a girl along with the best, but everything she tried to do to demonstrate that being a girl is not all roses, just made me all the more thrilled at being female. Every new article of clothing, every new procedure, every experience was like an adventure to me - one that confirmed my femininity all the more.

To be continued...