© 2012, by Susan J. Charles. All rights reserved
Edited by Holly H. Hart

In no time at all, Cindy’s wedding came. She’d finally settled on bridesmaid’s dresses that could be reused for other formal occasions. She didn’t want her bridesmaids to have a bunch of unusable dresses sitting in the back of their closets.

The morning of the wedding, we all went in for makeovers. They did some great things to my hair. My nails were shaped and painted to match my dress color, and my brows were shaped a little. They chose makeup with accented my red hair and eyebrows. In short, I walked out feeling as feminine as I had ever felt. When I put on my dress and matching heels, I felt so pretty and was proud to be standing up supporting Cindy.

I couldn’t help think about my wedding when I’d been standing on the other side of Cindy. I decided that standing there in a dress and heels was much better and more comfortable than I’d been in a tux with the tight bow tie around my neck.

As the minister pronounced Cindy and Jake husband and wife, I was pleasantly relieved to find that I wasn’t jealous or resentful at all. Instead, I felt a great happiness that my friend was joined to the man she loved.

Ken was waiting at the table when we arrived at the reception after what seemed like endless pictures of the wedding party. He looked very handsome in his tux. I realized that at some point, I’d stopped looking at him as just the father of Deanna, Sarah and Millie. He was an attractive man with whom I had a lot in common.

We ate and then the dancing started. As I joined the rest of the bridal party in the second dance, Ken swept me into his arms and held me tight as we waltzed around the floor. I really liked being held by him and was finding a pleasant satisfaction out of responding to his moves. We began to almost move as one in time with the music and I lost myself in feeling that. We moved and swayed and dipped and enjoyed the moment.

When the music slowed, Ken swept me close to him and our tempo slowed. It was then, I realized that I could feel something against my thigh. I remembered the sensation from my past. Apparently, Ken was enjoying how close my body was to his. And, for the first time, I began to wonder about his body. What he looked like under that tux. Specifically, what that thing pressing against my leg looked like. That led to wondering what that thing might feel like in my new place. Certainly, he felt bigger than I remembered being when I had one. But those memories were starting to blur. After all, I’d spent more time trying to hide or deny its existence than I ever had studying it. ‘But’, I thought, ‘I could probably spend some time studying Ken’s.’

Too soon, the music ended and the band took a break. Reluctantly we returned to our table.

“So, how do you know Cindy?” Ken asked to make conversation.

“Oh, we met in college,” I replied. Immediately I was in turmoil. How much should I tell him? I valued the friendship of he and his family. What would he and/or they think if they knew my past? Yet I didn’t feel right lying to Ken. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I didn’t want to risk what might happen if he knew.

Yet, I knew to the depth of my being that I couldn’t lie to him. If I did, he’d never trust me again.

Fortunately, I was saved by the throwing of the bridal bouquet. We girls gathered behind Cindy and she let the flowers fly in a high arch. We all reached and it bounced from hand to hand.

No, I didn’t catch it. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to. We all congratulated the girl who caught the flowers and made suggestive remarks about what her evening was going to be like. Then I had to go back over to Ken.

We started to talk again. Ken told me he was sorry I hadn’t caught the bouquet, and I told him I really didn’t mind. I wasn’t ready for what catching the flowers implied.

“Well, you will certainly make a good mother sometime,” Ken said. “I can’t get over how much cleaner the house is since you started teaching the girls about housekeeping.”

“They just needed to know that there is a difference between ‘boy clean’ and ‘girl clean,’” I replied. I then proceeded to tell him the story of the time Karen and I, when we were little girls, had decided to have a formal tea party.

“We were probably about four or five,” I remembered. “We dressed up in Karen’s nicest dresses for our party in Karen’s back yard. But we decided two just wasn’t enough for a proper tea party. So we dressed up Karen’s cat in her third best party dress. Things were very prim and proper until the people next door let their dog out. It started barking at once, and the cat tried to head for the nearest tree. But it couldn’t move very well in the dress. Out came the claws and the dress was shredded. Luckily, the dress got caught on a branch of the tree and we were able to grab the cat and get it out of the remains of the dress.

“But just about then, Karen’s mother came out to see what all the fuss was about. When she saw how the dress was ruined, she just about had a fit. Then she saw what the dresses we had on looked like after we’d climbed the tree to get to the cat. Let’s just say she wasn’t at all happy. As punishment, we had to learn how to really clean a house. We cleaned and cleaned. A white glove military inspection wouldn’t be as complete as what she put us through. We cleaned and recleaned and recleaned. Finally, she took pity on us and taught us how to really clean a house.

“Then, we had to learn how to sew so we could repair the dresses. Finally, we had to design and make a new dress to replace the one the cat ruined. So you see, I’m just passing on what I learned.”

“Sounds like a very wise woman to have turned a punishment into a teaching experience,” Ken said.

“I learned almost everything about being a girl from her,” I said. “My own mother was always working and away a lot.”

“Well, Karen’s mother was a fine teacher,” Ken replied. “And I’m very grateful you are passing some of your knowledge onto my girls.”

“Well, you know what they say about playing it forward,” I replied. “I know it’s been rough on the girls now that their mother is gone. I’m just trying to help where I can.”

Just then Cindy came up and greeted us.

“Oh Jessica, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said hugging me. “Everything has just been perfect because of you. We finally got it right this time.” She hugged me again and gave me a little kiss on the cheek before moving away.

“This time?” Ken asked.

Yeah,” I replied without thinking, “the last time at our wedding everything that could go wrong did. It was almost a complete disaster.”

Then I stopped, shocked. Had I actually just said that out loud? Oh crap!

Unfortunately, Ken was smart and he was quick.

“Your wedding? You mean you and Cindy? What, did you two get married during that time in California when it was legal? You two are lesbians?”

“Yes and no, Ken,” I said, tears starting to come. “I won’t lie to you. We aren’t lesbians. Cindy and I were married as husband and wife.”

“She was a guy?” he asked.

“No, I was,” I said seriously starting to cry now.

“But you were just telling me about when you were a little girl,” he said puzzled.

“I’ve almost always been a girl,” I said. “But I was born with a male body.”

“You are a guy? I find that hard to believe. I’ve seen you in the Sea Gal getup.

"Wait a minute, if you’re a guy, you’ve given my girls baths!” He was beginning to move from puzzled to angry.

“No, I am not a guy. I’m all woman. Look, this is difficult, but try to understand. I was raised as both a boy and a girl. I went back and forth. When I met Cindy, I tried very hard to be a man and we were married for a while. But I failed miserably. I found out that I’ve always been a girl and am so very much better at it. So I got rid of the male side of me. It was a woman who has been with your girls, not a guy.”

I fumbled in my purse for a tissue to dab my eyes. I was going to have to spend some serious time in the ladies room soon. Ken stared at me. To his credit, I could tell he was trying to understand.

“I...I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“Look, I know this is a shock,” I said. “I didn’t know how to tell you, or even if I should tell you. But I find that I can’t lie to you. You and your girls mean too much to me to even attempt to lie.”

He stood up. The bulge in his pants was gone.

“I need time to think,” he said. “We’ll talk.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

I ran to the ladies room and slumped down on a toilet in a stall and cried my eyes out.

Eventually, Karen came in. “Jessica, what’s wrong? I saw you run in here.”

“Oh Karen,” I wailed, “I’ve made such a mistake. I let it slip to Ken that I used to be Mark, and I’ve lost him. And I love him so much!”

For the second time in a very short time, I paused, shocked. I’d said what out loud? I loved Ken? Oh crap, why didn’t someone tell me?

Next: Final Chapter