Amiss — Epilogue.
by
Angharad.
The very last in this series.

Nicki’s mum had to deal with her child sooner or later, and while Nicki was pleased to demonstrate her culinary skills–at least to the level of poached eggs on toast–to her new found love, her mother wasn’t particularly impressed. She ate her tea, albeit under sufferance and silently fumed while Sophie gave Nicki a lesson in makeup.

Mrs Pearce finally went back to her room to read her book and try to push all the day’s surprises out of her mind–except they would keep intruding. She remembered how the midwife had delivered her baby and had said, “It’s a lovely little gir–boy, goodness, I really thought it was a girl–but she has a dingle dangle–a very small one.”

She recalled her husband’s exasperation when trying to get their child interested in sport. “He has all the hand eye coordination of a left-handed slow worm. He can’t catch and he kicks a ball like a girl–he throws like one too.”

Her husband was wrong about the coordination though as she found out when she was making a patchwork quilt. Nick asked her what she was doing, so she showed him. He wanted to try so she let him on a couple of scraps of material. He wanted to have a go on the real thing and she told him he couldn’t until he could sew well enough. He went off as she thought in high dudgeon, but it wasn’t. For the next two weeks he practiced sewing in his room until he thought it looked neat and tidy with the stitches the same size. His mum was astonished and from then on let him help with the quilt–as long as his dad didn’t find out–he didn’t.

While in nursery, Nick drew pictures of flowers and trees or teddy bears, his male contemporaries drew pictures of cars or aircraft or warfare. She thought he was just a gentle boy–seemed she was wrong.

Then she was tied up, emotionally and mentally when her husband became sick and for the next several years she tried to keep everyone together, care for a youngster and husband who would eventually sicken and die over a period of three or four years. Nick was very good in that he helped with housework and laundry without so much as murmur. She once even thought he was every bit as good as a daughter. Prophetic or what?

Then when the problem with his gynaecomastia began and he started growing breasts–she couldn’t face more doctors and besides she read that loads of normal boys grow breasts and they usually get reabsorbed or if necessary can be removed surgically. Nick had told her he didn’t fancy that being something of a wimp when it came to pain so she hadn’t done anything except the one visit to the GP–they hadn’t been near his surgery for about three years–but that was about to change.

Downstairs, Nicki was having the time of her life–okay, they weren’t playing with each other’s boobs but she was getting better at her makeup and doing her own nails and Sophie was telling her what clothing went best with what from a catalogue her mum had down by the side of her chair.

Her initial reluctance to be seen as anything remotely girlish, had been demolished by Sophie and now they were having loads of fun. “Look at these shoes, Soph, how can they walk in them?” she asked her new best friend.

“Practice that’s all, you wait, in a year or two that’ll be you.”

Nicki laughed showing a set of immaculate teeth, small teeth for a boy–but not for a girl thought Sophie.

“What are you going to wear to the doctor’s?” she asked Nicki.

“Oh god, I haven’t even thought about that.”

“Well after a bra and panties, I mean.”

“Should I wear those then?”

“Of course–you’re a girl, remember?”

“I know, but it’s all so new.”

“Don’t worry, look if necessary I’ll help you, okay?”

“What, you’ll come with me?”

“I don’t think your mum would be very happy with that and I’ll be in school anyway–but do your makeup and nails and I’ll show you how to make your hair look nice until you can get it cut properly–do this every day you need the practice.”

“Oh okay, show me how to do my hair.”

So that’s what they did next accompanied by much laughing and giggling. For the first time in ages, Nicki actually felt happy and like something missing for so long had fallen into place. She looked at Sophie and beamed her a massive smile.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just so happy.”

“Good, girl time is always good.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

The next day was Sunday and Nicki went round to Sophie’s and Sophie introduced Nicki to her mum, who made them a drink and left them to go up to Sophie’s room and play with makeup and doing each other’s hair.

They also played with something else that left each of them red faced and out of breath. By playing her music fairly loudly and wedging a chair in front of the door, they were able to titillate each other until they each called for mercy. Then they covered up their breasts and sat quietly until they cooled down a little.

Nicki was exhausted, Sophie having brought her to three earth shattering orgasms was too tired to do anything but sit and listen to the music and promptly fell asleep. She had to go at lunch time because Sophie had homework to do and her dad would be back from his golf game.

The afternoon was spent doing some quilting with her mum, who kept looking at her but averted her eyes if she stared back. Finally, she challenged her mum. “Why are you staring at me?” She knew the answer but she wanted her mum to talk about it.

A tear dropped down her mother’s face. “I’ve lost my son.”

“It’s still me, Mummy. I haven’t changed,” which she realised was something of an understatement compared to how she’d looked when she’d left home on Friday to go to school. Then she’d looked like an androgynous girl or an effeminate boy, now there was no ambiguity of what gender she was–it was all girl–from the alice band in her hair to the nail varnish which made her fingers seem more slender than usual.

“I’m still me, Mummy,” she declared hugging her mother who had given way to her sadness and was sobbing on her shoulder. “It’s still me, Nicki, and I still love you.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you look so different. I’m a silly woman, the signs were there but I chose to ignore them–I lost your dad, and couldn’t bear to lose my son as well. I’ve failed you, s..weetheart, trying to keep things the same when it’s obvious they’re not.”

“Mummy, if you don’t want me to be a girl–I won’t, I’ll stay as a boy.”

“How can you? I’ve watched you over the last two days and it would be obvious even to a stupid woman like me that you had found yourself. If you need to be a girl to be happy, then that’s what I’ll help you become.”

“Are you sure, Mummy?”

“Yes, daughter, I am certain.” With this they both began to cry as the emotion of the moment overcame them both. When they had calmed down they talked about how each of them felt and what they needed to do next.

“What d’you want me to wear to see the doctor?” Nicki asked her mum unsure of whether they should keep her burgeoning girldom under wraps until the doctor had been seen.

“That blue skirt and top and your new shoes.”

Nicki nearly fell over in shock. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, that’s your nicest outfit so wear that and I’ll do your hair for you.”

“Won’t that be a bit of shock for the doctor?”

“He’ll cope–we won’t give him the choice–if he doesn’t like it he can lump it, but I suspect he’ll be okay, just a bit surprised.”

The next morning, Mrs Pearce phoned the surgery and got an appointment in the afternoon with their usual doctor. She then phoned her salon and booked an appointment for Nicki to see her hairdresser. When she told her daughter, Nicki was astonished and a little scared. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course I will, but I want you to look your best for the doctor–hurry now, we only have twenty minutes to get there, Abigail got you in on a cancellation.”

Fifteen minutes later, Nicki walked into the salon in total terror and feeling quite sick.

“So this is Nicki, come along lass, let’s see what we can salvage from this unkempt mess,” she led them to her station and helped her on with the cape. Nicki clutched her bag in fingers which were hurting they were so tense under the cape.

“Relax, girl, I’m only washing your hair not hurting you.”

“Sorry–this is all a bit new to me.”

“So your mother said, and you’re off to see the doctor to get it all sorted then?”

“Yes, this afternoon. It probably sounds silly but we both tried to ignore the symptoms and it was my friend Sophie who pointed out the obvious.”

“When was that?”

“On Saturday.”

“What? You’ve only been a girl since Saturday?” Gasped Abigail.

“Not really, I’ve been one all my life but I only realised it on Saturday.”

“Wow–so what are you using to pad out your top? Socks?”

Nicki blushed, “Um–no–that’s all me.”

“You’ve got boobs?” Abigail had stopped washing her hair and was standing by the side of her.

“Um–yeah–have done for a few years now–but they’ve suddenly got bigger in the past few months.”

“And your mum said nothing about them?”

Nicki’s mum had agreed what sort of cut would suit her daughter and popped out to the shops, so she wasn’t privy to their conversation.

“She took me to the doctor some time ago, but I’ve been hiding them ever since–oh she did get me a sports bra for gym.”

Abigail was gobsmacked and shook her head then finished washing her client’s hair. Half an hour later, Nicki was sporting a short but elegant haircut which left no doubt about which gender she was. Her mum came back and hugged her–“You look so pretty.”

“Thanks, Mummy.”

They went out to lunch–just a light meal of jacket potato and salad–as neither felt very hungry. To distract her daughter from the upcoming appointment, Nicki’s mum took her shopping for a new bag and matching shoes. Just for fun Nicki tried on a pair of quite high heels and astonished herself in being able to walk in them, although they did pinch her toes a little. They weren’t too expensive, so she decided she’d come back and get them with Sophie, possibly at the weekend, when her mum would be elsewhere because she wasn’t terribly approving of such shoes.

In the end, she settled for a pair of ballet shoes in red with a matching satchel styled bag, although much smaller than a school satchel. By the time they’d bought this and some more earrings, it was time to go to the doctor’s and the tension began to mount.

Nicki’s mum had booked the appointment in her own name, not Nicki’s so as not to draw any attention to her child’s dilemma. They sat in the waiting room and tried not to show how nervous they each were. What seemed like hours later, they were called and holding hands they tapped on the doctor’s door and he bid them enter.

“Mrs Pearce, how nice to see you again, young lady: how can I help you?” said Dr Small, something of a misnomer as he was over six feet tall and broad with it.

“It’s not me, doctor, it’s Nicki who needs to see you.”

The doctor looked a little surprised but when Mrs Pearce explained he understood the deception and then the problem.

“So, it looks like you’ve been wrongly assigned at birth–it does happen,” he concluded after examining Nicki and seeing that except for a small ‘penis’ the child had a very feminine shaped body, and the penis was small and non erectile, really just an extended urethra. How had nobody noticed when she was a baby that there was something wrong? But it seemed they hadn’t.

He took several blood samples and a swab from the inside of her mouth. He also suggested she stay off school for a week or two until they knew exactly what her situation was, but he was pretty sure it was either AIS or some chromosomal problem which would show the child would be either shown as female or would be better living as such.

He also arranged for an urgent appointment with an endocrinologist and child psychiatrist to help deal with any emotional problems that could arise, although the child looked pretty happy to his eyes once she’d overcome her initial shyness.

They shook hands when he finished and thanked him. “Well, whatever happens with the specimens, I think you’re doing the right thing, Nicki. I’ve changed over your name on the computer to Nicola and your gender to female, so you won’t have to feel embarrassed to see me again. Good luck, come and see me in a couple of weeks and we should have the results and hopefully you’ll either have seen the others or be close to doing so.”

“Thank you for being so helpful and not...” Nicki blushed.

“I’m surprised that the lovely young woman before me presented as a boy the last time I saw her, but from what I can see, the boy was the mistake, not the young woman. I’m sorry we didn’t spot it earlier but hopefully we can try and put things right now.

“I don’t have a problem with gender things as we’re beginning to understand they’re much more biologically based than we once thought. I’ve seen a couple of people who were happier after changing over, and I was glad to help. So rest assured on that score, I won’t have any problems dealing with you, any more than I do with any other lovely young woman. So off you go and enjoy yourself, you’ve had a bit of a late start, so you’ve got some making up to do.”

Nicki waited until they’d got back to the car park before she hugged her mum. “Thanks, Mummy.”

“Nicki, you don’t have to thank me for caring for you–it’s what mums do.”

“I’m not, Mummy, I’m thanking you for being you and helping me to be me.”

“Okay, girl, let’s go home and have a nice cuppa–I think we’ve earned one–and I love what Abi did with your hair–you look really pretty.”