Thanksgiving

Sometimes Chaos can be a good thing. The old place was filled to the rafters, but we managed to find places for both visiting families to sleep. I graciously volunteered to sleep at Lucy's place to make room. Hey - I'm a writer, I make up stories for a living. I don't claim they're convincing stories.

Mom was in her glory, everybody but Carrie and Harry were home, although for her it was everybody but Harry. I had my doubts that we would make it through the holidays with everyone not telling Mom that Uncle Harry was now Aunt Sherry who was pretending to be Aunt Carrie, but Mom wasn't interested in unraveling such mysteries.

Lucy and Carlene would be joining the family for our repast. I had been informed that since she was going to be my mother-in-law someday she was now Carlene and no longer Mrs Kesslere, which was news to both Lucy and me. As Lucy and I grew closer I confess to occasional speculations on the mother-in-law part.

As for me, I simply loved being Aunt Sherry full time, not having to worry about who knew or who would be offended. I was me and I was Sherry - with one notable exception. Fortunately the names rhymed and Mom didn't really catch it when somebody slipped.

We had all the old family favorites at the meal, but the nice thing about having brother-in-laws from different families was that they brought with them some of their own family favorites. I was skeptical about the Brussels sprouts, but you put enough garlic and butter on anything and it tastes good. I went back for seconds.

We had reached the stage where the mountains of dishes had been washed and dried, the turkey carcass was simmering in a big pot to make soup stock and those of us in the kitchen were contemplating a postprandial snooze when the old land line phone rang. It took a second or two to realize what that bell meant, with the ubiquity of cell phones nobody has a simple bell ringing when their phone goes off any more.

It was Carrie, calling from wherever she was to wish the family a Happy Thanksgiving. I was glad to hear from my far-off sister, but once again we were faced with the Two Carrie Conundrum. Mom was confused, but soldiered on. We learned that they had actually imported some turkeys for the Americans in the group and even though the stuffing came out of a box it was a good dinner. We taunted her with glowing descriptions of our dinner, what else can you do for a sister?

The big news was that she would be home for Christmas, and bringing along her fiancé. Mom kept looking between me and the speakerphone, just what was I going to do? Carrie finally hung up and Carlene came to the rescue, taking Mom off for a quiet talk.

"The shit is about to hit the fan, Sherry," Pam stated the obvious.

"I wonder what her guy is going to think of a duplicate copy?"

"Not quite a duplicate, you have a semicolon where she has a colon."

"Speaking of shit…"

"Be careful," Lucy said. "You'll scare her guy off spouting that crap," Lucy warned.

"If he can't take it then he's not the right one for Carrie. Too bad Harry isn't around with Dad's baseball bat to scare the guy off."

"Just as long as you and Carrie don't try to play 'guess which twin is which' with the guy," ordered Lucy

"Don't worry, I'm taken, although we may have to go back to wearing blue and pink bracelets when the family is home."

"Taken, eh?" Lucy asked with such innocence that Pam busted out laughing. "With who?"

"You, dear girl. I've been trying to get the nerve to ask, but I can't let Carrie get one ahead of me. Will you marry me, Lucy?"

"Three cheers for sibling rivalry!" crowed Pam.

"I haven't said 'yes' yet."

"Honey, don't try to outdo this broad with a cliffhanger ending. She's a professional," warned Pam.

"Yes."

"I think I just went over the cliff."

"Did you remember your parachute?" asked Lucy

"Nuts! I knew I forgot something."

"Happy landings."

"I'll aim for your bed."

"Get a room, you two," admonished Pam.

"And just where do you think I've been sleeping the last couple of days?"

"Who's sleepy, Mom?" asked my nephew Kurt.

"No one. Your Aunt just had a wake-up call. She just proposed to Miss Lucy and Lucy accepted."

"Way to go, Auntie! Now the right-wingers won't know if they should hate you because you used to be a guy or hate you because you're a girl marrying another girl."

"From the mouths of babes…" was all I could say.

"Hey - you're the babe around here, even if you're getting old."

"Begone, young whelp! You, too, shall become old if I don't put you in the ground first!"

"Yeah? You and what army?"

At which point Lucy stepped behind him and poked a finger into each side of his ribs.

"Meet my General, young doubter."

"No fair!"

"My sister fights dirty, kid," smirked Pam. "Why do you think I got out of the house and married your dad?"

"Because you're seven years older than me and couldn't stand not being the cutest one in the family any more," I answered.

"He's all yours, Lucy. I don't want him."

"Sold!"

As much fun as it was to joust with my sister, I still had no idea how to deal with Mom.

Pillow Talk

Back at Lucy's place, we settled into bed. I stared at the ceiling and mused "Did I do the right thing today?" I felt Lucy's hand tighten on my thigh and hastily added "Not in proposing, but what will happen with Mom?"

"The logistics part is simple. My lease is up at the end of the year, so I move in with you and we take care of your mother together. We get married and I start calling myself Mrs Ballston, flattening all of the assholes who snicker at the name."

"Want to borrow Dad's baseball bat?"

"I could tie pink ribbons around it so it would look more feminine. They might come in handy if I have to tie them up to assert my dominance."

"I bet the IRS just hates to come up against you in tax season."

"Me strong like bull - keep 'em cowed."

"I notice we've avoided talking about Mom."

"Yeah. Maybe because we don't know what to do?"

"It seemed like the simple solution to just let her think I'm Carrie, since Carrie was half a world away. How will Mom be able to handle two of us? Can we convince her that Carrie and Sherry are different people?"

"We have to try, Sherry. My Mother will help."

"I know she will. Not to borrow trouble, but what happens if your mother starts to slip? What do we do then?"

"All move in together and open a nursing home?"

"And which one of us gets to retrain as a nurse?"

"Think of it as research for your next book."

"You're full of good ideas tonight."

"I'm also full of turkey and stuffing. Sherry?"

"Yes?"

"Do we want to have children of our own?"

"I want to say yes, but is it fair to bring them into such an unsettled situation?"

"People have been having children in far worse situations for as long as humanity has been around. It may not be fair, but I think we'd make pretty good parents. There is a time limit, the doctors advise me to have any children before I hit thirty-five or the chances of complications start to go up pretty fast."

"Deadlines. The curse of a writer's life. Now one more deadline."

"We aren't going to solve it all tonight, go to sleep, love."

An Old Friend

We were up early to join Lucy's mother for breakfast, leaving my family to fend for themselves. Since she worked for a progressive company, Lucy had a long weekend for Thanksgiving. Since my boss did whatever I told her too, I didn't have to work either.

"What are you two looking so smug about?"

"As if you didn't know. I think I caught a keeper this time, Mom."

"Strange as it may seem, I think you did, too. Your Uncle Phil may not be so agreeable, though."

"I'm not surprised - or worried. Uncle Phil still thinks we're living in the middle ages and is scared shitless that the renaissance is coming."

"And he still thinks women should be barefoot and pregnant."

"I still want to wear shoes, but we're talking about the pregnant part."

"Don't tease an old woman."

"We appreciate it you haven't asked when you are going to have another grandbaby three seconds after I proposed."

"It must have been at least five or six seconds after you proposed that Kurt gave me the news."

"The kid runs faster than us middle-aged types."

"So - have you set a date?"

"Before the end of the year. There's a CPA I know tells me we can claim the whole year on our taxes even if we get married five minutes before midnight on New Year's Eve. Besides, I want Carrie to be there."

"Oh my! And Elaine still thinks…"

"Yeah, I've been trying to tell Mom I'm not Carrie ever since I came back and it hasn't worked. Not even when I came home as Harry. She just got mad that Carrie was dressing like her brother."

"I simply hate losing my friend like this! Lucy honey, shoot me if I start to go that way. Please!"

"Mom…"

"I know honey, it's just an expression; but there are entirely too many people shooting off guns when they get frustrated these days. Maybe we should all move to Oregon."

"That's a little drastic, don't you think?"

"Of course you're right."

"I'm starting to think that the only thing we can do is wait for Carrie to come home and have the both of us talk to Mom together. Only problem is I remember the first time we got caught being two Carries - not fun at all."

"Lucy, you never told me that story."

"There are some things that are better when parents don't know."

"Tell me that when you two have teenagers of your own."

Now that one set me back, and I could see that Lucy had a strange look as well.

"And how many times did your father say he hoped you would have children as bad as you were? What goes around comes around."

"We'll just send them over to Grandma's house if the going gets tough. Problem solved!"

"Yup. I'm definitely moving to Oregon."

It All Comes Out In The Wash

I had kind of hoped that things would slow down for a while so I could turn my attention to Lady Elaine. I had decided it was time for her to be waylaid by brigands again. Not that this would be a new experience for her, she had been previously waylaid your run-of-the-mill handsome young rogue, a former pirate who had retired from briganding on the high seas to briganding on the dry land, revolting peasants - not physically revolting, the revolutionary kind - and an Evil Sorcerer. I was debating whether to have a Wicked Old Crone or a band of Gypsies do the deed this time.

The Wicked Old Crone had the possibility of cannibalism and a big stew-pot over a roaring fire. Naturally, the Wicked Old Crone would have to remove Lady Elaine's clothing before tossing her into the pot, and removing her clothes always had the advantage of several pages describing the process, not to mention her lush body.

On the other hand, a band of Gypsies - and I know that it is no longer PC to call them Gypsies, but a more modern circumlocution would be out-of-period - could involve a tall, handsome, dark, mysterious young man with flowing hair and dashing mustaches. I could keep the roaring fire, kill the stew-pot and have them dancing frenetically in a clearing in the wilderness to the strains of a weeping violin.

I took the dark, young man and filed the crone for a later book. Damn, I'm good when I get going!

I was contemplating whether a Gypsy would intone 'Stand and deliver!' or simply come galloping up, leap daringly upon the horses drawing the carriage and bring them to a halt when Mom interrupted my thoughts.

"Carrie?"

Uh-oh. That tone of voice didn't sound promising.

"Yes, mother?"

"There's something wrong with the washer."

"OK, I'll come look at it."

I saved my work, backed it up just to be sure and followed her down to the laundry room. Sure enough, the washer didn't sound right. I opened the lid and found it was stuffed to the brim clothes."

"Mom, you have too big a load."

"I wanted to get it all done. They all fit inside."

"I know, Mom, but there needs to be room for the clothes to swish around."

"Oh…"

I was starting to realize just what Mom went through when teaching us how to do laundry properly.

"I'll take care of it, Mom. Why don't you go relax for a while."

"Is that all right?"

"Sure it is, you just take it easy."

I had been recovering from surgery pretty well, the swelling was much less and my incisions were no longer bright red. Even the bruising was mostly gone. However, lifting sodden clothes out of the washer and dropping them into a laundry basket was not recommended exercise for an optimal recovery.

I contented myself with muttering about how I volunteered for this. Laundry was women's work and I was (mostly) a woman now. I could sure use some of Lady Elaine's serfs or wenches to do this for me, but I suppose the life of pounding a keyboard all day is an improvement on beating laundry in a tub.

Trust Walk

If you've ever been to a corporate "team building" exercise - no snickers from the onlookers, please - you may have encountered something known as a trust walk. The victims - I mean participants - are paired up, one is blindfolded and guided through a maze or obstacle course solely by directions from the other. It's supposed to help you grow closer to your fellow workers and learn to trust their judgement.

You may notice that I have chosen to work alone.

Want to kick it up a step? Try trusting your sister to choose the music for your wedding. I consulted with my bride-to-be and she said "Go for it. Caroline had good taste and it's one less thing for us to worry about."

I can hardly wait to see what tune will be playing when I walk down the aisle.

Changes

Having made two very major changes in my life, I now had to cope with the results. First, the name. My lawyer tells me that there is no law against using any name you want as long as it isn't for fraud. This is good because Sherry was who I was unless I made a trip back home.

Now that the changes in my body made my breasts permanent, I wanted to have the name permanent. Besides, bureaucrats are damned hard to convince that your name has changed without an official piece of paper attesting to that fact - unless you're a woman who gets married, of course.

Once I had scheduled my surgery, I had Chad, my lawyer, e-mail the right forms, I signed them and made photocopies of various documents and snail-mailed them back. Old fashioned, I know, but electronic forms are just too easy to spoof. Just ask anyone who has helped that poor Nigerian Prince in his hour of need.

I was incredibly surprised when the finished court order arrived in my mailbox only two weeks after the surgery. I had to wonder how many bodies Chad threatened to exhume in order to get service like that.

Papers in hand, I headed down to the DMV and filled out more forms, sat on a hard bench and waited, explained what I wanted, filled out another form since I had the wrong one, stood in front of a white square painted on the wall and had my picture taken.

It was then that a miracle came to pass - I actually liked my picture! I went home a happy woman, hoping that Mom hadn't got into any trouble while I was gone. No problem - she was watching one of those sappy Hallmark movies and was completely enthralled. No matter how far I progress in my path to femininity, I will never be able to stand a Hallmark movie. As a Romance Writer, even I have standards!

Another downloaded form and I sent the paperwork for my new passport to the appropriate office. Ditto Social Security. The buggers at the SSA were firm that I was not female but they grudgingly changed my name. That was important because the IRS relies on information from the SSA when you file your taxes.

Another change was that Lucy got tired of deciding which place to sleep in and just moved in with Mom and me. At first I think Mom thought it was one of the sleepovers that used to happen when we were kids.

On her good days, I came close to having Mom figure out why Harry was not going to be coming home, but that mental block between Harry and Sherry was as firm as ever. She just got confused when I tried to tell her that I wasn't Carrie and Carrie was going to be home for Christmas.

It hurts to see your parent so painfully confused.

Lucy was my rock and Carlene made quite an effort to be with her old friend. What else could we do?

We Can Still Elope!

Call us naive, but Lucy and I thought we would have a small and simple wedding. Lucy had no wish to be the star of another extravaganza like her first time around and I had no interest in being the transgendered curiosity up there with her. Just family and a couple of close friends, maybe a sit-down back at the house. And we would darn well have it catered.

I guess I just don't have enough experience at being a woman. No way we were going to get that past our mothers.

Seriously, Mom couldn't really figure out which of her children I was, but the word wedding seemed to have unlocked some wellspring of her robust self - at least as far as planning a wedding. Fortunately, Carlene was there to moderate the plans, but neither parent was constitutionally able to associate simple with wedding.

"What do you mean you'll just wear a nice dress?!!!" Carlene's anguished cry echoed form the walls and ceiling. "You're a bride! You're both brides. Nice dress, indeed!"

"Oh dear, Carrie," Mom echoed, "that just wouldn't be proper."

"Mom, we're too old to go for all that stuff. We…"

"What would your brother Harry think if you didn't look like a bride?"

"Mom, remember…"

I stopped right there. You've got to go to where she is, she can't come to you.

OK, go with the flow…

Cue the shopping scene!

I'm just not going to go that far. If you're reading this you have undoubtedly read a multitude of shopping scenes with the mandatory 'getting undressed in front of your mother,' 'squeezing into the corset,' 'falling off the high heels,' and 'there's a beautiful woman in the mirror' sub-plots. Even though I'm a professional there is no way I can make that scene fresh.

We did it, we got the dresses and I certainly did enjoy showing my mother my new breasts. They hadn't really dropped or fluffed to my satisfaction, but they were starting to look like the real thing. I even managed to let Carlene get a peek.

I may have big girl boobs but there's still a lot of little kid in me.

The Fabulous Expanding Wedding

Remember back a little while ago I was talking about having a small wedding for family and close friends? Turns out that my mother was not the only one living in a fantasy world.

Take a look at the guest list:

Bride #1:

Mother	1
Sister Pam	4
Sister Caroline	5
Sister Carrie	2
Aunt Josephine	2
Lawyer Chad	2
Bride #2:
Mother	1
Ex-husband	1
Maid of Honor	4
Sister Sally	3
Sister Samantha	4
Brother Jerry	3
Uncle Phil*	2
*His wife made him come even if he was a right wing grump.
Both Brides:
Officiant	4
Misc old friends	12
Misc Neighbors	7
Grand total:	57!

 
Too bad it's the middle of winter and we couldn't just go and get married in a park. OK, we booked the hall at our officiant's oddball church, put up with the sarcastic comments about it not really being a church and how we could send out for pizza if we couldn't find a caterer on short notice.

Not!

 
Mom did her best to be part of the planning and offered to pay for her daughter to get married. After all, isn't paying for the wedding something the bride's family does? Then what happens when they're two brides?

For further complications, what happens when the mother of this particular bride is no longer able to understand her own finances?

Is it a conflict of interest for me to provide my mother's money to pay for part of my own wedding?