Last year, when I was fourteen, my dad took me to the opera. Dad, a real opera lover, was always telling me that going to the opera could change your life, but I didn’t really buy it. Anyhow, he didn’t take me there to watch it, but to act as a supernumerary, or extra. The opera was Aida, and I was selected to be one of several spear carriers. Once I was chosen as a super I was separated from Dad, and the costume and makeup department painted my skin red, put me in a smelly costume, and gave me a spear to hold.

The blocking guy in charge of the extras called out, “All you spear carriers follow me,” and led us to a school classroom-sized room. He explained our blocking and had us walk through our marks a couple of times.

We then waited in the wings, and at the appointed time he sent us out stage left, and we tramped around as he had directed, and then right back offstage, stage right. I couldn’t see the audience due to the bright lights, so it felt like no big deal. People were singing around us and doing things, but we kind of ignored them. I don’t even like opera, but this was fun.

We came offstage, got the costumes off and some of us tried to get the paint off our skin. Although there were a lot of sinks, there were no showers—not that any of us had brought showering accouterments (towels, soap). Poor Dad had been one of the slaves, wearing a pretty skimpy tunic with a lot of skin showing, and had been painted a dark brownish color over much of his body. It would be a lot harder for him to scrub that off than for me! I only had my face, neck and arms to do. Maybe a little bit on the legs too.

“I just hope a cop doesn’t stop us on the way home,” he said. “I don’t know how easy this would be to explain!”

This year Dad and I presented ourselves to the extras casting guy, and were again separated. I didn’t know what I would be, but this time I was led to a different dressing area with two other short young guys. The only costumes I saw were white dresses, like from the 1890s. The staff quickly had us down to our underwear and started getting us into female clothing. I’m sure that none of us were expecting that. One guy started to balk, but the woman handling him told him it was only a costume, that they had no women supernumeraries available today, and that having men in female roles was a very old theater tradition. I wasn’t sure what to think, but I was there to do a job and have fun, so I went along with it.

They dressed us up in the gauzy white dresses, put wigs on us, made up our faces, and then stylish hats went on. Thus dressed we were sent back out to the blocking guy. I don’t know about the other boys, but I sure felt conspicuous.

Our job would be to sit in a certain place, and just…sit there. We could fan ourselves with a fan if we liked, but otherwise, just sit until our cue to get up and slowly stroll offstage.

This time we got our places before the curtain went up. I felt like the actual opera company all knew we were boys, though most hardly gave us a look. A couple of the women smiled at me, so I smiled back. Some singers exercised their voices while we waited; others just chatted with each other.

Soon enough the curtain was raised and there we sat. I pulled out my fan and demurely fanned myself now and then, while the opera company sang and stomped around. I was surprised how long we were there until our cue to exit. It had to be seven or eight minutes, as opposed to the quick on-and-off business from last year.

On exiting back to the dressing area I saw Dad, still in his regular clothes. Evidently there had been no role for him this time. He didn’t recognize me until I said, “Hi Dad!” His eyes widened considerably.

“Wow! You look kind of amazing, Bobby. Here, let me take a quick picture,” he said, pulling out his phone and snapping a pic before I could object.

I continued on to the dressing room and was helped out of the dress. I actually thought it was nice, and even though it was kind of smelly, the way it held me felt good, not that I’d ever admit that.

Getting my clothes back on, I went back out to stand in line to be paid my three dollars. When I rejoined Dad he did another double-take. Oh yeah, the makeup!

“Even though it’s kind of overdone, you still look like my daughter,” he said, smiling.

“Thanks Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes.

-o0o-

Once we got home and inside, Mom and my older sister, Lindsey, now were the ones to do the double-takes.

“What on earth kind of role did you have this time?” Mom asked.

Before I could answer, Dad showed them the picture on his phone. I felt my face turn red, and ran upstairs to the bathroom to clean the makeup off. I had to scrub a long time, and my face felt raw.

Back in my bedroom there was a knock at the door, and my sister came in.

“What’d you run away for? You looked great!” she said.

“I would rather he hadn’t showed you,” I said. “I don’t want that picture getting out at all!”

“You don’t think Mary would like it?” she said, referring to my girlfriend.

“I’d die if she saw it,” I replied. “She’d probably drop me like a hot potato.”

Changing the subject, she asked, “So what did you have to do as this Victorian beauty?”

“Oh,” I said, perking up a little. “There were three of us, and we just had to sit around and fan ourselves from time to time. The opera singers didn’t pay any attention to us.”

“Sounds like fun. And you got paid for that?”

“Three whole dollars. I could buy a… a, big candy bar!” I said, laughing.

“So, did you like wearing the dress?” she asked, a bit more seriously.

“Well, ah, um, it was comfortable, but all the costumes there are kind of smelly. I wonder if they ever wash them!”

-o0o-

The next day I met Mary as usual and we walked to school together. She asked about the opera.

“Oh, it was fun. I was just another anonymous extra,” I said, averting my eyes.

“It just sounds exciting, to be on the stage of the big famous opera.”

“Well, there’s an element of excitement, but you can’t see the audience. It’s as if that side of the stage is a huge black wall. Don’t get me wrong, you know they’re out there—you can feel them, but you can’t see them. You mostly have to concentrate on being in the right place at the right time and getting off the stage on your cue.”

“Do you ever have to do anything other than walk?”

“Um, last year I carried a spear. This year I just had to use a fan now and then,” I said, accidentally.

“A fan? What sort of part was it?”

“Um, uh, I’m not sure. It was supposed to be hot, really hot.” I said, not-so-coincidentally starting to sweat.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re hiding something,” she said.

“Wha-, who, me?” I said, guiltily. “Gosh, I’d better hurry. I have to see someone before class!” I said, and took off running. I really didn’t handle lying very well.

-o0o-

After school we met up again to walk home. Now she looked at me speculatively, in a way that made me a little uneasy.

“So, Bobby. What was that opera called again?”

“I really can’t remember, Mary. I wasn’t watching it, and I didn’t get a program.”

“Was it by any chance the opera that has the three Victorian maidens sitting and fanning themselves?”

My eyes flew open. Then I put some things together.

“Any chance you’ve spoken to Lindsey today?”

“Oh, Lindsey, your sister? I might have seen her during lunch.”

My shoulders slumped.

“I can see she talked to you. Are you going to break up with me now?”

Now it was her turn for her eyes to widen.

“Why in the world would I break up with you? Just because you wore a dress? I think it’s cool. I really like the idea of a boyfriend who wears a dress! I wish there was a picture.”

This time I didn’t try to lie, since I was no good at it.

“My dad took a picture, but I don’t want anyone to see it.”

Her eyes lit up, and I’m sure she was already scheming how to get him to send it to her.

-o0o-

On Saturday Mary was over and, of course, asked my dad to show her the picture. He asked my permission, which made me happy, but since I knew Mary probably wouldn’t give up, I said it was okay to show her.

“Ooh! That’s really cute!” she squealed. “You look very sweet. Are you wearing a wig?”

“Of course I was wearing a wig. You don’t think my hair would go back in a bun thing like that, do you?”

“Maybe not, but you do have enough hair to make into a stylish do,” she grinned.

“All right. I’m embarrassed enough now. Can you stop?”

-o0o-

On Sunday Mary had invited me over in the afternoon. Her folks were out, so she brought me up to her room and we talked for a while. Then she got a serious look on her face.

“Bobby, you know I really like you, right?”

“Well, yeah, sure.”

“And that I would never wish to hurt you,” she continued.

“Yessss,” I said, trying to figure out where she was going with this. “What is this about?”

“I’m dying to see what you look like in modern girls’ clothes,” she said, looking very hopeful.

My girlfriend wants to see me in girls clothes??

“I don’t understand. Why would you want to see that?”

“Because you look so good and so pretty in that picture, I just want to see it for myself. In person.”

She moved closer to me and gave me a passionate kiss, so that my thinking kind of went a little fuzzy. Ish. Fuzzy-ish!

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she said, kissing me again.

“Oh, all right,” I said, caving in far too easily.

Though I was fifteen, I still hadn’t started my growth spurt, so Mary and I were about the same height. She got out a kind of girly pink blouse, bra and skirt and asked me to get out of my clothes.

I felt extremely self-conscious standing in front of her only in my briefs. First she put my arms through the bra straps and fastened it behind me. After she nestled a couple enhancers into it she helped me with the blouse buttons. She then handed me the skirt and told me how to put it on, with the zipper in the back. I was able to zip it myself.

She stood back to take a look.

“Hardly any leg hair. Good. Take off those socks,” she ordered, and I did so. She looked happier. Getting a pair of peds and a pair of flats from her closet she said to put them on, and though they were just a little tight, they actually fit! I could have sworn my feet were way bigger than hers; obviously my shoes were!

Coming up to me she reached behind and pulled out my hair elastic, fluffing my hair up around my face, and then looked searchingly into my eyes. She gave me a soft kiss, and I felt myself heating up, both from her assertiveness, and from the feel of the clothes.

Then she sat me down and did a quick makeover, and pulled my hair in various directions. Finally she simply parted it in the middle and put a cloth headband on me which had a bow on the top.

I looked in the mirror at what she had done, and I was frankly amazed. If I thought I looked like a girl at the opera, this girl was ten times more girly. I looked up at Mary.

“You look really pretty, Bobby!” she said. “I love it!”

I didn’t understand why she loved it, but I was happy she didn’t want to break up. She pulled me to my feet and we put our arms around each other and started making out.

After as thorough a make-out session as we ever had, we lay on her bed next to each other.

“So can you tell me why you like me like this?” I asked.

“I’m not sure I can explain. There’s just something about you looking like a girl that I really like. Remember the other day when I said I really like the idea of a boyfriend who wears a dress?”

“Yeah.”

“That was even before I saw the picture of you, and now that I’ve seen the real thing, I’m sure I like it! I mean, maybe if you were a giant, hairy, muscley guy I wouldn’t think so, but as you are you just look so good, and it’s really fun to know you’re my boyfriend under those clothes.”

“Well, okay. I still don’t get it, but I’m relieved you don’t think I’m some kind of sissy.”

“No, not at all. It’s a turn-on.”

We were just lying there next to each other, holding hands, enjoying each other’s company and warmth. She had turned on some music, and at some point we thought we heard a door close.

“That’s odd. My parents aren’t due back for a couple more hours,” said Mary.

We sat up on the bed, but we didn’t hear any more. Within a minute, however, her mother was there, standing at the open door. My heart jumped into my throat. She looked kind of surprised, maybe because our makeup was pretty smeared from all the kissing. But she apparently decided to ignore that for now.

“Mary, please get ready to leave, and you’ll have to ask your friend to leave too. We have to go right away.” She walked away.

I paled at this, and was stunned she hadn’t recognized me.

“Mom, what’s up? Where do we have to go?”

“I’ll tell you in the car,” she called back.

“What am I supposed to do?” I whispered urgently.

“I’ll put your clothes in a bag and maybe you can find somewhere on the way home to change? I’m really sorry about this.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but I obviously didn’t have much choice. We both went into the bathroom and she cleaned up our faces and reapplied my lipstick. Back in the room she got my stuff into a bag and handed it to me.

“Mary!!” called her father.

“Coming!” she yelled.

“You’ll be fine,” she told me. “You look perfect, and so cute. It might be scary, but have faith in yourself. Take smaller steps, and think of me!”

Dreading what was to come, I went downstairs with her and then right out the front door, bypassing her parents, who were in the kitchen.

And there I was. Outside. Wearing a skirt and blouse, and with breasts, my heart pounding. I would have frozen like a deer in headlights but I wanted to get further from her house so her parents didn’t get another look at me. Well, her mom.

I walked very slowly, remembering to take small steps, racking my brain to think of anywhere I could either go in looking like a girl and coming out like a boy, or some hidden area. Nothing at all was coming to mind. It was just houses around here. I passed a woman walking a dog and she gave me a smile, so I smiled back. I guess that was my first test passed. I was aware of the skirt lining caressing my legs, and that distracted me somewhat, because it really felt nice.

It was only three blocks to my house from Mary’s, and before I knew it I was already turning onto my street. It made me very happy that no one was outside. I just couldn’t think where I could possibly change. So, do I brazen it out, and answer the inevitable questions? Ugh. Could my family please not be home???

Shrugging in defeat, I walked up to my house and entered through the back door. My mom was in the kitchen, and looked at me in surprise.

“Can I help you, young lady?”

I stood and fidgeted for a while, until my mom started to see past the makeup.

“Oh my. Bobby?? Is that you?”

Turning even redder than I thought was possible, I answered.

“Yes, mom.”

Now she began to smile.

“I’ll just bet there’s an interesting story coming,” she said.

“Oh, well, not all that interesting,” I said. Might as well just tell the truth.

“Let’s hear it anyway.”

“You remember how Mary wanted to see that picture of me at the opera?”

She nodded, still grinning.

“Well, she kind of wanted to see for herself. So she got me all dressed up, but then her parents came home unexpectedly and they had to leave right away, so there was no time for me to change back. I looked for a place to change on the way home, but there just wasn’t anywhere!”

“Well, you do look very pretty like that,” she said. “Kind of like Lindsey. Did you enjoy doing it?”

Thinking of the necking, I smiled, probably giving her exactly the wrong impression.

“I see,” she said. She had an interesting look on her face that I couldn’t interpret.

“I think you can get up to your room without your father and Lindsey seeing you. They’re in the den. Oh, and you might want to use cold cream on that makeup.”

“Thanks, Mom!” I said, and sneaked up the stairs to the bathroom. That hadn’t gone so badly.

In the bathroom I quickly changed, found the cold cream and started rubbing it all over my face. Seemed like it was working pretty well, much better than soap and water. I gave myself a little inspection and didn’t see any traces of makeup. At that point it hit me that even if I had found a place to change, I would have still walked in to the house wearing makeup!

-o0o-

That night Mary phoned me, and I asked her what the big deal was that they had to rush out of the house like that.

“It turned out to be so silly! Someone gave them tickets to a show while they were away, and they only got home in time to pick me up. And I didn’t really care about the show. I would rather have stayed on the bed with my girlfriend!”

Blushing furiously, I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“So did you get home okay?”

“Believe it or not, I had no problems. I couldn’t find anyplace to change, so I walked right in to the kitchen and my mom was there.”

“Oh no!”

“No, it was okay. I just told her the truth, she smiled and told me to use cold cream to get the makeup off.”

“Whew! I’m glad you were okay. I spent most of the time after we left worrying about you.”

There was a pause, while a nice warm feeling flooded over me.

“The funny thing is that after we got home my mom said we needed to talk, and then asked if I was a Lesbian! It was all I could do to keep from laughing.”

“But did she ask you to explain the smeared makeup?”

“I told her we had been experimenting with it and had gotten silly. That seemed to satisfy her. Oh, by the way, your name is Mindy. Naturally she asked me who my friend was.”

“Mindy? Man! Am I glad she didn’t recognize me!”

“Wellll, if she had, then I wouldn’t have had to listen to The Lesbian Talk.”

“I think there would have been a whole new talk though.”

She laughed.

“So, how about doing it again next weekend?” she asked.

“Wow, you’re really into this!”

“I really am! I loved the way you looked today, and it was so hot making out with you while you were dressed.”

“Oh, well, um, I liked it too.”

“I could tell!” she said, with a smile in her voice.

-o0o-

After that she managed to get me into various outfits when we had time to ourselves, dresses, skirts, you-name-it. I liked a lot of the clothes, especially knee length and longer type skirts; the minis made me feel too exposed. Mary enjoyed making me up, and trying different looks and hairstyles. I was really glad her parents were away every weekend! She said they were taking some kind of course for couples.

She figured out a way to make me look even less like Bobby, which was to put a pair of retro cat’s-eye glasses on me. Combined with the makeup and hairdos, she said no one at all would recognize me. She started calling me Mindy during these dress-up sessions, and worked with me on gestures, my walk… in other words, teaching me to act like a girl.

It wasn’t long until she began her campaign to get me to go outside all dressed up. Even though I had walked home the idea petrified me, but she kept at me until I agreed to walk around the block. And absolutely nothing happened! It felt a lot different being in a warm breeze wearing a sheer blouse and a skirt, and I mean different in a nice way.

Of course it didn’t stop there, and eventually she convinced me to take the bus with her to the mall in Hendley, the neighboring town, which was only about thirty minutes away. That was kind of fun. We just walked around, window shopping, and had a snack in the food court. Girls and boys both looked at me in a way I wasn’t used to… more appraisingly. The adults were different too, but I couldn’t put my finger on how, exactly.

Mary and I grew a lot closer during these sessions, and I decided I really liked being able to look like a girl. Still, I did kind of wonder when puberty would finally hit. It sure didn’t seem like I’d be able to keep doing this once I grew tall and hairy.

-o0o-

One afternoon, when just Mom and I were at home, out of the blue she asked me if I was still dressing up.

Knowing myself as I do, I’m sure my instant look of guilt was easy to read. I went ahead and admitted it.

“Yes, Mom.”

“How often?”

“Most weekends, when Mary’s parents are away.”

“Obviously you enjoy doing it, or you’d stop.”

“Well, I think it’s kind of fun being able to look like a girl. But I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to, since one of these days I’ll probably get big and hairy.”

“You sound sad about that.”

“Well, it’s been fun. We’ve even been out together.”

She looked alarmed at that.

“It’s okay, we’ve taken the bus to the mall in Hendley a couple of times, just to walk around and look at stuff.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? What if someone recognized you and attacked?”

“Mom, you didn’t even know me when you saw me dressed up. That’s why we went to Hendley instead of our mall. And we always stay together.”

She still didn’t look happy about it.

“Is this how you feel when Lindsey goes to the mall?”

“Lindsey has experience dealing with boys; you don’t.”

“The few times boys have spoken to us, Mary handles them. She’s pretty good at it!”

She looked at me without saying anything for a while.

“Should we be getting you your own clothes?”

“Oh, um. I don’t know about that. Mary doesn’t seem to mind me using hers.”

“Still, her clothes are not going to last as long with the two of you wearing them, not to mention shoes.” She paused. “I might enjoy going shopping with my other daughter!” she said, with a grin.

“But, like, you know, puberty? I’ll shoot up like Dad and you’ll have wasted that money on clothes I can’t wear.”

“Well, son—or daughter—you never know what lies ahead. Maybe you won’t end up ‘shooting up.’ My father, your grandpa Fred, was not very tall. In fact he was just about your height. You might end up taking after him. So what do you say? We could go get you a few outfits and some shoes.”

“I, um, gee, I don’t have any clothes here to shop in.”

“Well, Mary could go with us and help pick a few things out.”

“I guess I wouldn’t mind having some of my own clothes, but don’t you think Lindsey would end up finding out about it?”

“Bobby, I really hate to burst your bubble, but both Lindsey and I have noticed traces of makeup on you after you spend time with Mary, so I don’t think she would be that surprised.”

Great. All my extra care in eradicating all traces of Mindy, all for nothing!

“I’ll talk to Mary about it,” I told her.

-o0o-

“So, looks like I got myself a part-time sister,” said Lindsey, later that evening.

I glared at her, but she waved my glare away.

“Don’t worry. Mom told me not to tease you. I do like the idea of having a little sister though. I’d love to see you as your alter ego.”

“Linds, I’m really not planning on dressing up at home,” I assured her. “This is just something between me and Mary.”

“Am I such a terrible sister that you’d deny me this little pleasure?” she pouted, rather melodramatically.

Rolling my eyes, I told her, “No, Lindsey, you are, of course, an excellent sister, one of the best, but this is kind of private.”

“But Mom told me you two have gone outside—to the mall!”

Thanks, Mom!

“Who’s to say we might not, say, run into each other while you two are out and about?”

“I would say that I would hope the odds against that happening are astronomical. Please stop asking me about this.”

“Okay, sis. You know I’m just teasing, right?”

“Didn’t you just finish telling me that Mom told you not to tease me?”

“You remember that part, do you?” she said, with a mischievous grin. “Just let me know if you want to borrow any of my clothes,” she said, leaving the room. That was probably a joke too, since she was four inches taller than I was.

-o0o-

When Mary and I next talked on the phone, I told her Mom knew I was dressing up, and had offered to go shopping with me.

“Really? That’s great! I can think of some things I think you’d really look hot in!”

“Well, you’re invited to go with us, and I’m sure I could use your moral support.”

I held the phone from my ear as she squealed happily.

-o0o-

The way we arranged things was that on Saturday morning, I’d walk over to Mary’s and get ready. Then my mom would drive over and pick us up. We’d go to the mall in Penton, which was further away than Hendley, and even less likely to be a place we would run into anyone we knew.

After breakfast Saturday I walked to Mary’s, and soon she had me in a camisole, with a button-up blouse over it that had very few buttons, and a skirt. Just as we finished the makeup my mom pulled up, and we left the house.

Mom took a good look at me. She had only seen the original version, not the Mindy version, and she looked as if she wasn’t sure it was me.

“Yes, Mom, it’s me.” I waited a beat. “Mindy.”

“Mindy, is it? Well, Mindy, you look very nice. You too, Mary.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. I couldn’t let my girlfriend outshine me on a shopping trip, could I?”

“Of course not, Mary!”

We got to the Penton mall in about forty-five minutes. Between Mary and Mom I came away with four skirts, four blouses, three dresses, various items of lingerie, and two pair of shoes. I was afraid Mom was spending too much on me, but she seemed to be having a blast and waved my concerns away. She asked me to wear one of the new dresses out of the store.

On the way home, she detoured to a medical supply shop and had us wait in the car as she went in and bought a pair of breast forms. (B-cup, for those of you interested) “I want my daughter to have something high-quality to wear in her bra,” she said. “These can be glued on, in case you’d like to wear something revealing, Mindy.”

I was starting to get a little freaked out by how into me being her daughter she was. But I really couldn’t complain. She hardly seemed to have any problem at all with me dressing up, and really was supportive. Overenthusiastic, even.

All in all we had fun. I had never been an eager shopper before, but it was kind of exciting to try on different dresses and skirts, and enjoyable. It was weird for me to bring the clothes in to my own house, though, rather than to Mary’s, and I was very happy that Lindsey wasn’t home when we arrived. Also, I couldn’t make out how the clothes being at my house would work without Mary there. Did Mom think I was going to dress up on my own? (…Was I??) It just seemed like a lot of pitfalls were waiting to happen.

Mary helped me put the new clothes away, gave me a deep kiss, and after she left Mom came into my room and sat down with me.

“Mindy, I know you may have some questions about our shopping trip, but I just want you to know that there will be no problem if you want to be my daughter here at home.”

How did she know what I had been thinking?!

“Mom, I can’t dress up with Lindsey and Dad here! Dad wouldn’t like it, and Lindsey would probably give me grief from here to …um, eternity.”

“Lindsey has been told in no uncertain terms to keep any teasing thoughts to herself. As for your Dad, he knows what you’ve been doing.”

I felt myself pale, and a sense of dread came over me. Mom, of course, noticed.

“He says he doesn’t understand it, but doesn’t have a problem with it, and if it’s what you want to do, he will support you.”

Wow. I really felt like this was getting out of control. It was just some fun between me and Mary. I choked up a little.

“Mom, I… this is just for fun. I don’t want to be a girl, but I like being able to look like one. Sometimes.”

She put her arm around me. “Honey, I saw how comfortable you were today, and how naturally you acted. I’d guess that Mindy is a bigger part of who you are than you may realize. As long as you’re careful about it, I think this side of you is something worth exploring, even if it is just for fun. You must certainly already have more of an appreciation for the girl’s point of view than you did before.”

I thought for a minute.

“That’s true. People do react to me a lot differently when we’re out than what I’m used to.”

“And I’m happier knowing you’re not trying to hide this from me anymore.”

“Thanks Mom. I love you,” I said, resting my head on her shoulder. She stroked my hair.

“I love you too, Mindy.”

We heard the door downstairs, and I started to panic.

“Just relax, sweetheart. Let them meet their new daughter and sister. It’ll be okay.”

Lindsey was first upstairs, and stopped as she was walking past my door.

“Oh! Hi, little sis!” she smiled, coming in. “You look fantastic!”

“This is your sister, Mindy,” said Mom.

“Hi Mindy! Stand up and do a turn for me,” she said, twirling her index finger. “How did your shopping trip go? I like that dress.”

I turned around for her. “Pretty well, thanks. It’s all hanging in the closet, if you want to look.”

She walked over to the closet as we heard Dad’s foot on the stairs. I began to tremble.

“Shh. It’ll be fine,” said mom.

Dad appeared in the doorway. His eyes widened, seeing me.

“Bill, meet your daughter, Mindy.”

“Well, hello, Mindy. You look very nice. Come here and give your old man a hug.”

I slowly got up and went over to him. We hadn’t hugged for a long time, and I was feeling awkward, but he pulled me into a very warm hug, and whispered, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

I hugged him a little tighter. “Thank you,” I whispered back.

When we released each other he joked, “You know, this really beats other ways of finding out you have one more child than you were aware of.”

That released some tension, and we all laughed.

As he left the room, he said, “Mindy, this isn’t exactly what I meant, but now you know firsthand one of the many ways the opera can change your life!”

--Continued in Part Ii