All Dolled Up - 9

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By Missy Crystal
All Dolled Up - Part IX

Jamie wants his mother to buy him a doll for a birthday present. She does and a journey of discovery begins for both of them.

I went upstairs to wake up Jamie and get him ready to go out for breakfast. He was sleeping peacefully, with the doll next to him on the pillow. I bent over the bed and gently stroked his hair.

"Wake up sleepy head, rise and shine. We're meeting Merry and her mother at the pancake house, won't that be fun, and then you and I are going to get manicures. Girl's love manicures, that's what you call having your nails polished, and I want you to wear your pretty new white dress. Now we have to hurry. 'Spit spot,'" I mimicked Julie Andrews getting the children ready to go to the park in the 'Mary Poppins' video.

I pulled back the covers, revealing Jamie in her adorable jammies, and playfully pushed her legs off of the mattress, pulling her into a sitting position with my other hand. She looked at me sleepily. I left her sitting on the edge of the bed while I got out her dressy white nylon panties. She was going to wear a sundress, so she didn't need anything under the top. I went and helped her up.

"Undies off, quick like a bunny," I coaxed her.

She slid the panties down and stepped out of them. I handed her the clean pair and picked up the ones she had worn, dropping them in her laundry bin. I unzipped the back of the dress and held it for her to step into, pulled it up, slipped it over her arms and zipped it up. Her white sandals without socks completed the outfit. I stood back to admire her. She looked beautiful. Oh for goodness sake Ginny, you were in such a hurry you didn't take her to the bathroom. Well, she needed to practice going in a dress. Did she? It might not be life skill that she would use much longer. I took her into the bathroom and reviewed the process. A quick once over with a washcloth, tooth brushing, a session with the hairbrush and we returned to her room. I couldn't resist adding her headband, the gold locket necklace, this time with the matching bracelet, and her earrings. We were good to go, except, of course, I needed to get myself ready. I left Jamie with her doll and hurried into my room, paying a lot less attention to my appearance. After all, it was Jamie's day. I collected Jamie, we went downstairs, I got my pocketbook and we left.

Fifteen minutes later, we were at the restaurant. I made a quick check of the parking lot, but I didn't see Helen's car, so we were there first. I went in and gave our name to the hostess. She said there was about a ten minute wait. We sat on a bench in the waiting area. I reminded Jamie to collect her dress when she sat down. About five minutes later, I saw the door open and Merry came bounding in with Helen following her. She ran over to Jamie and hopped up next to her. Helen came over. She studied Jamie and then turned to me.

"You are serious about turning Jamie into a girl, Ginny, aren't you?"

"Please Helen, keep your voice down. Let's go over there," I pointed to the area near the door. I got up and took her arm. "I told you that Jamie was going to continue to be a girl until Monday, when we meet with Dr. Mitchell."

"Yes, but my God, Ginny, I never expected this. You've turned him into a fairy princess."

I glowered at her use of the word 'fairy'. Did she mean to say 'fairytale' or intend to be derogatory? She ignored my reaction and went on.

"Whatever advice Dr. Mitchell gave you to encourage this charade is just plain wrong. I'm sorry, but I won't be a part of it. We have to go." She turned to Merry, "Merry, we're not staying."

Helen walked over and reached out to take Merry's hand.

"Mom, please, I want to eat with Jamie. Please, Mom?"

"No, Merry, we are leaving now and no backtalk young lady."

She took her daughter's hand and pulled her towards the door.

"Bye Jamie. See you," Merry called over her shoulder.

Jamie waved at Merry's back as the door closed behind her. I looked to see her expression. Luckily she didn't understand Merry's abrupt departure.

"I'm sorry, Honey. Merry's Mom forgot they had something else to do this morning. She couldn't call me, because we had already left, so she stopped by to tell me. That's what we were talking about," I covered up. "We can still have breakfast and go for our manicures."

I went over and told the hostess it would just be the two of us. She had a table for two open and seated us. Jamie got a placemat and a small box of crayons to color with while we were waiting. The waitress came over and I ordered the number two breakfast for me, two eggs, an English muffin, juice and tea, and the strawberry Belgian waffle for Jamie with a glass of milk.

Jamie was full after finishing half of the waffle. I paid and we left. I wasn't going to let Helen spoil the day. How could she judge me and how could she be so cruel to someone so vulnerable? I suppose it was my fault for trusting her. Apparently honesty is not the best policy when your child is transgendered. Well, once bitten, twice shy. At least Dad had one useful expression. I won't let it happen again. So, Ginny, all dressed up and somewhere to go, we're having our nails done. I remembered passing a nail salon in a small shopping center on our way to the restaurant. We didn't need anything fancy.

Jamie was quiet as we drove. I glanced at her to see if she was sad about Merry, but, if it bothered her, she didn't show it. I parked and walked to the entrance. A sign in the window said walk-ins were welcome. Looking inside, I didn't see any customers. We entered and were politely greeted by an older Asian woman. Two young Asian women were seated at stations chatting in their own language.

"My daughter and I would like manicures, please. This is her first time, so it=s special."

The woman looked at Jamie and grinned.

"Yes, yes, mama, special," she agreed. "I do. Come."

She motioned us to an open manicure station and pointed to the chair.

"She sit, prease."

I had Jamie sit down.

"You go, mama" she pointed to the station opposite where one of the young women was sitting. I went over and sat down. I was nervous that I couldn't see what was happening with Jamie. I tried to watch over my shoulder, but the older woman smiled and waved for me to turn around.

The woman doing my nails added her assurance. "Hi, I'm Kim. Aunty Mai raised three daughters. My sister and I," she pointed the orangewood stick she was holding at the other girl," are her nieces. This is a family business and we take good care of our customers, especially the young ones," she said with a big smile. I turned back and decided to enjoy being pampered for a little while.

Kim was very good. When it was time for the polish, I chose a dark red. She applied it in long smooth strokes. It wasn't until she finished and my nails were under the dryer that it struck me I hadn't chosen a color for Jamie. What would it be, I wondered? Oh well, it didn't matter really.

"Do toes, mama?"

"Aunty wants to know if you want her to give your daughter a pedicure too?"

"Rittle toes, no pay," Aunty offered as an inducement.

It may well be a once in a lifetime experience for Jamie and the price was certainly right.

"Yes," I agreed. "Thank you."

"Jamie, the nice lady is going to make your toes look pretty like your nails, Honey. It's called a pedicure."

"You come, prease."

Aunty took Jamie's hand. Looking towards the back of the salon, I could see that there were chairs set up with foot baths. I hoped Jamie was going to enjoy her day, or at least morning, of beauty.

"Go ahead, Honey."

"You too? No charge. Introductory offer," Kim enticed me.

"No, I couldn't. Please, only if I pay for it."

"Okay, you win. One dollar, American money," she teased me.

I knew when to give in.

"Okay, you drive a hard bargain," I teased her back.

She laughed and brought me to the back. I sat down in the chair next to Jamie. It really was delicious to relax and forget about everything that had happened. Having a daughter was an advantage. I could never do this with Jamie as a boy. It didn't seem fair. If Jim was around, then he and Jamie could do guy stuff, but that left me out. I wondered how Dad felt with two girls. Did he envy Mom? Did he secretly wish that one of us was a boy? Was it different for fathers? Were they more detached from their children than mothers? What if Jamie went back to being a boy? No, he couldn't go back to being what he already was. What if it turned out that he wasn't transgendered? Would our relationship change? How could I let that happen? There must be way for a mother and her son to be close. I suppose I could do guy stuff with him. Be a soccer mom or a Cub Scout den mother. He'd look a lot cuter in a Brownie uniform. Did they still wear those silly beanies with the loop on top?

"Other foot please," Kim directed me, interrupting my thoughts.

When we were finished, the women brought us to the front.

"You like, mama?" Aunty asked me.

I inspected Jamie's fingernails. They were bubble gum pink, with a tiny white flower design on the pointer fingers and his toes matched, except for the flower. Aunty really had done a beautiful job, much more than a usual manicure. What a sweet woman. I wished we could make this a regular routine.

"I like them very much. They're lovely. Thank you."

I took out my wallet and handed her a credit card. I didn't even bother to check the amount. I just signed the charge slip. Aunty was the owner and I didn't want to insult her generosity by offering her a tip, but Kim certainly deserved one. I took out a ten dollar bill and offered it to her.

"No, please. One dollar, American money," she insisted.

"No, please take it. This morning was priceless. I'm not sure if we will be able to come back. We may be moving," I made up as a reason, "so please let me thank you for your kindness. Please."

I put the money on her station and she accepted it graciously.

"That is very generous. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Thank you."

I took Jamie's hand and we left. I looked back at the smiling women. Who cares about Helen!

We got in the car and I tried to think of something else for us to do as mother and daughter. I looked over at Jamie, sitting like a little angel with her pretty hands resting in her lap. A tea party would be perfect. I imagined Jamie with a group of little girls in pinafore dresses, sitting in a circle with their dollies next to them and sipping tea in little floral decorated china cups. Too bad my little Alice doesn't have a magic rabbit hole to tumble down, I sighed. We could go shopping, but there was no point in expanding her wardrobe until we knew whether she wanted to be a girl. Should I ask her, I wondered? Jenny tried at our last session and upset her, but maybe it was too soon then. Jamie had more time to sort out her feelings.

"Jamie, your nails look very nice," I began casually. "Do you like being a girl?"

She looked at her hands.

"Yes."

Brilliant, Ginny, wrong question. Yes, she agrees her nails look nice, or yes, she likes being a girl, or yes to both? And why wouldn't she like being a girl with all of the attention she's been getting. That's just the type of encouragement that Jenny had cautioned you against initially. Even if she likes being a girl, does that mean she wants to be a girl? She likes vanilla ice cream, but it doesn't mean she wants to have it every day for the rest of her life. Is that a silly analogy? And even if she does want to be a girl, is it because she thinks that's what you want her to be, you certainly act like it, or because it's what she wants for herself? Should I ask her the right question? What is the right question? Do you want to become a girl permanently? Are you really a girl? Not on the outside. On the inside? Would she understand the difference? Would it be the right answer? Only Jenny would know and you still have three days before you see her again.

We arrived home and I sent Jamie upstairs. She hadn't had any playtime with her doll today and I expected she would enjoy the opportunity. I puttered around, trying to decide how to spend the rest of the week. Other than socializing with another girl, which was out of the question, given my experience with Helen, there was nothing left for us to do that was uniquely feminine. What would happen, I wondered, if Jamie went back to being himself? Wasn't he still himself, just wearing different clothes? What would happen, then, if I went back to dressing him as a boy? Whether he refused or accepted the reversion would be a good indication of how he felt about his gender. Even better, as a boy I could take him to visit Karen's family. Excellent, I will call her tonight.

The rest of the evening went as usual. I didn't want to spoil her manicure and pedicure by letting Jamie soak in a bath and she hadn't done anything that would require one, so I just gave her a once-over with a washcloth. Since tonight might be her last as a girl, I let her wear her panties and nightgown to sleep in. I completed her girl's bedtime routine by brushing her hair, cherishing what might be our final activity as mother and daughter. I read her a story with the doll resting on the pillow between us, waited for her to get drowsy and tiptoed out. Looking back, I lingered over the vision of my little sleeping beauty and struggled with the thought that the next morning's waking kiss would turn her into a prince. Not that there was anything wrong with princes, I reminded myself.

I got myself ready for bed and passed the time watching the news and reading until it was a little after nine o'clock. I picked up the phone and pressed the speed dial.

"Hello."

"Hi, Karen."

"Ginny, I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you. How are you and Jamie doing?"

"Honestly, it's been difficult. We, well I, had an unpleasant experience with the mother of the little girl Jamie met in the park."

"The one you were worried about, because she was going to be in Jamie's class?"

"Yes, her, Merry."

"How did you happen to run into them?"

"Actually, I arranged it."

"Ginny?"

"Well, I decided that Jamie should socialize as a girl, so I called her mother. She had given me her number, so the girls could get together. I thought I could keep things under control by not letting them get too personal, so I invited them to go to a puppet show. After the show, I suggested we go out for ice cream, but Helen, that's Merry's mother, asked us to go back to their house. I know I shouldn't have, but this was the first time since this all started that Jamie had a playmate and they got along nicely on the playground and at the show, so I thought it would be harmless."

"Obviously, it wasn't," Karen anticipated.

"Well, it was, up to a point. I told Helen that we could only stay for a little while, because I had to go shopping, so I would have an excuse to leave. She thought she was doing me a favor by offering to let Jamie stay for dinner while I went to the store. That led to her suggesting that Jamie do a sleepover, so I didn't have to rush back. I don't know why, Karen, but I felt guilty about the deception. I tried to say no politely, but I ended up by telling her the truth."

"And she reacted badly?"

"No, not badly. She was, it's hard to explain, curious, or maybe dubious is a better word, I don't know, as to why a boy would want to be a girl. I think she believed that this was just some kind of whimsy in which I was indulging Jamie and that he or I would eventually realize that there is no reason to be a girl if you weren't born one."

"Why were you bothered by her questioning the benefit of being female?"

"It didn't bother me, it encouraged me."

"What?"

"I told her about Dr. Mitchell and that we had an appointment with her on Monday to make a decision. I thought she understood and would go along with letting Jamie and Merry being friends until then. So, the next morning I called her and invited them to join us for breakfast at the pancake house. She said yes. I got Jamie dressed really pretty, in a white cotton sundress. When Helen met us and saw her, she got angry and walked out. Luckily, Jamie didn't catch on. That's why I was upset, because it was a mean thing for Helen to do after leading me to believe that she didn't mind Jamie was a boy and she wanted to be my friend.

"I'm sorry Sis, but if you knew the woman was dubious, to use your word, why did you challenge her by dressing Jamie up. You could have had him wear something less conspicuously feminine. If I was analyzing your behavior, which I'm not, I would say that subconsciously you were testing her acceptance of Jamie as a girl."

"Karen, no, I wasn't. I wanted Jamie to look pretty so she would have something in common with Merry."

"Merry was wearing a dress too?"

"No, I mean that they were both girls. I wanted Jamie to feel really girlish."

"Why?"

"I thought that Merry would like her better that way."

"Did Merry not like him the way he was before?"

"No. They got along fine. I just wanted Jamie to look pretty. What's wrong with that?" I asserted defensively.

"Ginny, nothing is wrong with that in the abstract. Jamie is supposed to be exploring his gender. Obviously, something is wrong with that in real life or it wouldn't have ended the way it did. I'm not being critical, Sis. I know you meant well, but I'm at a loss to understand why you got together with the girl in the first place, considering how anxious you were about their being classmates."

"Karen, it's been really hard for me to find things to do with Jamie as a girl and I felt guilty about her being with me all of the time. I wanted her to have some fun and you didn't want her to play with Debbie and Cindy, so Merry was the next best alternative."

It was Karen's turn to be defensive.

"I did what I thought was best for both Jamie and my family, Ginny. You know that."

"Yes," I conceded, "I do. I'm sorry, Karen. Actually, that's why I was calling. Jamie's done about as much as she can do as a girl, so I was going to let her return to being a boy. I was hoping that we could spend the weekend with you. I mean, you don't have to. I'd understand. I, well, I really need to be around someone supportive after what I went through with Helen. Could we Karen? Would it be alright? She'd be a boy and she doesn't have to bring her doll."

"Ginny, for goodness sake, of course you and Jamie can come for the weekend, with a doll, in a dress, it doesn't matter. If you need us, we're here for you, Sis."

"You've changed your mind?"

"I thought it would be best for both Jamie and my family, if they didn't seem him as a girl until we were sure he was one. That was a preference, not a prohibition, Ginny, and, since you've decided to bring him as a boy, it doesn't matter, although you might want to stop referring to him as 'she' and 'her'."

"Oh, yes. I, well, I've been so careful about not outing him that I have to get out of the habit of referring to her, him, as a girl. Once she's, he's, back to being a boy it will be easier. I really appreciate you letting us come, Karen. It means a lot to me," I sniffled.

"When will you be here?" she asked, moving our conversation in a less emotional direction.

"Jamie isn't up yet and I want to straighten up the house before we leave. How about around dinner time, would that be okay?"

"Of course, Ginny, I'll do barbeque. Jamie likes hot dogs, doesn't he?"

"Yes. That would be fine."

"Great, I'll do the works, potato salad, coleslaw, pickles and watermelon for desert. It'll be just like old times, Sis."

"Thank you, Karen. I need some nostalgia. I wish Jim was here" I added with a note of sadness in my voice. "If he was, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Ginny, this isn't a mess. Jim might have had a different view as to how to deal with Jamie, but he couldn't prevent it or change it any more than you can. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself, just because you had a bad experience. I'll see you tonight. Love, you."

"I love you too. See you tonight and thanks again."

"You're welcome again."

I hung up the phone and went upstairs to wake up Jamie.

"Sweetie," I whispered, so as not to startle her.

She, well she was still in girl mode, rolled over and opened her eyes.

"Good morning, rise and shine. We're going to Aunt Karen's this afternoon, so we have to get ready."

I went to her dresser and got out a pair of white cotton briefs.

"Arms up."

I slipped the nightgown over her head and folded it neatly, putting it in her bottom bureau drawer with her pajama set. I handed her the boy's underpants. To my surprise, she put took off her panties and put them on without any resistance or reluctance. It was the same with the rest of her boy's clothes. Was she just being compliant or didn't she care. I suppose there was no reason why she should. Her feminine outfits were my choice. She never expressed a preference, except to dress the same as her doll, and we seemed to be over that. I suddenly realized I was still referring to Jamie as a girl. He's a boy now, I reminded myself. Well, with his girl's hairstyle, more like a tomboy. I needed to do something about that.

I remembered that Priscilla had offered to do a unisex style. Should I wait to have it cut until after Jenny makes her diagnosis on Monday? What about Karen? I told her I was bringing Jamie as a boy. I decided to call Priscilla. I knew her salon was closed, so maybe I wouldn't reach her. If not, then Jamie would go the way he was. I would put it in the hands of fate, I dramatized.

Once Jamie was ready, I walked him downstairs and gave him breakfast, just cereal with milk and a banana, cinnamon toast and orange juice, nothing fancy. While he was eating, I got the phone book and looked up the number for Priscilla's Pageant and Performance. I dialed and got a recording, as I expected. I left her a message, cryptically reminding her that I was the mother of the redheaded girl who she photographed last week and asking her to call me back this morning. I left Jamie to finish his breakfast while I went upstairs to pack our suitcases. I was in his room when I heard the telephone ring. Could it be Priscilla getting back to me so quickly?

I hurried into my room and answered the phone on the fourth ring. It was Priscilla.

"Hi. I didn't think I would catch you," I greeted her cheerfully, although I had mixed feelings. After the usual pleasantries and thanking her for the photos, I asked whether she had time today to do a unisex cut. Maybe she didn't. No, she could do it at eleven o'clock. The Greeks were wrong. Fate is obviously a man. I confirmed the time and fibbed that I was looking forward to our visit. I hung up and went back to finish packing.

Jamie had come upstairs and was on the floor with his doll. I worked around him, trying to be unobtrusive, but curious about his interaction with the doll. Whatever he was doing with her, it didn't appear to be the kind of fantasy play that Karen and I did with our dolls. We pretended to be the mommies and cared for our babies. From what I could see, Jamie treated the doll like she was his friend, not his child. I finished packing, closed his suitcase and took it into my room. I still needed to put in his toothbrush. Karen would have toothpaste, shampoo and the other bath items.

I kept an eye on the clock and at ten fifteen I asked him to get ready to leave. We got in the car and I drove to Priscilla's salon. On the way, I told Jamie that I was going to have her trim his hair, so it would be easier to take care of when he started school, which was true enough. We arrived at the salon about fifteen minutes early. I went up and tried the door. It was locked, so we walked to the coffee shop a few stores down. I got an iced tea for me and an iced chocolate latte for Jamie. We sipped on our beverages while we waited for Priscilla to arrive. A few minutes before eleven a yellow convertible pulled up in front of the salon and a tall, attractive woman got out. There was no mistaking Priscilla. I took Jamie's hand and we went out to greet her. She unlocked the door and had us wait while she deactivated the alarm and turned on the lights. Once we were inside, she directed us to her station in the salon area. She had Jamie get in the chair and looked him over, turning his head from side to side. She took me aside.

"It appears you've decided to let him be himself," she said discretely. "Do you want a regular boy's haircut?"

"He's always been himself, Priscilla," I politely disagreed. "Whether he's more comfortable as a boy or a girl is what we've been trying to decide. For the time being, he's a boy and I want him to look like one. You suggested a unisex style. I'd like that please."

"Of course, Mrs. McCarthy. He'll either look like a very boyish girl or a very girlish boy, depending on how you dress him. Is that what you want?"

"Yes, that would be a good compromise."

"I can always take a clipper to him later," she jested.

"I can always buy him a wig to cover it up," I countered, provoking a smile.

Priscilla took Jamie over to the sink and did the same shampoo routine as before. She toweled him and brought him back to the chair, using scissors to shorten the back and angle the sides, leaving a fringe over his forehead. When she was finished, she used a styling brush and blow dryer to smooth it into shape.

"Viola," she pointed with the brush.

I expressed my approval of the attractive little boy who emerged. I thanked her, offered to pay, which she refused, gave her a hug and had Jamie do the same, and asked if she wanted before and after photos. She laughed and told me that she didn't want to spoil the illusion. She walked us out and waved goodbye as we drove off.

By the time we got back home it was almost one o'clock, so I made Jamie a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich and gave him a glass of milk. While he was eating, I finished packing. We really didn't need a lot for the weekend. Play clothes for Jamie, a sweatshirt if it got cool, and some jeans and shorts for me. I could borrow a sweater from Karen if I needed it. I went into the bathroom and thought about taking my cosmetic bag. I wore makeup for Jim, when he was home, but had stopped using it, except for lipstick. I studied my face. There was no need to impress Dave, but there was no need to look like a Russian peasant either. I found a pair of tweezers and plucked my eyebrows into the semblance of arches. I had forgotten what a pain, literally and figuratively, it was to look pretty. Since I had been spending so much time with Jamie, I hadn't been in the sun and looked pale. I rummaged through the vanity drawer and found a tube of some type of bronzing stuff. God knows how old it was, but I supposed that it doesn't go bad. I took a dab and applied it. Satisfied with the improvement, I continued with the application.

I made my bed, straightened up the room and then went into Jamie's room and started to make his bed. He came in as I was pulling up the spread. His doll was on the pillow. I handed it to him to hold while I finished.

"Okay, Sweetie, it's time to go."

We started downstairs and I noticed he still was holding his doll. I considered saying something, but decided not to make it seem important. Maybe he would realize he had it with him on our way out and leave it downstairs or maybe he would take it with him in the car, but not bring it into the Karen's house. It was his choice. Karen said he could bring the doll and there was no need for me to be involved, although his leaving it at home when he was a girl and taking it with him when he was a boy seemed backwards. Then again, I was becoming quite aware that six year olds don't think like adults.

I put our suitcases in the trunk and we pulled out of the driveway. It was about two thirty and the trip usually took a little over an hour. Leaving now, we would avoid the Friday rush hour. I looked over at Jamie in the passenger's seat with his doll in his lap and remembered the pretty little girl in her white sundress and bubble gum pink nails who had been sitting next to me the day before. Bubble gum pink nails, Ginny. He still had them! So much for going to Karen's as a boy. I pulled over, waited for traffic to pass and made a u-turn.

"Jamie, Honey, We have to go back home. We need to take off you nail polish. It will only take a minute."

Did I even have nail polish remover in the house? I must have some somewhere. We pulled into the driveway and I took Jamie upstairs to my bathroom. I rummaged through the vanity and found a bottle and some cotton balls in the back of the cabinet under the sink. I watched Jamie for any emotional reaction as I applied the saturated cotton ball and swabbed off the polish nail by nail. I supposed that having polished nails was not something that mattered to him. Girl's, well most girl's, like to look pretty, because they're indoctrinated into our beauty culture by their mothers. There's no reason why he should be disappointed about having something unfamiliar taken away.

I inspected his nails to make sure there were no traces of pink and touched up a few areas around his cuticles. Once I was satisfied, we got back in the car. I kept some tapes of children's songs in the car for when we made the trip to Karen's. I put it in the player and we passed the time to "there was a farmer, had a dog and Bingo was his name, O, b-i-n-g-o, b-i-n-g-o" and another tape of Disney movie tunes. Would you like to hear my rendition of "Under the Sea"? Neither did Jamie.

Traffic on the interstate was heavier than I had thought it would be. Apparently a lot of people decided to head home early for the weekend. It was a little after four when we turned onto Karen's street. Her house was a ranch, near the end of a cul-de-sac. As we approached I saw Debbie on a bicycle and Cindy pedaling a big wheel. Debbie recognized my car, Karen must have told them we were coming, and waved. I made sure they were out of the way and pulled into the circular driveway. Debbie and Cindy got off their bikes and ran over to Jamie's door, but couldn't get it open, because the doors locked automatically when the car started.

I pushed the unlock button and they opened the door, excitedly tugging on Jamie, who was still held in by his seatbelt. I watched to see Jamie's reaction when the girl's saw his doll. Noticing it in his lap, Debbie asked me in typical children's self-centered curiosity, "Aunt Ginny, is that for me?"

"No, Debbie," the doll was Jamie's birthday present," I explained. "It's his," I repeated to make sure there was no question.

"Oh," Debbie said rebuffed in her enthusiasm for an undeserved gift. "Can I see her?" she asked, reaching for it. To my surprise he let her have it. Letting go of the doll freed Jamie's hands to release his seatbelt. In the meantime, Debbie gave the doll a thorough going over, even lifting the dress to check her underwear. When Jamie finally slid out of the seat, she handed it back to him and expressed her approval.

"Neat. C'mon."

She ran off to the house with Jamie and Cindy trailing along. I was surprised by how readily she accepted Jamie having a doll. She and Cindy had dolls, she didn't have any brothers who were told they couldn't and at her age I doubted she played with boys, so why would she know any different? Jenny was right when she said that prejudice requires maturity. They disappeared into the backdoor. A few minutes later Karen came out, apparently alerted by the girls that we had arrived.

She hurried over and gave me a gigantic hug. I really needed it. We held each other for what seemed like ten minutes. I couldn't let her go. All of the doubts and worries of the past few weeks seemed to melt away by the warmth and affection of my sister. Karen just let me hang on until I was ready.

"It's good to see you, too Ginny. Let's get your stuff inside. She reached into the trunk and took Jamie's smaller suitcase. I picked up mine and closed the trunk. She shifted the suitcase into her offhand and took my arm, escorting me to the door. We went to the guest bedroom, where we left the suitcases. Debbie had bunk beds in her room for sleepovers and the usual arrangement was for Cindy to move in with Debbie, Debbie being older took the upper bunk for safety, and Jamie stayed in Cindy's room. Her room was pink and pastels with the usual assortment of dolls and toys. I thought how ironic it was that Jamie had a boy's room when he was being a girl and a girl's room now that he was back to being a boy.

Dave had not gotten home yet, so Karen and I had time to catch up on her family. We talked about Debbie going back to school. Even though she and Jamie were both six, she had started kindergarten last year, so she would be a first grader. Karen showed me her 'Hello Kitty' school bag with all of the crayons, blunt scissors, pencils and little pencil sharpener required for her academic debut. Cindy was in pre-school and loved her teacher, who was the same one Debbie had when she went to the Teddy Bear Club. The owner was French and for enrichment the children were taught the language, so Karen told me how cute it was for Cindy to go around calling her 'mere' and her father 'pere,' the French words for mother and father she explained, since I took Spanish. Of course, Karen went on, Debbie had no idea what her sister was saying and made fun of her for talking baby talk, which gave both of us a laugh. Karen carefully avoided talking about Jaie and it was nice to have a conversation with her that didn't involve his gender.

About an hour after we arrived, Dave came home. He greeted me with a big bear hug. It felt good to have a man's arms around me, even if they belong to my brother-in-law. He was a really nice guy and Jim and Dave got along wonderfully. They would go off and talk sports for hours. I think Jim would have wanted Jamie to be an athlete. He played four varsity sports in high school. He didn't go to college, he went into the service and then to a technical school. I was sure that Dave would be disappointed if it turned out that Jamie was transgendered, which confirmed Karen's judgment about postponing the revelation until we were sure.

Dave went to change and wash up. When he came back, we chatted while Karen prepared dinner. Since it was barbeque, she bought most of it at the deli and only had to empty the containers into bowls. Dave went out to start the grill. When the hot dogs were ready, we called the girls. Ooops, and boy. Jamie came in carrying his doll. Debbie and Cindy had dolls too. Apparently they intended to have a doll's picnic. There was a child-sized plastic table with attached benches for them to sit at and Karen set places for them with paper plates. If Dave thought anything was strange about Jamie having a doll, he didn't mention it. He probably thought the doll belonged to one of the girls and that Jamie was just humoring his cousins by taking part in their game. I didn't see any need to change his mind.

We had a lovely dinner. Jamie always got along with his cousins and, with their company to keep him busy, I could relax with a glass or two or three of wine. By the end of the meal, I was feeling really mellow. Dave and I helped Karen bring the leftovers into the kitchen. We excused him and he went off to do whatever guys do while the women do the dishes. Not being much of a drinker, I wasn't a great deal of help. Mostly I swayed and giggled for no reason. Karen was very patient with her tipsy sister. She offered to put Jamie to bed when she did the girls. I accepted her offer and told her that his toothbrush and pajamas were in his suitcase. She gave me a patronizing look at my statement of the obvious. I went into the den and sat on the couch next to Dave. I didn't think Karen would mind my appropriating her husband for a bit, not that I had anything intimate in mind. It just was nice to have adult male company. We watched a nightly news program until it ended and then he asked if I minded if he changed to the sports network, which I didn't. By then Karen came in to report that the kids were all tucked in. She noticed that I was sitting next Dave and sat in one of the upholstered armchairs on the other side of the room, indicating her acceptance of the arrangement. She really was a good big sister.

I woke up the next morning with a headache. Sitting up slowly, I saw that it was almost ten o'clock, a luxury I could never enjoy at home. I noticed that I had fallen asleep in my panties and bra. I changed into clean underwear, pulled on a pair of shorts and a top, slipped on my sandals, ran my fingers through my hair and went to the kitchen. Karen was sitting at the counter sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper. There was still half a pot on the coffee maker. Coffee wasn't my beverage of choice, but today it was just what I needed. I poured myself a cup and doctored it up with milk and sugar.

"Thanks for letting me sleep in, Sis," I said appreciatively.

"No problem. Three's as easy as two. Sometimes I regret not having another baby, a boy for Dave. He loves the girls, but I think every man wants a son. Of course there's no guarantee if we had another child it wouldn't have added to his harem," she rationalized, "and it would have been harder for me to go back to work."

"Where are the girls, umm kids."

"They're playing on the swing set."

I went over and looked at the patio door. Debbie was pushing Jamie in the swing and Cindy was going down the slide. They always played nicely together. I tried to remember back when Karen and I were the girls' ages. I recalled more fights than fun. Maybe they were on their best behavior for company. I went back and sat next to Karen on one of the stools at the counter.

"Where's Dave?"

"He's playing golf with his buddies, like he does every Saturday and Sunday. They have an early tee time, so he should be done by noon. I thought we'd meet him at the club and the kids could use the pool. There's supervision for the little ones, so we can grab a couple of lounge chairs and get a tan."

"Sounds great, Karen, except that I didn't bring a bathing suit for Jamie."

"No problem, he can borrow one of Debbie's."

It was the first time the subject came up and we both laughed.

"Do you think Dave is ready to meet his niece?"

"No. Seriously, Jamie can wear a pair of Debbie's shorts. They're just plain cotton pull-ons and she has plenty of flip-flops."

"I brought some shorts for him."

"I know, he's wearing them."

"You dressed him?"

"Yes. I thought you would prefer that to having him run around naked. As unfamiliar as I am with boy's clothing, I managed to put shorts on him," she teased me. "I let him put on his own underwear."

"I didn't pack a bathing suit for me either. Is it okay if I wear what I have on?"

"Suit yourself," she punned.

Before we left, Karen made the kids lunch, ants on a log, peanut butter stuffed celery sticks for the logs and raisins for the ants, with big glasses of milk. Soft-baked chocolate chip cookies finished the meal. Karen suggested we wait to eat at the snack bar. They had really great vegieburgers. Karen was into health food. After lunch, Karen sent the kids to their rooms to change. She instructed Debbie to find a pair of her shorts and flip-flops for Jamie. A few minutes later, Debbie came running in.

"Mommy, Jamie has nail polish on his toes," she tattled. "I want polish on my toes too. He's got it," she repeated to enhance her argument.

Karen gave me a puzzled look. I completely forgot about our pedicures when I did his nails. I looked sheepishly at Karen and shrugged.

"Debbie, Honey, I was doing my toes and, well, I goofed around and did his too. Let me see if your Mom has some nail polish remover and I'll take it off, okay?"

I gave Karen a questioning look.

"Didn't you notice it this morning when you got him dressed?"

"I told you, he put on his own underwear."

"Oh, right. Do you have any remover?"

She went out and came back a few minutes later with a bottle and some gauze pads. I took Jamie outside and took off the polish while Debbie supervised.

The club was fun. Dave left early to putter around the yard at home. We got back around four thirty. Karen offered to order pizza for dinner, which brought a profuse expression of gratitude from Dave, who was usually deprived of such exotic fare. Having learned my lesson, this time I had lemonade with my dinner. After we ate, I suggested to Karen that she and Dave go out to a movie and I would babysit. She enthusiastically accepted my offer and dragged her husband from in front of the TV. I got Cindy ready for bed, reminiscing that Jamie had a Barbie nightgown too. Debbie and Jamie changed by themselves and I supervised their washing up and brushing their teeth. I offered to read them a story and they both got their dolls and sat on the bed in Cindy's room. When the story was over, I walked Debbie back to her room. I tucked her in and then went back to say goodnight to Jamie. He was already asleep, cuddling his doll. So far, so good, I commended myself.

Sunday morning Karen reciprocated and let me sleep late again. The kids were already in the backyard when I came downstairs. Dave was with them and had set up some type of game where they hit a ball off of a stand with a bat. Karen explained it was called T-ball, a form of baseball for little kids. I was surprised that both Debbie and Cindy were on a team and even more so to find out that Dave coached it. Girls would never be allowed to play on a boys' team when Karen and I were growing up. It also answered my question about what fathers did to spend time with their daughters. Times had changed, although not enough in Jamie's case it would seem.

"Debbie is one of the best players on her team," Karen bragged. "In part it's Dave's coaching, but girls have better eye-hand coordination than boys at that age. When they reach puberty, the testosterone makes the boys stronger and the estrogen gives us our curves. Well, most of us," she teased me. "Co-ed teams don't work well after that."

I watched as Jamie made a number of attempts to hit the ball off of the stand. Most of them whiffed over it, a couple hit the stand under it and a few glancing ones dribbled it to the ground. Debbie patiently picked up the ball and teed it up each time. Finally he connected, the ball rolled about ten feet and Jamie ran to the base with Debbie and Dave cheering him on. There were no fielders, so speed wasn't required, but it didn't matter. Jamie proudly jumped up and down on the base. Jamie played with his cousins for the rest of the afternoon. Karen reverted to her old ways and served tuna noodle casserole with soy cheese and organic pasta. It tasted like cardboard soaked in glue, but I was a good guest and complimented her cooking. Jamie didn't seem to mind, although I worried that it might have done permanent damage to his taste buds.

After dinner we said our goodbyes. If Dave thought anything strange about Jamie carrying a doll out to the car, he was considerate enough not to say anything. At home I got Jamie undressed and ready for bed in boy mode. I read him a story until he got drowsy. I went to the kitchen and checked the mail. There was nothing important. I watched the news and got ready for bed. We had to be up early for our session with Jenny tomorrow. I tossed and turned most of the night, worrying about her diagnosis. If he was transgendered, how would I deal with a boy who was a girl? So far, I hadn't done very well. If he wasn't, could we go back to the way things were after everything that has happened? I doubted it.

TO BE CONTINUED

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Comments

Very interesting story.

Very interesting story. Could almost be related to the current issue going on in Colorado where a little boy is going to an elementary school as a girl. As mentioned in your story, the closed minded adult are going bonkers over it as "it will rub off on their kids" and other drivel like that. Can't wait to see what the good doctor says and decides. J-Lynn

Results: Inconclusive

laika's picture

We've been puzzling along with Ginnie over just how her child feels about himself in terms of gender for some time now. It's been a hell of a story, following Ginnie's thoughts and feelings about this dilemna from front row center, with some very credible and for the most part likeable characters. Every clue that seems to support Jamie's being transgendered is countered by one that indicates the interest in crossdressing is linked to some specific circumstance, and is not an expression of basic personality. Or have I missed something important?
So if it was up to me---and I'm glad it isn't---I'd say that unless something drastically eye-opening happens
("Im a GIRL, goddamn it!") in the next chapter or so, or unless the therapist comes up with some persuasive argument one way or the other, it might be time to bring this experiment to a close. To go back to presenting Jamie to the world as male for the sake of convention (all those Helens out there)- letting him keep his doll,
of course, and maybe keeping an outfit or two around for playtime strictly in private (very tricky to do this without lending it an aura of shame or wrongness); and to see where things go from here ..........
Hoping that in a year or so, with increased verbal skills, Jamie will be able to give us
some indication of what's going on in that little noggin of his. Or hers...
~~~hugs, LAIKA