by RH Music
by RH Music
Ken, a gawky English boy, steals his sister's passport to become an au pair in America. There he encounters an inattentive husband, a frustrated wife, a rebellious daughter, and an amorous boy next door. How will he, now she, manage it all? (no sex, just a sweet, TG story)
Ken closed and locked the door of the airplane toilet.
--occupied--
For the first time in his young life, Ken was completely free. He had broken free of society and its arbitrary laws. It was exhilarating and terrifying and he closed his eyes and breathed in deep to savor the moment. Letting his mind wander, he could imagine his body outside, floating alongside the plane - watching the English countryside slip away over the horizon. "Let it go," he thought, "I don't care to ever see it again." He looked ahead across the blissfully smooth sea. He felt suspended.
Ken let his breath out slowly and opened his eyes to the reflection in the mirror. The image was impossible for him to interpret objectively. He had worked so hard, like an artist laboriously touching up his masterpiece. Had he lost the concept of the whole in the details? But no, the image before him, once he could tear his eyes away from the imperfections, was undeniably female, even beautiful after a fashion. It was this feminine image which was responsible for a deep subconscious confusion. He had been moving down a dead-end, and now, in the process of changing direction, he found himself lost - uncertain and confused about his new identity. The WC was now occupied, but by whom?
Ken reached into his handbag and pulled out a passport. Holding it up he compared it to the image in the mirror. The likeness was very close - a week of study and experimentation, correcting details, shading, highlighting, and now even a harsh fluorescent light could not reveal his true identity. Intellectually, he knew that no one would question the passport holder - he had passed the test twice already. But the most difficult test was ahead of him, and, if he allowed himself to dwell on it, he had to admit that he was terrified.
Ken looked at the passport again. It was not his. Paradoxically, it was both his means of escape and his link to his past for it properly belonged to his younger sister, Kathy. As brother and sister, they looked strikingly similar - until puberty they had often been mistaken for one another. All that was required was a few subtle adjustments using makeup, a new style for his long hair, blonde highlights, earrings, and the transformation was complete.
His face was naturally narrow making his eyes look large and expressive. As a man, people would say that he was gaunt and awkward, with spindly arms, sallow cheeks, and thin legs that made him look taller than he really was. Upon further study, one might notice that Ken was uncomfortable in public, with tentative and uncertain body movements that made him timid and awkward.
But this gaunt and spindly frame turned out to be the perfect template for creating a svelte female form. Padding and cinching could be used to emphasize feminine curves, but, except for the bosom, none was really necessary. When completely dressed, not a trace of the typical, cylindrical male torso could be found. It was only recently that he had taken up hormone therapy, which, at this point, only added a subtle emphasis to his curves.
Beyond padding, Ken possessed an additional secret for creating the perfect body. It was his special discovery, and it was simple. Starvation.
It had started as a form of rebellion. Every pang of hunger he felt, every meal that he skipped, every time he forced himself to vomit was a badge of honor, a token of resistance against his inflexible, blind, unfeeling parents. Couldn't they see how unhappy he was? Didn't they care? His mother might occasionally remark, "you should eat more, you're positively wasting away," but these sentiments were spoken with an abstract air, not out of true concern. If it had been otherwise, why did she never take the time to ask how he was feeling? Ken knew that he was an embarrassment to his family. The only time he had ventured to express his true feelings had been brutally rebuffed.
"What are you doing, Ken?" Ken's mom was standing in the doorway to his room. His parents had come home unexpectedly early from their shopping trip.
"Mum!" Ken dropped the lipstick he was holding - his lips (the color was too red, he now realized) were painted on only one side - giving him a crazed and clownish look. Worse, he was wearing a flower-print house dress. "Ummm..... I was just playing..."
"Is this what you do while I'm at work all day? Is this how you use your free time?"
"No! I mean... Well, sometimes yes, but..."
She cut him off. "Get out of that ridiculous costume, right this minute! I will not have my son acting like some painted pervert in my own home!"
"Mother!"
"What's all the fuss?"
"Dad..." Ken wilted. He let his hands drop to his side and felt his eyes well up with tears of anguish.
"Why are you wearing that ridiculous outfit? Kenneth Charles William Shore! Answer me!"
"I..." Ken hesitated to tell the truth, but in the end could think of nothing else to say. "I like wearing girl's clothes," he said, lamely.
The shocked expression on his father's face was followed quickly by a verbal explosion. "Why, you bloody ungrateful... Bugger! Is this what you want? Bring shame on your family? Ruin my career? You want to embarrass and disgrace us?"
"No! I just..."
"Just what?"
"Sometimes, I just want to be someone else," Ken whimpered.
"That's crap! Fucking crap!! Over my dead body! You are my only son, that's who you are, and that's who you will be, whether you like it or not!" Ken's father took two large steps forward and roughly grasped Ken by the shoulders, physically pulling him up off the chair and shaking him violently. "You are going to act like a proper man if I have to beat it into you!!"
Ken had never seen his father this angry before, and it was the first time he had ever heard him swear. Ken's mother stood at the door, scared, helpless, and confused.
"You like wearing women's clothing? Where do you keep them?" He threw Ken roughly to the floor causing Ken's head to bang against the corner of his desk. Ken lay on the floor, hands clutched to his head, rocking and crying with pain and humiliation.
"Are they in here?" Ken's father grasped the handles to the top drawer of the dresser and tore the drawer out with a dreadful wrench. As he tossed it to the ground, the drawer broke into pieces and underwear scattered everywhere revealing Ken's secret stash of lingerie hidden underneath. "My God, this is disgusting!! Throw this away!" Picking up the panties and slips like they were toxic, he thrust them at his wife.
Blood from the cut on his the head was now seeping out from around Ken's fingers. Seeing this, Ken's mother dropped the lingerie and rushed over to Ken. "Henry!" She shouted at her husband.
Ken's father opened up the next drawer and dumped its contents on the bed. A second dress, the only other one which Ken owned, was revealed. "HENRY!" She screamed.
"YES??" He turned to stare at her, eyes wild.
"Look what you've done to your son! Get out of here this instant!"
"NO! It serves the bastard right!" Ken's father took the dress and in a violent spasm managed to rip it cleanly in two.
Ken's mother stood up and slapped him hard across the face with the back of her hand.
Stunned, but still trembling with anger, Ken's father looked at the two halves of the torn dress in his hands and then looked over to Ken, who was now sobbing hysterically as blood ran down his face and dripped onto the floor.
"Clean this up, and destroy these... these... disgusting things, all of them! Or I swear..." shaking, Ken's father never finished the threat, but stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door with a slam that rattled the windows.
Humiliated and terrified, Ken complied with the order, filling up a garbage bag with all of his special clothes, makeup, and magazines. He gave the bag to his mother, who, without looking at the contents or saying a word, took it to the local incinerator. Ken could feel a part of him burning into ashes and floating away. Not another word was ever spoken of the incident.
That same evening, after a tense family dinner ("What's going on? Why's everyone so quiet?" Ken's sister Kathy had asked, in her normal, annoyingly inquisitive fashion), Ken staggered into the bathroom and threw up his entire meal, the stress and anguish being too much. This launched another wave of sobbing and self pity, and it was then, with his cheek against the comfortingly cool ceramic of the toilet rim, that he hatched his plan: he would starve himself to death. It wasn't enough to just commit suicide, he was going to do it in such a way as to cause maximum suffering. Only then would his parents understand what they had done to him.
But after a month of trying, Ken realized that he lacked the willpower, and so he gave up. In the process he had purged himself dozens of times, and it was then that he made a strange discovery: it felt good to vomit.
He had gotten used to the rank smell, he was able to do it cleanly and quickly, and afterwards a feeling of relief would wash over him and calm his anxiety. And so, vomiting became something he did because it made him feel good, not only from the act itself, but also how it provided him a measure of control over his own body. "Does this mean I'm anorexic?" he wondered. He didn't know for sure. He wasn't a woman, after all, and weren't they the only ones who had eating disorders? But one thing was for certain, he loved the new shape of his body.
And so, back in the airplane, Ken carefully arranged his skirt so that it wouldn't get soiled and knelt down on the floor of the airplane lavatory. Holding his long hair out of the way, he placed a finger at the back of his throat and quickly and efficiently threw up his in-flight lunch. After he was done, Ken leaned against the wall for a second with his eyes closed, his life on the brink.
Ken sat on his suitcase in the arrivals area, searching the crowd for his new American family. Where were they? He had landed over two hours ago and was still in the airport. Phone calls to their house only got an answering machine.
The crowd ebbed and flowed around him. Families with children, overweight limo drivers with hand-printed signs, business colleagues, young couples... everyone else seemed to find each other. Joyous reunions were played out over and over before Ken's envious eyes.
In a moment of dizziness, Ken teetered on his suitcase and toppled to the floor, legs sprawled wide and skirt splayed open. He slowly got up, brushed off, righted the suitcase, and sat back down, holding his hands to his face and massaging his eyes he tried to shut out the confusion and melee which swirled around him.
Ken was dirty, hot, and fatally tired. He had been awake for 37 hours, having slept only fitfully on the plane, and he was so tired that he had no coherent thoughts, only panicky feelings. He wanted nothing more than a clean bed and a cup of warm tea with milk and honey.
The night before he had stayed up until 2:30 in the morning, waiting until everyone else was sure to be asleep. Picking up his suitcase he carefully crept out of house and left by the back door. Walking down the street to a local grocery store, he called for a taxi. Hopefully, his parents would both leave for work and, since it was a school holiday, would not bother to wake him. With luck, his absence would not be discovered until late today.
Ken, afraid of nodding off, stood up to stretch his legs, wincing as his pinched toes complained. 2" heels, he had reasoned, no problem! But his feet were now in real pain, and so he quickly sat back down, nearly falling again on the unstable suitcase which he now realized was missing a foot.
Ken looked down at his rumbled clothes and thought back to when he had picked them out with his transsexual friend Sandra.
"No, no!" his friend Sandra had said. Sandra was a fairly famous architect in the city and so was fairly well traveled. "You don't want to wear that!"
Ken had originally picked out a short, pin-striped skirt with a wide, open-collar shirt. "Why not?" Ken asked. "It looks just like this outfit I saw at DKNY."
Sandra shook his head. "No, no. They don't want you to look like a Yank, see? It's way too short and revealing. I mean, you've got the body for it, no problem there! I don't know how you do it. But no. What they will want is for you to look like a proper English lady. Try this instead."
Ken took the hanger from Sandra and went to try it on. Sandra had picked out a light brown suit, narrow-cut, classic, and hemmed just to the knee with a soft light-weight wool fabric, and a fashionably long suit jacket.
When Ken stepped out of the changing room Sandra whistled. "See? It's perfect! You are the very picture of a modest, but capable, young women. That's what they'll be looking for."
Ken looked at himself in the mirror. The cut on the jacket was perfect, and wonderfully accented his narrow waist. Ken turned over the price tag price tag and gasped. "But Sandra! It's much too expensive. I can't possibly afford it!"
"Tut tut!" Sandra clucked. "It's my treat."
But now, he looked horrible! The light brown suit that had looked so sharp was now rumpled and dirty. His stretch cotton blouse, chosen to generously hug his curves and accentuate his fake breasts, now felt sticky and damp. He resisted the temptation to scratch his chest where the under wire bra dug in cruelly. He desperately wanted to impress his new American hosts. "But how impressive can I possibly be, like this?" he fretted.
Ken thought back with longing to his transsexual friend Sandra and his wife Sarah. Lost and alone in this huge new country, he was already homesick for them. It was through a transgender support group that Ken was first put in contact with Sandra. Ken never actually went to any of the meetings, it would have been impossible given how carefully his parents watched over him, but the organizer of the group had suggested that Ken talk to Sandra, who lived just a short bicycle ride away. For nearly half a year, Ken had held on to Sandra's phone number, unable to muster the courage to make the call. It was only after the terrible fight with his parents that he found the courage to do so.
Not reserved or snooty at all, the Dickinsons welcomed Ken wholeheartedly into their household and unconditionally accepted him as a young woman. Sandra was English, but born and raised in California. His wife Sarah was a seamstress who loved to sew pretty dresses, and was more than delighted to have one more willing and appreciative model to wear her designs. Ken never ventured from home dressed 'en femme' for fear of running into his real family, but Sandra did, and with relish. He was so flamboyant that he could carry off any outfit that Sarah devised. How he could be so honestly oblivious to the curious stares around him was a source of inspiration to Ken, who had lived his life fairly dictated by the perceptions of others. Perhaps it was Sandra's job, as an art and architecture critic for one of the London broadsheets, which gave him the strength, for in his job he had to put up with a great deal of enmity from those who disagreed with his opinions.
The first time that Ken went to visit, for tea, was just after the stitches had been removed from the blow to his head. Although Ken was too discrete to blame his parents, some bitterness inevitably leaked out, and he suspected that Sandra and Sarah had an inkling that the cut was not entirely accidental. Perhaps because of this, Sandra and Sarah started calling Ken their 'adopted daughter', a pet name which brought a contented smile to his lips, even now. They encouraged him to call them "Mum" and "Dad", and it was through their care that Ken gained back some of the self confidence, fun, and love of experimentation that he had lost. "They saved my life," Ken reflected simply, for after meeting them he soon abandoned his plans to commit suicide.
It was in the spirit of adopted family connections that Sandra and Sarah eventually agreed to become accomplices in Ken's plan to become an Au Pair in America. Being around Sandra, and watching American movies and shows, Ken had naturally come to assume that America was chock full of tolerant, creative, fun-loving, uninhibited people, and so he had sent in his application to the Au Pair program, taking the name of his sister, Kathy, and listing the Dickinsons as his guardians. Sandra and Ken handled phone calls and interviews easily and honestly, albeit from their more liberal point of view.
Even though Sandra did not himself dress full-time as a woman, he had absolutely no problem with Ken passing himself off as one, for Sandra knew dozens of such transsexuals in England doing the same, many of them married like he was. "Listen carefully to your heart," Sandra often said, "for it will never steer you wrong."
"Of course," he added, with a twinkle, "it can take an entire lifetime to learn how to listen."
"Hi, um... are you Kathy?"
Ken looked up hopefully at the lady before him.
She was dressed casually in black sweat pants and a white T-Shirt and was carrying a car seat with a sleeping baby in it. Curiously, she was holding a hand behind her back. Her hair, pulled into a bun, was dark brown and frizzy, and her eyes seemed heavy lidded, as if it was too much effort to open them all the way. Ken might have called her round face beautiful, but it was missing any sense of sparkle.
"Yes... are you Mrs. Johnson?"
Tina put down the car seat. "Hi Kathy, welcome to America, and please, call me Tina, otherwise you'll make me feel so old! I hope you haven't been waiting long? My husband, Brian, apparently got the time of your arrival wrong, I'm so sorry," Tina scowled at having to apologize for her husband's mistake. "Also, I thought he'd be here to come greet you, but apparently he was held up at the office."
Ken carefully stood up on unsteady legs, and gently shook the limp hand offered to him. "No problem about the wait," he said, courteously. Leaning over to look in the car seat, "And, is this Michael?"
"Yes it is, and this," with a grunt, Tina pulled her hand from behind her back exposing a little girl in a pink, glittery lame' leotard with a mesh tutu, "is Julie. Say hello to your new nanny, Julie!"
Julie scurried back behind her mother, burying her face in her mother's skirt. "It's Julie-ina!" she said, adamantly.
Tina rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes, well then, say hello to Kathy, Julie-ina."
Not budging an inch from behind her mother, Julie called out a small "hello".
Ken knelt down to be eye-to-eye with Julie, who peaked out. "I am very pleased to meet you, Julie-ina. That's certainly a very curious name for a little girl, how did you come by it?"
"She's just started ballet lessons," Tina explained, "and now she refuses to be called anything but 'Julie-ina Ballerina' and wants to wear her special tutu all the time." Ken could tell that Tina was embarrassed for her daughter.
Jokingly, Tina turned to her daughter. "You know, Julie-ina, you can't go to a job interview wearing a tutu, you'll need to be dressed much more appropriately, like Kathy here. Doesn't she look elegant dressed like that?" Ken smiled at the compliment, but could tell that Julie didn't have any idea what her mother was going on about.
Julie, six years old, looked almost exactly like her mother, with long untamed curly hair, and a round, pudgy face with freckles. She was adorable, just the kind of little girl to break her father's heart, or to raise Satan with a tantrum.
Ken turned to Michael, sleeping peacefully. "What a beautiful baby! How old is he?"
"8 months, and, I'm afraid to say, still not sleeping through the night. Sorry about that."
"No problem at all, I certainly understand," Ken answered with more confidence than he felt. Ken was woefully ignorant when it came to handling children. His sister was only 2 years younger than he was, so he had never really helped out with her. When he had fretted to the Dickinsons about his inexperience, Sandra would just brush away his concerns. "Don't worry," he had said, "you have a gentle nature. Just treat the child with all of the respect and attention that you would treat any adult and you'll be fine."
"Well!" Tina said, "Now that we are all introduced, shall we head home?"
"Mommy!" Julie cried out.
"Yes, dear?" Tina asked, patiently.
"The red plane! I want to go on the red plane!"
"There's a little playground for children upstairs which has a red jungle gym shaped like a plane," Tina explained to Ken. To Julie, she said, "No dear. I'm sure that Kathy is very tired, we should take her home so she can rest from her long journey."
"NO!" Julie screamed, turning heads in the arrival area. "You said I could play on the red plane! I want to go play on the red plane! Now!" Julie stamped her foot in frustration and began to gasp, the precursor to outright wailing.
Ken could sympathize, for that's exactly how he felt himself, suffering from that special brand of anxiousness that only extreme exhaustion can bring. But, desperately wanting to impress his new American hostess, he offered to take Julie to the playground.
Tears forgotten, Julie ran to the escalators with a squeal.
"Julie!" Tina called, "come back here!" To Ken she asked, "are you sure? You look really tired."
"I'm perfectly fine, really," Ken lied, and then picked up his suitcase and trotted to catch up with Julie.
Dearest Sandra & Sarah:
If I'm so tired, why can't I sleep? Woke up at 4:30am (stupid time zones). At least now I have time to write to you!
No problems with U.S. customs, btw. They just waved me through! I'm a fugitive! Don't tell!
Tina Johnson and the children (Julie and Michael) are very nice. Julie will be my responsibility. Dear me! She's a little hellion. Tina thinks she has 'separation anxiety' since M. (8yo) was born. I think she's just spoiled (when she's not being heart-breakingly cute). Three tantrums and she threw a book at her brother today.
I worry about Tina. She seems depressed and criticizes Brian (the father) all the time. Apparently he works all the time and doesn't help out with the house or children except to tell Tina what not to do.
Please hold on ---
I just changed my first nappy! Thank god for disposables! Michael was fussing and I noticed the smell straight away. Putting the diaper on a moving target was a challenge, but managed it OK. He was fussy, so I rocked him to sleep. OMG, a sleeping baby in my arms... is there anything more precious?
But Sarah! What am I going to do about my breasts! I took off my bra and falsies to sleep, then forgot! What if someone had seen poor, flat chested me? I think I'll have to sleep with my falsies on to avoid mistakes in the future, until the hormones start to take effect.
Sandra, you should see this old house. You'd love it! It's *huge* and gorgeous with fantastic shingles in wavy patterns and a huge tower on one side and such incredible details (brackets and trim). Too bad the interior is so run down. My WC is missing tiles all over, and the downstairs is a nightmare. Oh, and it's got a pool! Too bad it's filled with mud.
Love and kisses, I miss you terribly, and if you don't write back right away I shall hunt you down,
Kathy.
PS: It's still early. Maybe I'll take a walk around the woods out back.
"Oh shit!" Ken shouted. He had opened the back door, causing the the house alarm to let off an earsplitting electronic screech.
He quickly closed the door, but the alarm wouldn't stop!
"Damn it!" Ken rushed down the hall trying to find the alarm panel. But just as he rounded the corner, he was knocked backwards onto the floor. Ken looked up to see a tall man standing over him, wet, soapy, and naked except for a towel that was grasped tenuously around his waist. The man was of muscular build, hairy chest, bushy eyebrows, and with a friendly puppy-dog look and shaggy, unkempt, dark brown hair.
The naked man looked at Ken with wild confusion, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" he shouted, trying to be heard over the alarm.
"THE AU PAIR!" Ken shouted back.
"WHO?"
"THE NANNY!"
The man shook his head. Turning, he raced down the hall.
Too fast!
"AAAAAACK!" His soapy feet slipped out from under him. WHAM! he fell on his backside and continued to slide down the hall from his momentum until he slid into the door at the end of the hallway with a loud crunch.
"Fuck!" He scrambling up. Punching the code into the control panel, the shrieking finally stopped.
Ken sighed with relief, got up, and walked down the hall rubbing his ears. "Are you OK?" Ken asked, tentatively.
"Uh, fine." The man was now completely naked. The towel lay on the floor.
He and Ken locked eyes for a split second.
"Oh! I'm sorry." Ken hid his eyes and turned his head away. "Um, my name is Kathy," he said from behind his hands, "I'm the new au pair... ah... the nanny."
"You can look now." Ken uncovered his eyes. The other man had fetched the towel and was now (somewhat) covered again. He walked up to Ken and held out his hand. "My name is Brian. Pleased to meet you."
Ken received a wet and soapy handshake.
"What's going on down here?" Tina had rushed downstairs in her cotton PJs. She looked her husband up and down and couldn't resist a giggle. "Oh, Hi Brian!" she continued, lightly. "I see you've met our new Au Pair?"
Brian returned a withering look. "Yes, we just introduced ourselves."
Annoyed, Tina turned back to Ken, "I must thank you, Kathy! For arranging this rare meeting between my husband and me."
Brian set his jaw, "please don't, Tina."
"Don't what?"
Brian paused for a second, trying to decide if he should pursue the argument. "Never mind. Kathy is it? Sorry about this. We alarm all of the outside doors at night. You must have set it off by trying to exit the back door?"
Ken nodded. "Yes, I... ah... woke up early and was just going to go out for get some fresh air. I'm so sorry!"
"No problem, it happens every now and then. Well, I better finish my shower, but Kathy, if you need anything, don't hesitate to just ask." With that, Brian bounded back up stairs.
Ken called up after him, "Well, actually, the tiles in my shower needs to be repaired, if it's not too much trouble."
"Oh, that's right!" Brian called down, "We'll have to fix that some day." Ken could hear the bathroom close and the water start running again.
Ken looked over at Tina who just rolled her eyes. The sound of a baby crying filled the house.
"That must be Michael," sighed Tina. "Kathy, I need to go feed him. Could you get Julie up and dressed? Just pick out something nice for school. She is *not* allowed to go as a ballerina."
"Julie?" Ken walked up to the lump in the bed. Julie's bedroom was a strange combination of bare walls and cluttered floors, as if an earthquake had come and knocked everything down.
Ken gently shook the lump. "Julie? It's time to get up now." How could she have slept through the burglar alarm?
"Julie?" Ken shook the lump harder, until he heard muffled giggling.
Smiling, Ken put on his mock-angry voice. "Julie! How dare you pretend to be asleep like that!"
"I'm not pretending! I am asleep!"
"No you're not, you silly girl!" and with that, Ken reached over and tickled the lump, causing a shriek of laughter to come from within. Ken pulled down the covers and exposed the rumpled Julie, wearing a nightgown covered in little teddy bears.
"I fooled you! I fooled you!" She giggled hysterically.
"Yes you did. Now come on. You need to get dressed for school."
Ken grasped the hem of the nightgown and pulled it off Julie, who obediently held her arms up. "I need to go potty!" Julie said, as she took off her panties and scampered out of the room.
Ken sat down on the bed for a second, swallowing hard. A young girl had just completely undressed in front of him, not once suspecting that he was a man. Somehow, all of his dressing up, learning to behave as a woman in public, mingling with others - all that paled in comparison to this simple girl who accepted him without hesitation.
Julie skipped back into the room, still naked. "All done!" she said, proudly. She ran to her dresser, got a clean pair of undies and put them on. "I wanna be Julie-ina ballerina!" she stated as she ran over to her ballet outfit.
"I'm sorry, Julie, but your mother said I should pick out something nice for school."
Forty minutes later they finally made it down stairs. Julie was wearing a simple corduroy plaid jumper and white cotton blouse.
"Hi sleepyhead" Tina called to her daughter as the two entered the kitchen.
Ken smiled and guided Julie to the breakfast table. She clambered up to her booster chair.
"What would you like for breakfast?" he asked.
"Cereal."
"Very good." Ken walked over to the cabinets to get a bowl. He looked down and noticed the wine bottle from last night on the countertop. Tina had opened a new bottle for dinner last night and now it was completely empty.
Ken got out a box of cereal and some milk.
"Not that kind!"
"Not that kind of what?"
"Yuck! Blue milk!"
Tina was grinding coffee. "She doesn't like the skim milk. Get her the 2%." Ken looked up at Tina, and saw how the bags and wrinkles around her eyes. Tina held the back of her hand to her forehead.
"Are you OK?" Ken asked, as he fetched the 2%.
"Fine, just a headache," Tina replied.
"That's mommy's cereal! I don't want that."
Tina brought over another box of cereal, and handed it to Ken. "Sorry 'bout that," she said, "Julie likes this kind. It's too sweet for my taste and god knows she doesn't need the extra energy."
Ken poured cereal and milk for both Julie and himself and then fetched some orange juice. The two ate together.
When she had eaten enough, Julie jumped out of her chair and ran upstairs.
"Julie!" Tina called up. "Get your books and come right down! The bus will be here in just 5 minutes!"
After several long minutes Julie pranced back into the kitchen, now dressed in her pink lame' tutu.
"I'm Julie-ina Ballerina!" she declared, triumphantly, raising a sparkly gold wand over her head, "with my magic golden scepter!"
Ken entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He sat down on the tile floor and placed his head on the rim of the toilet bowl.
"Goodness," he thought, "is this what it's like to raise a child? Already I'm exhausted!" Ken looked into the toilet bowl trying to decide what to do. It had been a stressful day.
After Julie-ina's surprise re-entrance, Ken had chased her around the room, finally catching her and carrying her upstairs. Julie had liked that part. But when they got upstairs, Ken had insisted that Julie change into school clothes, she had resisted, and it seemed that nothing he could do would change her mind. When Ken reach for her magic wand, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Finally, after persistent use of flattery, "You look like such a beautiful young woman in your school clothes!" combined with adult reasoning "You know you can't go to school in just a tutu, you would be so beautiful that it would distract all your teachers and classmates," Julie finally relented. Ken doubted that she was moved by his arguments. More likely she was just bored and realized that he wouldn't go away until she gave in.
Once changed, Tina drove Julie to school while Ken watched Michael. Michael was easy, Ken thought. Why can't all children be like this? Unable to move, unable to get into trouble, and happy all the time except when he needs to be fed or changed.
Finally Tina was back home and Ken had some time to himself.
Ken leaned over the toilet bowl and used a finger to regurgitate his breakfast. Feeling better, he stood up and stripped. Off came his black skirt, white cotton blouse, bra, breast forms, flat pumps, pantyhose, panties, and waist cinch. The waist cinch was just a six inch wide piece of stretchy fabric with hooks. Ken realized that he didn't really need it, but it did help to emphasize the difference between his waist and hips a bit.
Ken took a second to examine himself in the mirror. His young body was rail-thin, with no hair and a small penis. As he held his arms up and turned this way and that, Ken examined his breasts closely for growth. They were certainly sensitive and warm but he could detect only the slightest swelling from the hormones.
Ken went through the motions of checking his breasts for lumps. His doctor in England had thought it was a good idea, and Ken was happy to make this little ritual a part of his daily routine.
How could anyone confuse this body for a woman? Ken had no idea. In the mirror he was no more than a scared young man, graceless and emaciated. The opposite of womanhood, this was not a body that could carry a baby. It was an image that he recognized as his own, but he did not identify with it, kind of like the black and white photo of his father as a teenager. The photo sat on his mother's dresser, and Ken could not see a single trace of the father he knew in the picture of the roguish boy, who sat on the deck of a ship, arms crossed, with a smug and self confident smile.
With a sigh, Ken pulled away from the mirror and started his shower. At some point, while washing his feet, his elbow bumped the wall.
"Uh oh."
With water cascading around him, Ken examined the hole he had just created. A tile had been pushed right into the wall, where it had disappeared. Tapping around with a fingernail, it sounded like the entire wall was hollow.
Working more carefully, Ken finished up and turned off the shower. He ran his long hair through his hands to squeeze out the excess water.
*thunk*. The bar of soap slipped off the soap dish and fell to the floor.
"Huh," Ken mused. He placed the soap back onto the soap dish.
*thunk*. It fell down again.
Apparently, the heavy, ceramic dish had pulled away from the wall. Ken tried to push it back into the wall.
*tik*
"Uh oh." A crack formed, running horizontally the length of the wall between two rows of tiles. Ken backed up, brushing up against the shower curtain. Two more tiles broke off and clattered into the tub. A second crack raced up the wall and another tile fell into the tub.
"Shit..."
*CRACK*, the entire wall of tile shifted, slid down an inch, hit the edge of the tub, and collapsed.
"AAAAAGH!" Ken screamed, as the tiles crashed around his feet with plaster flying everywhere. Ken stumbled backwards over the side of the tub, right through the shower curtain, which he ripped from the rod with a loud series of popping sounds. Ken fell with a hard *whump* onto the floor.
Coughing and gasping, blinded by the plaster dust, Ken reached for a towel and covered his face with it, trying to breath.
"Kathy! What's going on in there?" Tina was pounding on the door. "Kathy! Are you alright?" Tina tried the door, but it was locked. "Do I need to break this door down?"
"No!" Ken choked out. "One second!" Quick!, Ken thought. Hide the breast forms! Hide the cinch! Ken stumbled around the room, unable to breath, unable to see. He fumbled for the items and stuffed them under the sink.
"What's happening in there? Unlock this door!"
Frantically, Ken scrambled to put on a pair of panties. Lungs burning, he gathered a towel over his chest, and finally burst out of the door.
"The wall," Ken said coughing, "collapsed!" Ken fell to his knees, coughing spasmodically, caked head to toe in white plaster dust. He clutched his towel tightly to his chest, trying desperately to hide his body.
Tina rushed in, coughing and choking on the dust, turning on the ventilation fan to clear the air. "My God!" she exclaimed, surveying the destruction, "are you okay? You could have been seriously hurt!"
Tina returned to Ken and knelt down beside him. "Are you sure you're OK?"
"Yes, I'm fine." Ken relaxed, breathing more slowly. Ken looked over at Tina, who had a wide grin on her face. "What?"
"You!" Tina giggled. "You look like the victim of a bakery accident!!"
Ken smiled. 'Thank god,' he thought to himself. 'She doesn't notice!'
Out loud, he said. "I'm so sorry about the wall. First some tiles fell off, then the soap dish..."
Tina cut him off. "Please don't worry about it Kathy, I understand. I don't know why Brian wanted you to use this bathroom, you could have got yourself killed! I've been telling him for months now that he needs to get it repaired, but he doesn't listen to me." Tina's face pinched up. "I'm so sorry! Just use the children's bathroom until we can get this one fixed up. Go now."
Ken walked out the front door and down the street, admiring the houses in the neighborhood. They looked to be historic, many three stories high, and with wings added on to create sun rooms, conservatories, or extra bedrooms. The lawns were beautiful and the trees were enormous. Some, like the Johnson's home, had large wrap-around porches.
Ken walked down the street, found a bench, and sat down to wait. He had dressed in dark green jumper and a light cotton blouse with lace around the collar. "I look just like Julie," he thought to himself.
The truth was, Ken didn't have many options. Despite objections from the Dickinsons, he had insisted on wearing only dresses. They were a kind of security blanket which he felt would help fool others into thinking he was female. Sandra and Sarah had insisted that he could wear anything and he would still be fine, but Ken was unconvinced. Anyway, on his limited budget, Ken had only been able to afford just four dresses, and now after being attacked by the wall in the loo, only one was clean.
"Hi there!"
Ken looked up. A young man was standing before him. He was in his early 20's with short sandy colored hair and a friendly, cheerful face.
"Hello," Ken replied.
"Waiting for the school bus?" he inquired.
"Yes, and what are you doing here?"
"Well, um..." the question seemed to throw him. "You know, I guess I just saw this beautiful woman sitting here in my front yard, or rather my Dad's front yard... and I guess... well I just thought I should investigate."
Ken looked at him in surprise. Someone had gone out of their way just to talk to him? No one had ever done that before.
"Well, thank you for keeping me company," Ken said, with a warm smile, making a space on the bench. "By the way, my name is Kathy, I'm the new Au Pair for the Johnsons."
"And my name is Tim Downey. Pleased to meet you!"
Ken suddenly had a thought. "Hey! Do you know a good household repairman?"
"What kind?"
"Well, the wall in my loo collapsed, right into the tub!"
Tim laughed in amazement, "Are you serious?! The entire wall collapsed?"
"Yes," Ken replied, glaring at him. "And I happened to be in the tub at the time."
"No way! Are you okay?"
"Oh I'm fine."
"Well, loo repair.... Nope, no one in America knows how to repair a *loo*. But I'm sure we could find someone to repair the *bathroom*." Tim grinned at Ken, who rolled his eyes at the tease. "I don't know anyone personally, but I'm sure my Dad does. I'll ask him and get back to you."
"Thank you!"
The two sat in silence for a second.
"So, what is your occupation?" Ken asked.
"My occupation?" Tim mulled that over for a second. "Well, I'm just a student right now. I'm working on my MBA, it should be done next year. I'm looking for an internship this summer. I'll probably just work for my Dad, but I would like to find something more finance-related..."
*Beep* *Beep* A small yellow school bus drove up.
Julie jumped off the bus. "Look Kathy! Look what I made for you!" She held up a paper with smears of finger-paint handprints.
Ken took a serious look at it, "Why it's beautiful, Julie! I love the colors." Ken stood up. "Julie, this is Mister Tim. Say hello."
Julie quickly hid behind Ken and peeked out at Tim. "Hello," she said in a small voice.
Tim knelt down. "We've met dozens of times, Julie. Don't you remember me?"
Julie hid her face in Ken's skirt, pressing her head against his legs. "No." she said, muffled.
"Oh well," Ken said, smiling. "Tim, I must be going now. It was a pleasure to meet you."
"And you too, Kathy. I hope we meet again soon!"
Ken took Julie by the hand but Julie slipped away and ran ahead. Halfway home she stopped, turned around, and started singing at the top of her lungs:
Kathy and Tim!
Sittin' in a tree!
K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
"Julie!" Ken hissed, blushing scarlet. He glanced back and saw Tim with a huge grin on his face. 'He's not embarrassed at all,' Ken realized, 'he likes this!' Ken's skin broke out in goose bumps and his stomach seemed to twist up, all on its own.
First comes luuuuuuuv,
Then comes marriage!
Then comes the baby in the ba-by carriage!
'That's not bloody likely,' Ken muttered to himself. But the thought made him sad, and it dissipated some of the delicious thrill he had just felt. Ken looked back at Tim, shrugged his shoulders, and waved goodbye.
Ken finally reached Julie and picked her up. "You silly silly girl! Ooooh, you're in so much trouble!" But instead, Ken gave her an extra big hug before heading inside.
"Are you in here?" Ken opened the door with a flourish.
The closet was empty. "Where are you?" Ken called.
Ken finished his tour of the first floor and then went up the staircase to the second.
'This place is massive!' Ken muttered to himself, climbing the long staircase.
'And all out of sorts,' he added. The staircase was enclosed in a tiny closet-sized area. Why so small? And why was the den the largest room on the first floor? And why were all the details so strange with dolphin-shaped brackets and wavy-cut shingles?
Overall, the house was... Majestic. There was no other word that Ken felt was appropriate. It was your best friend, the scullery maid, who turned out to be a princess and heir to the throne. She was beautiful and graceful, but somehow down-to-earth and welcoming. The perfect hostess.
From the outside, the house had a wide round tower attached to the front left corner of a square house. The den was in the tower, and this was Brian's office. The rest of the rooms on the first floor were all small, and included the kitchen, dining room, a guest bedroom, living room, breakfast room, two bathrooms, and a sitting room off of the bedroom.
The second floor was strictly a series of bedrooms, the master bedroom occupied the second floor of the tower, the nursery, Julie's bedroom, a second guest bedroom, Ken's room, another bedroom used for storage (full of boxes, clothes, and miscellaneous bags), and three bathrooms.
For Ken, the third floor was the most fun, too bad it was just used for storage. It had three servant's bedrooms with dormer windows, all full of boxes, and best of all, a wonderful open attic space in the turret of the tower. If you stood in the middle of the attic and looked up, the point of the turret was a good 20 feet above you.
"There you are! Gotcha!" Julie was hiding behind one of the boxes in the attic. Ken grabbed her and tickled her. Julie squealed with laughter.
"Now it's your turn! Now it's your turn! Go hide someplace!" With exaggerated motions, Julie turned towards the nearest box, hid her eyes, and started counting.
Ken was happy to be playing hide-and-go-seek with Julie - it was much better than earlier when it seemed that Ken could do nothing right. First, he had botched her sandwich, using the wrong bread, buttering the bread instead of using mayonnaise, cutting the sandwich lengthwise instead of corner-to-corner. Julie actually threw his first attempt to the floor. Ken picked it up, brushed it off, and saved it for himself. He picked out a jar from the fridge.
"Uck!" Julie grimaced. "Not that grey mustard!"
"She likes the yellow stuff," Tina said.
"This?" Ken held up a jar for Tina to see.
"No, that has onions. You know, the ordinary stuff..."
"This?"
"No, that has whole mustard seeds. She hates that."
Ken went through 5 more jars of mustard, "No, that's got caraway seeds. That's too spicy. That's the brown mustard. On no! That's Japanese wasabi - that won't do."
Finally, Tina walked over to help Ken look. "My gosh, she said, I had no idea I owned so many different types of mustard." Finally she found what she was looking for, hidden behind the catsup.
After lunch, Ken went to the toilet, and when he got back, there was Julie, in his room, drawing a picture in crayon on his wall.
"See what I did?" She pointed, proudly. "That's you, and that's Tim, and there's the school bus..."
"Julie, you shouldn't be drawing on the walls, don't you have some drawing paper?"
"No..."
And that was how the day had gone, Julie getting into trouble, Ken cleaning up. Julie throwing a temper tantrum, Ken trying not to give in. It was exhausting. Finally, Ken had suggested they play hide and go seek.
Ken tip-toed out of the attic and went down to the second floor, wincing whenever a stair creaked. The stairs from the third to the second floor were servant's stairs, narrow, winding, and steep and Julie loved to run up and down them over and over again.
When he got to the second floor, Ken crossed the hall and went into Tina & Brian's master bedroom. The bedroom was haphazardly decorated, a scan-design bed, an old sofa, a fancy screen, a Chinese rug, two old dressers, a table with a mirror on it. Ken crossed the room entered the closet, and closed the door behind him.
The closet had a window! Ken had never seen a closet with a window before. Ken looked around. Apparently, the closet belonged to Brian. Lots of expensive suits, Ken noticed.
Ken listened to Julie walking back and forth out in the hall. "Kathy?" She called, from down the hall. "Where are you?"
Eventually, the door to the master bedroom opened and Ken heard someone moving about, crossing back and forth around the room. Another door opened... then closed.
Ken held his breath: the door to his closet rattled, but the door didn't open. After a little bit longer, Ken heard the person in the room leaving and walking downstairs.
"That's strange," he thought. Ken reached to open the closet door.
The door knob came off in his hand.
"Damn..." Ken put the knob back in the door, and tried turning it. Nothing. Ken was locked in.
Taking the knob off again, Ken fiddled with the mechanism inside.
"If only I had some kind of tool..." he muttered. Looking around the closet, Ken spied a box in the corner. He walked over and opened it - Golf magazines. Ken dug down a little further. Old "Home and Garden" magazines.
Ken rolled his eyes. "If this were *my* closet..." he muttered.
Ken heard foot steps in the bedroom. He quickly put the magazines back in the box and covered it up. Ken ran to the door and banged on it, "Help!" He called, "I'm stuck in the closet! Help!"
Later that night, after dinner and after he had put Julie to bed, Ken, not quite sleepy yet, wandered downstairs. The wooden staircase of the old house creaked noisily no matter how lightly he tried to tread.
"Tina?" Ken peeked into kitchen. Empty. Absentmindedly, Ken cleaned up, putting dinner dishes into the dishwasher, storing leftovers, wiping countertops, and straightening up. The empty wine bottle from last night was still on the countertop, but now with a second cork sitting next to it. Ken wandered into the living room.
"Oh, there you are," Ken said. Tina was in the large easy chair, wrapped in a comforter, sipping a glass of wine. She had a large coffee-table book on her lap, and was idly turning the pages.
"Hi Kathy," Tina said. "was Julie a good girl this time?"
"A princess," Ken replied, remembering how Julie had demanded he repeat his good-night story no less than seven times, each time with more elaborate details. "Where's Mr. Johnson?" Ken sat down in the loveseat by the fireplace and tucked his legs up underneath. The room was dark. Ken pulled his sweater a bit tighter, feeling chilled.
Tina snorted, "Brian? Oh, I'm sure he's at work... work, work, working away. God knows why."
"Well, he must have an important job, to be spending all of these late nights at work."
"I suppose," Tina said.
Ken sat still for a moment, feeling the walls of the living room pressing in. It was a small room, actually, not much larger than a small bedroom. Strange layout, Ken realized, for such a large house.
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Tina asked, suddenly.
"Oh... sure, of course," Ken replied.
"I saw your suitcase today. Did you only bring dresses to wear? You know, this is America, right? Land of 'comfort wear'? You could wear jeans and a T-shirt if you'd prefer."
"Oh... well, I guess I'm just more comfortable in dresses, mostly..." Ken stammered, wondering what to say. "Um... also I was thinking that if I were too casual it might make it more difficult to control Julie. You know, to maintain my position as an authentic English Nanny... or something like that."
"I guess that makes sense. Want to maintain some authority and dress the part, is that it?"
"Well, it certainly seemed to work for my teachers at home," Ken remarked, wryly.
Tina chuckled. "I bet. And did you have to wear a uniform when you went to school?"
Ken smiled. "Oh yes, in the early grades. Shirt, tie, blue pants."
"Tie? Pants? Really?"
"No! I mean..." Ken floundered, "No, I meant a skirt. Right, shirt & tie, jacket, and *skirt*." Ken thought back. What had his girl classmates worn? He tried to picture one, but failed. "With black patent shoes and white pull-up socks," he finished lamely.
"I bet you were an adorable little girl."
"No, rather a rascal, actually. The teachers always said: Come on Ke--- ah... Come on Kathy, pull up your socks!"
"Pull up your socks! That's great. I love British-isms."
"Have you ever been to England?" Ken asked, trying to move the subject to safer ground.
"Yes, actually. I went to Oxford for a summer semester."
"Oxford, really?"
"Yes. Art history." Tina held up her book, a Picasso retrospective.
"That's brilliant. My best friend in England is a critic of Art and Architecture. Where did you graduate?"
"Graduate?" Tina frowned. "Oh right. Well, I guess you could say that I graduated with an M-R-S degree from the local Episcopal church."
"Sorry," Ken was confused, "an M-R-S degree?"
"Right," Tina's voice was dripping sarcasm. "As in I became '*Mrs*. Brian Johnson', and ceased to exist as Christina Everett."
"Oh," Ken faltered. He was about to say 'I'm sorry,' but at the last second changed it to "I understand."
"No, please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Tina apologized. "I made my choice, and Julie and Michael are both wonderful." She sighed. "Anyway, you should head on up to bed. It's been a long day."
"I guess you're right." Ken got up and brushed off his skirt.
"Oh, and Kathy, remember that tomorrow's Julie's ballet class."
"Well, that sounds like fun!"
"Well, it is just adorable. Oh, and they're always looking for adults to fill in the local production. Maybe you'd like to try out? You certainly have the figure for it."
"Me? In a ballet? Oh no, I don't think so," Ken's eyes grew wide with fright.
"Oh, but why not?" Tina teased.
"Well, because..." Because I'm a man!! Ken wanted to shout. "Oh, I don't know. Ah... just embarrassed, I guess."
"Well, you can talk to the instructor tomorrow. But watch out: she's very persuasive."
Brian lay his head down on his desk and closed his eyes. 'I'll just rest here for a minute,' he thought, 'and then I'll finish up and go home.'
Brian had been at work since 7:30 AM, and it was now almost midnight. For some incomprehensible reason, he had promised the reports on these last two companies by the next day, and now he felt obligated to deliver.
Brian was a stock analyst and researcher. It was his job to predict a company's future in terms of revenue growth, data which was then used by others to predict stock prices. Further, Brian specialized in longer-term predictions of over 5 years. It was something he was uncommonly good at it.
Once, as a finance intern in a large manufacturing firm with nothing better to do, Brian started drawing diagrams of his department, connected with arrows and lines to show how everyone worked together, who influenced who, and so on. Eventually he began to connect these diagrams to larger groups in the organization, such as Engineering, Sales, Administration, etc. and then also with outside influences, vendors, customers, and so on.
Soon the diagrams (which now covered the walls of an unused office) caught the interest of the CEO, who took one look and re-assigned Brian to his personal staff. During this time, Brian began to develop a theory on how good organizations operated, the "COI" theory.
"COI" stood for "Customers, Operations, and Innovation", and Brian found that the best organizations had three people who ran the place, each of which filled one of these three roles. In larger companies, these roles would typically be filled by the VP of Marketing, the CEO, and the VP of Engineering. But even in the best smaller companies, there always seemed to be one person who knew the customer the best, someone who focused on strictly operational issues (finance, processes, recruiting, etc), and someone who was constantly innovating on the product. The more clearly defined these roles were in the group and the closer these three people worked together, the better the group functioned and improved over time.
The CEO decided it was time to take action. Using the diagrams, he restructured the entire organization and executed a 15% workforce reduction. Brian was shocked that all his work, which he had done as a kind of "Business Sociologist" could be used for such a brutal end result, but he had to admit that the CEO knew what he was doing. Expenses were reduced, profits shot up, and new products (free of burdensome bureaucratic controls) burst forth. The stock tripled in two years.
Brian's work had been used to create over a billion dollars in market capitalization, and he was still only an intern.
After school, Brian took a job with his father's company, Spencer and Johnson, an old-time investment banking firm initially founded by his grandfather. He was assigned to the worst possible job: stock analyst, and was told to work his way up from the bottom.
Stock analysts are the bottom feeders of American capitalism. Basically their job is to badger company employees to reveal insider secrets and then use the information to write a report.
Now just 24, Brian applied his new diagramming techniques to the companies he was assigned to follow. The reports that followed were detailed, specific, and thoroughly researched with supporting materials. Brian had found his niche. Ten year later and his reputation has a genius within the firm and the industry was unassailable.
Not that any of this mattered to his father, of course. "I need you to run this company," he had requested, over and over. Brian had refused. He was 'I' (innovation), not the 'O' or 'C'.
But it was times like this, late at night with his head on his desk, that Brian began to wonder what he was doing here, creating diagrams to help make the filthy rich even more filthy rich.
As his mind wandered, Brian couldn't help but apply his diagramming technique to his own family. There was Tina, and she was connected to Brian via marriage, and the information they communicated... but what was the information they communicated? Brian could only think of things like school, money, and house repairs. Shouldn't there be more? What about love, commitment, and the future?
Originally, Brian had thought of Julie as the third component in his diagram. Tina would be operations, Brian would be inspiration, and Julie would be customer relations - it all worked out. Except when Michael was born where did he fit in? And also, it turned out that Julie wasn't someone that Brian could actually talk to. Well, of course he talked to her, but no discussions like, "Julie, what do you think are the root causes of our household dysfunctionality?" Not that Brian had had these discussions with Tina, either...
So maybe Julie was the customer? And when Michael was born, it was as if Brian and Tina had just manufactured another customer. "There's a new business model," Brian thought to himself, with a sick sense of humor. "Imagine if companies could manufacture their own customers!"
But clearly that wasn't right, after all Julie and Michael were in the family, not outside customers with goals and business plans of their own.
So maybe Julie and Michael were the product? And maybe the world (or society) at large was the customer? This seemed to fit, Brian thought, in that Tina was constantly concerned that her children were being raised properly. And further, it made sense in that the goal of the family was to provide the best possible environment for the production of the product... kind of like the winery that Brian was currently following, which would put its port wine in special oak barrels underground for umpteen years.
But then, what about the theory of three, of COI? Clearly Tina was most in touch with the customer. Brian was in charge of operations, finances and what-not. Were they missing the 'I'? Who was providing the inspiration for their family? Could Julie do this eventually?
Brian opened his eyes for a second and stared at his coffee cup, which said: "I've either had too much coffee or not enough sex!"
Brian grimaced. It was an embarrassing coffee cup, and he kept it only because it came from Tina. It was her first gift to him.
When had he and Tina last had sex? Brian thought back. Had it been when Michael was conceived? A year and a half ago?
With a sigh, Brian sat back up, brushed off a paper clip from his face, and continued working.
"Miss Cabrini! Miss Cabrini! Look who I brought!" Julie raced up to her ballet instructor.
"Who, Julie, who?" asked Miss Cabrini, laughing, as she knelt down and gave Julie a hug.
"My nanny! Kathy!"
"Well hello, Kathy! I'm Sarah Cabrini," she held out a hand, "pleased to meet you."
"And very pleased to meet you too."
"And such cold hands!" Sarah grasped Ken's hand in both of hers and rubbed vigorously.
"Mommy says Kathy should join us in class," Julie said. "Can she, Miss Cabrini? Can she?"
Sarah looked delighted. "Oh, yes! You must help us out, Kathy. I've created a ballet version of 'The Sound of Music'. It's just a few simple steps, you could learn them in a jiffy."
"Oh no, I couldn't. I mean, I don't have shoes, or a costume, or anything..."
"Oh, don't worry about that. One of the mother's has volunteered to make the costumes. You'd be in a nun's habit, it's very simple."
"You mean, long robes?" If he was covered up... maybe it wouldn't be so bad?
"Right! Covered from head to toe."
"Well, perhaps..."
"Excellent! You'll be great." Sarah stepped up to Ken. "And tonight, since it looks like we're pretty much the same size, you can wear my spare leotard."
"What??" Ken gasped out loud, instinctively backing away out of fear. "You mean, I have to practice in a *leotard*?"
"Of course, silly," Julie rolled her eyes as if to ask how could *anyone* be so clueless? "Everyone wears leotards to practice." Julie turned to Sarah, "Mommy said she'd buy Kathy a leotard and toe shoes, if she wanted," she stated, smugly.
"Now, Julie, you go and start warming up," Sarah gently pushed her towards an open space on the bar.
Ken felt himself hurtling towards the worst mistake of his life. "Miss Cabrini..."
"Please, call me Sarah."
"Right, ummm.... Oh dear. Sarah, please, I just can't do this. I've never danced before, I'm sure I'd be horrible..."
"Not a problem! I can teach anyone!"
"and..." Ken thought he would have to admit the truth, or something close to it. "Well, I'm so embarrassed about my figure. I'm so scrawny."
Sarah looked at Ken, with sympathy. "Oh sweetheart, look at you. Your figure is standard issue Russian ballerina. Did you ever notice how gawky they are when not on stage? Your movements are not graceful, perhaps, but we'll work on that. Now here, I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer, so you might just as well give up and come with me." Sarah grasped Ken's wrist firmly and dragged him to her office. "Here's my spare leotard and tights. You can change in here."
With that, Sarah left to start teaching class, closing the office door behind her, leaving Ken holding the dance clothes, looking for all the world like a trapped sparrow.
"So, how was ballet class?" Tina asked. Ken, Tina, and Julie were all at the dinner table. Brian was still at work.
"It was great!" Julie exclaimed. "Kathy danced with us!"
"Oh she did, did she?" Tina grinned. "I warned you that Sarah would be persuasive."
Ken blushed, picking at his food. "Well, truthfully, I must admit to having had a very nice time."
"So, what did you do for a leotard?"
"Oh, Sarah loaned me one," Ken said, nonchalantly.
But at the time, ken was almost in tears as he frantically searched the office for anything, *anything*, which would help. He had almost given up when he opened up Sarah's first-aid kit and found a large roll of surgical tape.
Taking off his panties, he gently pushed his testicles into his body, pushed his penis down between his legs, and taped it all in place with a long strip of surgical tape which went from his abdomen to his buttocks. To be safe, he added two more pieces, and then a another one around his waist, as a belt, to help hold everything in place.
Ken had also found a sports bra in Sarah's duffle bag, which held his false breasts in place. Thusly taped up and strapped in, he slid on the black tights and pink leotard (both of which felt wonderful sliding on, he had to admit) and, on shaky legs, went to join the rest of the class.
And the class had been wonderful! Sure, the constant pulling at his crotch had been painful, but learning all of the different positions, learning how to move with graceful motions, learning simply how to walk across the stage, all that had been a dream come true. Ken was surrounded by women and girls, everyone accepting him as just another dancer, all of them working intently on the new production which was now just a month and a half away. And Ken, in his borrowed pink ballet shoes, had walked along side them, stood in line, and attempted some of the easier steps at Sarah's direction.
"You'll be my special project," Sarah had whispered to Ken during class, while adjusting the position of his arms, causing Ken to gulp hard.
It wasn't until they got home that Ken had had to pay for his deception. His penis, stomach, and bum now had angry red stripes across them where he had ripped off the tape, taking no small amount of skin and hair with it.
Ken winced at the memory. Turning to Tina he said "But I'll have to go shopping for my own costume, some day this week."
Tina brightened up. "Shopping! What a wonderful idea. I haven't had a good shopping trip with a girl friend for months! We'll go this Saturday. Oh, and the tights and toe shoes will be my treat, no, I insist. I've never seen Julie this excited about ballet class. Normally she just likes to wear her tutu."
"Oh thank you!" Ken was truly grateful. But what am I going to do about my penis? he thought to himself, anxiously. Ken thought that after a few weeks of ripping tape off his body, there would be no skin left at all.
"So, anything else interesting happen at ballet class?" Tina inquired.
"No, not really," Ken lied.
After class was over, Ken was heading back to the office to change when Sarah caught him by the wrist and whispered, "I know your secret."
"What?" Ken's eyes went wide as his stomach lurched.
"Come inside," Sarah dragged him into the office. "Kathy, it's so obvious. I know bodies really well, and I can easily tell that you're..."
Sarah paused, looking carefully at Ken's frightened expression.
"...anorexic."
"Oh," Ken let out his breath, relieved.
"No!" Sarah said, sharply. "It's dangerous, and unhealthy! When I was in college studying ballet, I weighed only 98 pounds. I almost starved to death. And my bones were so brittle that I broke my hip bone during practice and my career was over," she snapped her fingers. "Just like that."
Sarah held Ken's hands in hers. "See, you're cold all the time, aren't you? And you have more hair on your face and arms than other girls," Sarah held up Ken's arms. "These are all symptoms of an eating disorder. And your body, it has no fat whatsoever, you're all skin and bones sticking out. And I can see that you're using extra padding for your breasts."
"But I do eat. Quite a lot, actually. It's just sometimes..." Ken trailed off.
"Sometimes, what? Sometimes you purge yourself?"
"Uh..."
Sarah looked at Ken with sympathy, and then pulled him into a warm embrace. "Take it from someone who has struggled her whole life: You do not need to loose weight to feel good about yourself, not when you have friends like Julie and me to look after you." Sarah smiled and pulled out a piece of paper from her duffle bag. "Now, here's the number of my therapist. Call him when you feel up to it. And here's my cell number, call me if you want to talk, any time, day or night."
Sarah turned to head back to the class, which was packing up. "Oh, and you don't have to change if you don't want to. Just bring back the clothes next time. You can use them to practice with Julie, if you'd like."
"You don't need them?"
Sarah laughed. "I've got like, what? 3 dozen pairs? No, I don't need them."
That night, Ken woke to the sound of Michael sniffling and fussing. Ken had always been a light sleeper.
"What do I do?" Ken wondered.
Since he was up, Ken decided to go see if he could help calm him down. This time, he remembered to put on his breast forms and a bra, just in case.
"Now, what could be the matter with you?" Ken cooed to Michael, reaching a hand into the crib to stroke his tummy. Seeing Ken, Michael started to cry in earnest.
"Oh, hush there. I know that you're not feeling good..." Ken lifted Michael out of the crib, wiped his nose with a tissue and went to sit down in the rocking chair. Rocking and soft humming seemed to calm Michael down a bit.
Feeling Michael shifting his body, Ken looked down and saw Michael reaching for his breast! "Oh Michael," Ken said, concerned now, "I don't think that I have anything for you there..."
"He's probably just hungry," Ken looked up to see Brian standing in the door, loose tie around his neck.
"But what can I do?" Ken asked, "clearly I can't breast feed him," if only, thought Ken.
"Hold on, I'll make up a bottle." Brian disappeared downstairs, returning a few minutes later.
Ken turned Michael on to his back. Michael reached for the bottle and started drinking.
"There you go," Brian smiled. "Mind if I join you for a bit?"
"Not at all."
Brian sat down on the floor, his back against the door. Brian and Ken watched Michael drink for a while.
"We haven't had much time to talk, so I was just wondering if everything is going OK?" Brian asked.
"Oh yes, very well, thank you. Julie and I are getting along just famously."
"Julie? My daughter? The one who threw grape juice all over my new suit last week? That Julie?"
Ken was flustered, "Yes, I think so..."
Brian chuckled. "It's a miracle! But then, I see you have a way with children," he motioned towards Michael.
Ken looked down. Michael was sound asleep in his arms, snoring softly, bottle to his side. "Oh, he's so beautiful," Ken whispered, in awe at the soft bundle nestled in his arms.
"Yeah, they're cute at this age."
Ken paused as he heard the house gently creak with the wind outside. Michael, still asleep, sniffled a bit, rolled to his side and placed a hand on Ken's breast.
Ken looked up, flushed with embarrassment, but Brian seemed not to notice.
"So, ah, do you work late often?" Ken asked, trying to make conversation.
"Yes, unfortunately. I do research on companies for my family's investment banking firm, and so every quarter there are all these reports to do. And twice a year I usually have to do an extended road trip to visit the companies in person. In fact, I have one coming up."
"Can't you get someone to help you?"
"Well, we've been looking for someone, but it's not easy..."
"Oh!" Ken had an inspiration, "What about Tim...?" he paused. "His father lives just two houses down?"
Brian thought for a second, then laughed, "Tim Downey? Little Timmy? That brat who used to ride his bike all over our yard?"
Ken sputtered, "Well, he told me, ummm... he told me that he was studying business and looking for some work over the summer."
"Oh he did, did he? You two have talked?"
"Well, er.... yes, once or twice while waiting for Julie at the bus stop."
"You know, I did notice that he had grown into quite a handsome young man," Brian winked.
"Well, I didn't notice that..." Ken blushed, flustered again.
Brian got up. "Well, whether you did or not, he would be a great catch!"
'Julie and Brian, both trying to set me up with Tim. What's going on here?' Ken thought furiously to himself.
"Well, I'm headed to bed, and I recommend you do the same, and Kathy..."
"Yes?"
"Thank you so much for all your help."
Ken smiled at the compliment, "You're quite welcome, I'm actually having a wonderful time."
And just then, Ken realized it was true.
Ken opened the door to discover a large boisterous man standing on the front step.
"Hello?"
"Hi there! I'm Marc La Rossa, are you Kathy?"
"Yes, but..." Ken looked up, confused. Marc was wearing a plaid shirt with jeans and carried a tape measure and a clipboard.
Marc extended a hand. "Pleased to meet ya Ma'am. I'm here to look at the bathroom tile? Tim Downey sent me over, said you had some trouble?"
"The bathroom tile... ? Oh! Yes! Please come in!" Ken ushered him in.
"Yeah, Tim's father, Mr. Downey, wants to install a cabana outside his pool, so I happened to be in the area... Hey look, you have a pool, too."
"Who is it, Kathy?" Tina walked in, curious. Michael was in his playpen enjoying himself and Julie was at school.
"Tina, meet... ah..." Ken hesitated.
"Marc La Rossa, Ma'am. Boy, it's been near 20 years since I've been in this place."
"You've been here before?" Tina asked, curiouser and curiouser.
"You bet. 'Course I was working for my dad at the time. We put up all these walls right here," Marc thumped the wall to the side of the foyer.
"What do you mean?" Ken asked.
"You mean, you don't know? Well, you see, Isaac Johnson, he was the one who started that investment banking firm, right?"
"Brian's grandfather," Tina supplied.
"So it's his grandson which lives here now, right? Anyway, ol' man Isaac broke his hip one day, by that time his wife had died, you knew that, right?"
"Uh, of course," Tina mumbled, although it was clear she was hearing this for the first time.
"Anyway, as I said, he broke his hip and decided to set up a bedroom downstairs, so he wouldn't have to walk up and down the stairs all the time. And then, after his hip healed, he decided to make it permanent, so he hired my dad to put up all these walls. And that's why you have, maybe, twice as many rooms on the first floor than you ought to have."
"Oh!" Ken exclaimed. "So that's why!"
"What's why?" Tina asked.
"That's why the layout of the first floor is so strange."
"Well," Marc continued, "all I know is that this," *pound*, "this," *pound*, "and this didn't exist before. And in here..." Marked walked into the living room, pounding on walls, trailed by Ken and Tina, "these three rooms were all one room, and the bathroom here didn't exist at all. Basically the first floor had just four rooms: Kitchen, living room / foyer, dining room, and the library, which I guess is now Mr. Johnson's office over there, instead of seven, like it has now."
"Wow," Tina's eyes started to glimmer. "Wouldn't that make a wonderful space for entertaining?"
"And look at this!" Marc pointed. "That big wheel there by the ceiling? That holds up a door, one of two, which used to divide the living room and dining room. You could slide those doors apart so you have this great big opening between the two rooms."
"Like one big party space!" Tina nearly bubbled over.
"I wonder what it would take to put it back the way it was," Ken mused.
"I'll write up an estimate, if you'd like," Marc offered.
"No, I didn't mean..." Ken stammered
"No, I'm curious," Tina interjected. "Any idea of a ballpark estimate?"
"I'm thinking..." Marc scratched his head behind the ear and did some mental math, "maybe 75 to 100 thousand dollars?"
"Oh!" Ken was astounded. That was as much as a new house! Just to tear down some walls?
"Well, that's not bad!" Tina said. "Boy, I would love to do it."
"OK, I'll take some measurements and write something up for ya. Now, suppose I take a look at the bathroom? Oh, and hey, should I send someone to clean up that pool in your backyard?"
"Yes!" Tina and Ken both fairly shouted, in unison.
"Hi Kathy!" Tim walked over and then sat down on the bench. Ken was waiting for Julie's bus to arrive home.
"Hi Tim!" Ken smiled. "I wanted to thank you so much for sending Marc over to look at the bathroom. He's wonderful!"
"Isn't he? And did he tell you his real name? He's Italian, and his real name is 'Marco Polo LaRossa', isn't that great?"
Ken giggled, delighted. "That's wonderful! I'll have to kid him about it later."
Ken smiled at Tim, who seemed to be nervous and fidgety.
"Kathy?" Tim asked, tentatively.
"Yes Tim?"
"I... ah... would you like to go... out... " Tim's voice trailed off to nothing.
Ken noticed for the first time that Tim was flushed. "Sorry, Tim?"
"Oh, I understand if you can't. After all, your real home is a thousand miles away..."
"No no, I meant, sorry, but I just didn't hear you. What did you say?"
Tim cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I would like to take you out to dinner and a show," the words all tumbled out in a rush, "my dad has tickets to the touring production of this Broadway show, and I know this great restaurant, and I think it would be really great if you could accompany me andwouldyouliketogooutonadatewithme?" Tim held his breath.
"What?" Ken was flustered, "you mean you're asking *me* out on a date??"
"Well... yes, I was hoping... please?"
"Oh, Tim, I can't go out with you!" Ken was aghast.
"Why not?"
Shit! Ken thought to himself. Why not, exactly? Because I'm a man!!! Ken screamed to himself.
"Because I... Oh, I don't know... It's... ah... all so sudden...." Ken trailed off, lamely, his mind spinning. All of a sudden he felt nauseous and for a split second thought about running home to go throw up in the toilet. This can't be happening to me, Ken thought to himself, Tim is such a nice guy, I really like Tim! What am I going to do??
*Beeeep* Just then the bus rolled up. There is a God, Ken thought to himself.
"Well, just think about it, OK? The tickets are for a week from now, that is, you know, next Thursday? I mean, I know it's short notice..."
Tim looked so abashed, that Ken almost said yes, right then and there.
"What Kathy? Tickets for what?" Julie ran up, grasped Ken's hand, and pulled him upright.
"I've asked Kathy out on a date!" Tim exclaimed.
"A date! A date! Ooooooh a date! Kathy has a daa-aate. Kathy has a daa-aate!"
Ken looked at Tim, shooting daggers. Now that Julie knew, Ken knew he wouldn't get a moment's rest. "Good *bye* Tim," Ken said, with annoyance, as he walked and Julie skipped back to the house.
"Good bye!" Tim called back, "I'll talk to you tomorrow!"
Ken and Julie skipped home together, but as they approached the house, Ken could feel that something was wrong. First, there was Brian's car parked in the front driveway. And as he opened the front door, he could hear shouting.
"You bastard! Fine! Just get out, if that's what you're going to do!" Ken heard Tina scream at the top of her lungs.
"Stop that! You're not listening!" Brian shouted, and then Ken heard something smash against the countertop. Both of them appeared to be ignoring Michael, who was wailing at the top of his lungs upstairs.
Ken quickly reversed course.
"Let's go for a walk in the park, okay Julie?"
"Okay, Kathy," she said, quietly.
After a few moments of walking in silence, Julie just stopped and looked up Ken, her eyes moist. "What's wrong with Mommy and Daddy, Kathy?"
Ken squatted down and pulled Julie into a warm embrace. "I don't know Julie," he said softly.
"Are they angry with me?"
"Oh no!" Ken hugged her tighter. "Of course not. They both love you very much. It's just that... sometimes grownups just need to let off steam, sometimes."
"Let off steam?"
Ken thought. "Well, you know how you threw that terrible temper tantrum last week when I wouldn't let you wear your pink leotard to school?"
"Yes..."
"Well, sometimes grownups need to throw a temper tantrum too. Do you see?"
"I guess so..."
"And when they're done, everything will be okay. You'll see."
"Okay"
Please let it be okay, Ken thought to himself.
Waiting in the courtesy club for his flight to leave, Brian ran through the argument in his mind, getting more and more angry with himself each time.
"Why do I let her get to me? Why do I let her provoke me like that?"
Trying to calm down, Brian pulled out a pad of paper and started sketching organization diagrams, something he normally found very soothing. He was waiting for a flight to Italy for the European Investor's Conference. The Europeans always have the best conferences, he was fond of saying, the best locations and the best wine.
It was the first stop of what promised to be a very long business trip.
Brian wasn't so much angry at Tina, but more angry at himself. He had been schooled to never loose his temper - it was a sign of weakness. Loosing your temper made everyone around you nervous and defensive. "What is it about Tina which gets under my skin and sets me off like this?"
Tim looked at his diagram. There was Tina, and himself, connected by many lines. And then Julie, with several lines to Tina and a single line to Brian. 'There's my triangle,' he thought to himself, 'the most stable organizational structure.' And then he started obsessively adding everyone else he could think of to the diagram: Michael, Kathy, Tim Downey, his parents, Tina's parents, his younger sister and her husband (Tina was an only child), Julie's playmates, other miscellaneous friends.
Looking down, Tim realized that, with the exception of his immediate family and Kathy (who was in the category of 'vendor/services'), he hadn't talked with anyone on the diagram in years.
While watching Julie listlessly swing on the swing set, Ken thought back to the shouting arguments he had heard as a child. For some reason, they had never bothered him. In fact, he could remember sitting with his sister Kathy in her room, as they listened and actually giggled over the fight between his parents going on like pub brawl downstairs.
He remembered the fight about the shelves that held his dad's rugby trophies and his mum's antique Victorian ceramic figurines. The argument had deteriorated to the point where a figurine and a trophy were both being waved about, each parent threatening to smash one of them into the fireplace. Fortunately, they came to their senses before there was any actual knick-knack carnage.
Eventually Ken's mum did make room on her shelf to hold one more trophy, but every chance she got, she would turn it to face the wall. It would sit there until Henry got home, at which point he would turn it to face front again. Sometimes on weekends the poor trophy would get turned around a dozen times a day, fairly spinning on the shelf. Soon, it had worn a circular ring into the paint on the shelf.
But Ken had never been worried about those fights, not like he was now worried sick to his stomach over the fight between Brian and Tina. Perhaps it had been because both his parents had their own integrity, a mutual self respect that Ken had subconsciously understood. It had been his mother, after all, who had stood up to her husband, defending Ken when his father was blind with rage at his own son's cross-dressing.
Ken and Julie stayed in the park as long as possible that afternoon. By the time they got back, Brian's car was gone and they found Tina in the living room, waiting for them.
"Could you look after Michael this afternoon?" Tina asked. "I need to... ahhh... visit a friend. Is that OK?"
"Sure!" Ken had said, wanting to help out in any way he could.
"There's bottles for Michael in the fridge. Just warm one up when he gets hungry," and with that, Tina walked out and drove away.
And so Ken and Julie whiled away the day, playing games or coloring in coloring books. Julie was so despondent that she didn't even take the opportunity to tease Ken about Tim. Ken was so stressed about the situation that he had to throw up lunch just to calm his nerves.
Tina got home very late that night, well after dinner and after Ken had put both Julie and Michael to bed.
"Kathy..." Tina had said, her speech slurred. She slumped down on the living room sofa. "Thank you so much for taking care of the children today," Tina reached out and put a hand on Ken's arm.
"Oh, that's okay. I'm just glad I was able to help," Ken patted her hand, trying to comfort her. He could easily smell the alcohol on her breath.
"Kathy?" Tina asked.
"Yes?"
"I don't..." Tina gulped, tears brimming up, "I just don't... I don't know what I would do without you! Thank goodness you're here. I..." Tina descended into racking sobs, clutching at Ken. Not knowing what to do, Ken pulled her into a hug and let her cry on his shoulder.
"It's just..." Tina sobbed, "it's just... he sees right through me, do you know what I mean? It's like I've disappointed him somehow in some horrible way and now he can't stand to be in the same room with me..."
"Shush," Ken hushed, gently holding and rocking her until the tears slowed.
"Let's take you upstairs," Ken said, "a good night's sleep and tomorrow will be a whole new day."
Once upstairs, Ken sat Tina down on the bed. "Now, you lay down here, and I'm going to make you a nice cup of hot tea with milk and honey. It's what my mother would always make for me."
Tina nodded like a little girl and curled up on the bed.
But by the time he returned, Ken found Tina fast asleep, still with all her clothes on.
Not knowing what else to do, Ken sat down on the bed and had the tea for himself.
'Now what?' he wondered. Looking at Tina, he realized he should put her properly to bed.
So, first the shoes. Ken untied Tina's tennis shoes and gradually worked each one off her feet, followed by her socks.
Tina didn't move a muscle. Thusly encouraged, Ken unbuckled her belt, unzipped her fly, took a deep breath, and gently, slowly, pulled Tina's jeans down off her body, stopping to pull the cuffs over each foot before taking them off completely.
Tina was wearing black cotton panties underneath, the sight of which caused Ken to blush. He had never undressed another woman before, and undressing Tina, getting her more comfortable for a good night's sleep, felt vaguely illegal. Ken felt guilty for staring, but he couldn't help but admire Tina's hips and legs, which were much more womanly than his own.
Next was her shirt, a simple cotton pull-over.
"Now here we go, I'm just getting you ready for bed, and we'll need to take this off, OK?" Ken said to the unconscious woman, screwing up his courage.
Tina, of course, was completely dead to the world and moved not a muscle as Ken grasped the bottom of the shirt and pulled it over her head, her arms clumsily flopping this way and that.
'I am in bed with my employer's wife,' Ken realized, 'and all she is wearing is her bra and knickers.'
Ken nearly stopped there, and thought about just tucking Tina under the covers. But, unlike most men, Ken had actually spent a night (several, actually) wearing a bra, and he knew what an uncomfortable and strangling experience it could be. And so resolved to see this out to the very end, Ken turned Tina to one side, unhooked her bra, and then pulled it up and off her arms.
'She's beautiful,' Ken realized. Somehow, Tina's beauty had always been covered up before, with sweat pants, or baggy shirts, her hair bunched carelessly behind her, with a stressed-out tightness pinching her face. Now, asleep on the bed, muscles relaxed, long brunette hair spread across the bed, Ken saw her as the vision he imagined Brian must have fell in love with.
Rummaging through her closet Ken found a comfortable-looking long flannel nightgown. After pausing for a second to look through some of Tina's other clothes, in particular her formal evening gowns and intimate lingerie, Ken took the nightgown over to Tina, took each of her arms, threaded them through the arm holes of the nightgown, slipped it over her head, and then worked it down her body and down her legs. Pulling the sheets to one side, he arranged Tina's body comfortably on the bed, covered her with the sheet and blanket, turned off the lights, and then left her to sleep, closing the door softly behind him.
by RH Music
Ken, a gawky English boy, steals his sister's passport to become an au pair in America. There he encounters an inattentive husband, a frustrated wife, a rebellious daughter, and an amorous boy next door. How will he, now she, manage it all? (no sex, just a sweet, TG story)
The next morning, a thick envelope arrived for Ken.
By that time, Julie was already on her way to school, and Michael had been fed and his diaper had been changed. Tina was still asleep.
Ken had put Michael in his stroller and was gently rocking him. He was exhausted by the morning's frantic flurry of activity. 'How did my mother manage it all those years?' he wondered. 'How does Tina manage it every day?'
Ken opened the package, it was from his friend, Sandra, and contained a note.
Our Dearest Kathy K:
Thank you very much for your prompt letter. Sarah and I had a wonderful time reading it, and we demand that you write as often as you can! Your story is fascinating so please keep us up-to-date.
We think it's wonderful that you're fitting in so well, I always knew you would. But are you feeling homesick so far away from home? If so, let me know, and I'll arrange a trip to the states to visit.
By the way, I checked on your address, and it turns out that the house where you are staying is quite famous. It is one of only three complete houses still standing built in the shingle style by American architects McKim, Mead, and White. My colleague in the area actually studied the house for his Doctoral dissertation some years ago. So take care of the place! You're living in a historical monument of considerable significance.
Nothing much new to report here. Got a death threat recently from an artist, third one this year and it's only April! Sarah is as busy as ever, recently engaged doing costumes for a local production of 'Follies'. She is now sodding sick of sewing sequins.
All our love,
Sandra and Sarah.
PS: Sarah included some things she made at the last minute, which our group thought you might find useful. Your story has been quite inspiring to them.
Ken dumped the contents of the envelope onto the table, and held up a T-shirt, a sports bra, a swim suit, and a very small pair of panties. The panties had a note pinned to them:
"Hi Kathy, this is a gaffe. Put it on very tight and it should hold your private parts neatly hidden away. It might be helpful with a swimming costume. -- Sarah"
'Or with a ballet costume!' Ken thought with elation. No more having to tape his genitals to his body!
Upon further inspection, Ken noticed the T-Shirt had pockets for inserting breast forms, as did the sports bra and the swim suit.
Ken's heart ached, so grateful he was for Sarah's thoughtfulness, and missing both of them so much.
Hearing Tina in the bathroom, Ken quickly hid his new clothes in his bedroom.
"Oooohhhh...." Tina shuffled into the kitchen, still in her flannel nightgown and slippers, stringy hair covering her face. "I need coffee."
Ken guided Tina to the breakfast table. Having anticipated her condition, a pot of coffee was already hot. Ken poured her a cup.
"How did I get into this nightgown?" Tina asked.
"Ummmm, well, that was me," Ken admitted.
"I haven't worn it in ages. I'd forgotten how comfortable it is. Was I that pathetic?"
"No! Of course not."
"Hah. You lie." Tina paused for a second, but then, from nowhere, tears began to well up. "Oh Kathy!" she said, leaning over and giving Ken a big hug, "thank you so much for taking care of me last night. You're becoming just like a sister to me. My younger, more responsible sister, that is. The one I always prayed for growing up."
"Really, it was no problem," Ken said, handing Tina a tissue, "you were just exhausted, and no wonder!"
"Exhausted and drunk, you mean. I was out with a girlfriend of mine last night. She said I should just leave Brian if he didn't appreciate me."
Ken's wide eyes showed his anxiety.
"Oh, don't worry," Tina continued, patting his arm. "This is the same friend who has already been divorced three times, can you believe? So I would never take her advice."
The two of them sat in silence for a minute, Tina sipping her coffee and Ken sipping his tea.
"But something has got to change!" Tina blurted out, banging her fist on the table. "I'm tired of Brian running this house from remote control. It's always *his* house, *his* furniture, *his* children, *his* yard, *his* family relations... but where is he? Always at work, never at home. It gets me so frustrated I just want to scream!"
Tina spied the note from Sandra. "What's this?"
"Oh, it's a note from my parents in England, you should read it."
Tina picked up the letter and started to read. "McKim, Mead, and White?" Tina exclaimed. "Stanford White? But they're, like, really famous! I read about them in college."
Tina paused, looking into space. It was as if her face, even in its current, pathetic, splotchy condition, was gradually coming into focus.
"It's time to change things." Tina muttered, walking over to the phone. Picking up a card from the countertop, she dialed.
"Hi, is this Marc LaRossa? Hi Mr. LaRossa, it's Tina Johnson. Listen, do you have that estimate ready? Excellent. Brian and I have discussed this, and we want to do it." Tina looked over and winked at Ken.
"That's right, all of it," she continued, "but here's the catch. It needs to be done in a month."
Ken heard panicky noises coming from the other side of the phone.
"Well okay then, let's not redo the kitchen. Let's just knock out all these extra walls and restore the surfaces of the main rooms. Surely that can be done in a month?" Tina paused, listening for a while. "Sounds great. Oh, and the pool too. Right... Okay... I'll get right on that, and let's meet this evening to talk about terms? Excellent. Bye."
Tina looked at Ken with a big smile on her face.
"But," Ken stuttered, "how... what... are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I hate living like this. All these small rooms. Each one no bigger than a coffin. That's how this place feels to me right now."
"But why a month?"
"'Cause that's how long Brian is going to be away. That's what the fight was about yesterday. Everything has to be done before he gets home and has a chance to object," she giggled. "He will just go ballistic, but you know what? If he's got a problem with it, well... then, he should be spending more time at home."
"You want to teach him a lesson," Ken said, his voice neutral.
Tina hesitated. "Well, yes, I guess I do. But look, you saw what your Dad said, right?" she picked up the letter and waved it. "This house deserves to be treated right. And what was it that Mr. LaRossa was saying?"
"... about how all these walls were done by Brian's grandfather, so he didn't have to climb stairs?"
"Right! These aren't original. So, let's restore the house to the way it ought to be! Surely Brian can't object to that, can he? It's a restoration - we're just taking better care of his own house. Better than he would ever have done," Tina snorted.
Ken was astonished. Was this the same Tina that he had tucked into bed last night?
"And Kathy?" Tina asked, "could you call your friend and get the number of his colleague? The one who did the dissertation on this house? Marc mentioned that we'd need some expert help to do a proper job."
"Tim, I'm so glad to see you again, I've been thinking, and I really don't think I can go out with you."
Kathy and Tim were at the bus stop again, waiting for Julie.
"I just love your accent."
"Didn't you hear what I said?"
"Of course I heard. But your lips say one thing and your eyes say another."
Ken smiled despite himself. "Are you always such a charmer? Oh Bollocks. Please, Tim, it just doesn't make sense."
"Why not?"
"Well..." Ken had rehearsed this the night before but now, for some reason, he had a hard time getting the words out.
"I'm from England, right?" Ken ventured. "And I do like you..."
"You like me?" Tim's face lit up with pleasure.
"...but what happens after our date?" Ken hurried on, blushing. "Someday I'm going to go back to England to be with my family and we'll both get our hearts broken, and then we'll regret it for the rest of my life and...." Ken trailed off. Suddenly, this wasn't coming out the way that he had intended.
"Kathy, what are you talking about?" Tim reached for Ken's hand and held it tenderly. "It's just one date, that's all. Let's just go and be together. One teeny little date. What could be wrong with that?"
"I..." Ken was desperately trying gather his thoughts and say something intelligent, but all he could do was stare down at Tim holding his hand. The feeling was intense, as if an energy conduit had opened up between them.
'I'm holding hands with a Boy,' Ken thought to himself. 'A boy is sitting next to me, asking me out on a date, and he is holding my hand.'
A boy is holding my hand!
"Tim... I..."
***BEEEEP*** The bus pulled up.
Tim and Ken jumped up and shot apart as if electrocuted.
"You were holding hands!!!" Julie squealed, as she leapt out of the bus, raced over to Ken, and bowled right into him with a huge hug. She then turned and ran into Tim as well, hugging him too.
"Holding hands!!!" she shouted again, then turning to the bus, "THEY WERE HOLDING HANDS!!!" she shouted at the other students who were all looking out the windows, wide-eyed. "I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU THEY WERE IN LOVE! I JUST KNEW IT! I TOLD YOU SO!!"
"It's just one date," Tim whispered in Ken's ear, as the bus drove away and Julie literally ran circles around them, screaming with delight at the top of her lungs.
Ken looked into Tim's eyes, feeling trapped.
"I'll pick you up at five?" Tim asked, his eyes arched and questioning.
"Okay," Ken said tremulously, trying to smile.
"What have I done?" Ken berated himself over and over again over the next few days. "Why did I say yes? Why??" When he wasn't in the bathroom throwing up to calm his nerves, he was trying to think of ways to call Tim and cancel the date.
But darn Julie! Why was she so thrilled about this?
"I guess she's at that age where she's learning about mommies and daddies," Tina hypothesized as she looked over construction plans. "I think it's kind of cute, actually."
Julie could talk of little else.
"What are you going to wear?" she asked. "Will it be beautiful? I bet it will be beautiful. You'll look like a princess!"
Hardly, thought Ken. After all, he only had four outfits. Three were simple jumpers for taking care of children, and the last was too business-like to be good for going out.
Ken walked over and picked up the phone to cancel, but somehow he couldn't force his fingers to punch the buttons. Frustrated, he slammed it back down.
"You and Tim are going to go out on a date, and then you'll fall in love, and then you'll get married, and then you'll have children, and then I'll have someone to play with!"
"Julie!" Ken said, exasperated beyond belief. "I barely know him! How can you be saying all these things?"
Not that I'm much better, Ken realized, remembering his arguments to Tim earlier - all about having to go back to England and breaking peoples hearts. 'Tim is right,' Ken realized. 'It's just one date.'
But it grated irritatingly against Ken's entire vision of himself. His entire life had been predicated on flying under the radar. Being inconspicuous, not being noticed, not standing out as being special. Fitting in. "Maybe that way, people won't look at me closely, and then they won't be able to see what a terrible, messed-up person I am," he thought to himself.
"Maybe I can go with a sack over my head," Ken thought sourly. "Wouldn't that be attractive?"
Meanwhile, the renovation plans hurtled forth at full speed. Ken watched as Tina turned into a completely different person, energetic and focused.
"This is the first time I've seen you smile," Ken said after hearing about the latest plans from Tina.
"I feel so... I don't know. So alive!" Tina said, her eyes flashing. "I just hope that Brian likes it..."
During the day, the house was swarmed with contractors. Demolition had started and there was lots of measuring to do, drawings and plans to be created, and hundreds of decisions to make.
With Tina spending all her time on the renovations, it was all Ken could do to stay out of the way, keep Julie out of trouble, and keep Michael clean and fed. Because of the noise and dust, He found himself spending a lot of time in the park with the children.
Sitting in the park, gently rocking Michael back and forth, and watching Julie collecting leaves, Ken realized something.
"I like this job," he said, smiling to himself.
"But what am I going to do about Tim???"
Ken picked up the telephone, and started dialing Tim's number.
At the last second he checked his watch. 10:12 pm.
"Bloody, hell," he cursed, hanging up the phone. After 10 pm. It was too late to call. Ken would have to call him in the morning.
'What am I going to do??' Ken fretted to himself. "What am I going to do??"
Ken was alone. The date was now just two days away.
"What if Tim finds out who I really am?" Ken worried. "For sure he's going to tell Tina and Brian, and then I'll get thrown out!" Just the thought was enough to cause his eyes to get misty. Damn it! "Why did I have to agree to this bloody date!"
"Oh shit," a new thought crossed Ken's mind. "What if they call the police! What if I get arrested! Can you imagine how this would look in the papers? 'Transvestite, fugitive English Nanny sex offender arrested and charged with fraud!'"
Suddenly, Ken started to hyperventilate. Images of courtrooms, death threats, photographers, and jail cells flashed through his head.
"Oh shit..."
Ken clutched at his chest. "Oh no..."
A wave of vertigo and nausea overwhelmed him. Ken stumbled, and then collapsed to the floor, gasping, frantic, his heart racing.
"What is wrong with me???" he cried out, as the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. "Stop it, stop it, stopitstopitstopit!" he stamped his foot in frustration, trying to get control of his body back. What am I going to do about the children? What if I collapse and there's no one to take care of them??
For the first time in America, Ken felt truly and completely alone. Tina was out. Brian was away on business. The children were asleep, and he was completely isolated in this horrible, alien country. Should he call a doctor? Which one? Go to the hospital? But then they'd discover he was a man for sure! God damn bloody...
"Miss Cabrini!" The thought came out of nowhere.
Frantically, he scanned the numbers on the icebox. There it was. He punched the numbers as fast as he could, his hands shaking.
"Yes?"
"Miss Cabrini!" Ken blubbered.
"Who is this?"
"This is Ken.... I mean... *KATHY*, this is Kathy!"
"Oh, Kathy, so nice to hear from you... Wait!! are you okay? What's the matter??"
"Please, I'm... Something’s wrong! I think I'm having a heart attack!" Ken cried out. "My heart is racing, I'm dizzy, I can't breathe... But I can't! Not now! The children are upstairs, and I can't..."
"Where's Mrs. Johnson??"
"She's out... with the architects, I think. I don't know where..."
"Hang on, Kathy, I'll be there right away."
Sarah Cabrini's car screeched to a halt in the driveway. Grabbing her bags, she hurried into the house.
"Oh, goodness..." Sara looked around, stunned by the construction work. All of the wallboard was gone and the downstairs looked like a forest of wooden studs.
"Kathy?" she called out, her voice echoing through rooms.
"I'm over here, in the kitchen," a pitiful voice called out.
Sarah followed the voice, stepping right through what just yesterday had been solid walls, and worked her way to the kitchen.
She quickly went over to the table where Ken sat, his head down between his knees.
"Kathy, you poor thing!" Sarah placed the two bags on the table.
"I can't seem to... I'm just... it's the dizziness," Ken explained. "What's happening to me?"
From her purse, Sarah pulled out a jar of pills.
"Take one of these," Sarah handed Ken a small white pill and fetched a glass of water from the sink.
"What is it?" Ken asked as he washed it down.
"It's Xanax, a mild sedative. Kathy, you are having a panic attack."
"A panic attack!" Ken's eyes went wide. "Are you sure??"
"Yes, I'm sure. You're much too young to be having a heart attack. And racing heart? Dizzy? Do you feel your chest tightening up?"
"Yes!"
Sarah gently stroked Ken's back. "That's a panic attack, dear. Unfortunately, I get them all the time. Lots of women do."
"It's not a heart attack? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Oh, thank god."
"Keep drinking," Sarah prompted. "I also think you're dehydrated."
Ken looked at her. "I can't be. I just had dinner."
"And then did you purge yourself?"
"I... ah..." Ken stammered, "no... I mean, of course not."
"Kathy, please. I *know*. You don't think it's a problem, but it *is*. Now here," Sarah opened up a paper bag rummaged around, and pulled out two milkshakes and four cheeseburgers. "You need to eat."
Ken looked at the food. "I'm not hungry," he said.
"You *are*. Here, just take two sips of the milkshake and two bites of the burger. For me. Please?"
"Okay..." Ken picked up the milkshake and took a sip. It was good.
The front door closed. "I'm back!" Tina called out.
"We're in the kitchen!" Sarah called back.
"Sarah! What are you doing here?" Tina asked, giving Sarah a quick hug. "Not that it's not nice to see you..."
"It's Kathy," Sarah explained. "She's had a panic attack."
"Kathy!" Tina exclaimed, rushing to his side, "Why didn't you call me? Don't you have my cell number? You poor thing!"
"I... I guess I didn't want to disturb you."
"Please, for everything you've done for this family! What's the matter? Are you worried about something?"
"I dunno, really," Ken took another sip of milkshake and two more bites of cheeseburger. "I was just in the kitchen cleaning up, and then I thought about Tim..."
Suddenly, Ken started to feel nauseous and hyperventilate.
"Tim?" Sarah asked. "Who is that?"
"No... I... It can't be... I mean..." Ken held a hand to his chest. His heart was racing. "No, darn it! Not again..."
"She's going on a date with a boy down the street," Tina explained to Sarah. "Is it your date? Is that's what's bothering you?"
Feeling overwhelmed, Ken's eyes welled over with tears. "Yes!" he cried out. "There's no way I can go!"
"Why not?" Tina asked.
"Because! I've never been on a date with a boy before!"
Both Sarah and Tina looked at him, stunned into silence.
"WHAT??" Sarah finally blurted out, incredulous. "You're, what, eighteen, and you've never been on a date before??"
"Nooo!" Ken wailed. "Of course not! I look horrible! My body is horrible!" Ken was crying in earnest now. "I'm a... I'm just so ugly! Why would anyone want to date me? I look terrible and I have nothing to wear!!"
Now this was something that *all* women understood. Tina and Sarah smothered Ken with hugs and Tina brought out a big box of tissues.
"You know," Tina said, thinking, "I may have some things upstairs that might look good on you."
"Excellent!" said Sarah. "You go and look, and we'll be up in a minute. Eat!" she commanded, pointing at the second cheeseburger.
Ken wiped his eyes and took another sip from his milkshake. It was empty! Sarah gave him a second one: strawberry.
"I think this is going to work!" Tina called from upstairs, excited. "Come on up!"
And so, gathering up the remaining food, Ken and Sarah went upstairs to Tina and Brian's bedroom.
"Cool!" Sarah said, admiring the octagonal bedroom, situated in the second story of the tower.
"Now, here's what I've got," Tina said, warming to her task.
Tina had so many clothes! Not only the clothes in her closet, but boxes and boxes of dresses and skirts and blouses and suits and jackets and on and on.
"How about this?" Tina pulled out a silk halter dress with a plunging neckline.
"Ooh! How cute!" Sarah enthused.
"Too low-cut, please ladies! It's only a first date! We're just friends, not lovers!" Ken blushed.
"Well, not yet!" Tina said, grinning wickedly.
"Tina!!" Ken said, truly shocked.
"Well, why not Kathy?" she shot back. "After all, he's handsome, tall, young, from a good family..."
"... and well hung I bet!" Sarah teased.
"Please stop!" Ken said, his face beet red, but enjoying the teasing none-the-less.
And if that wasn't bad enough, Ken had to insist on dressing in the closet. After all, he had to hide his falsies. And that way, anything too revealing he could reject without showing them.
"What?" Sarah asked. "We're all just women here! Please, there's nothing to be shy about."
"Please... no... I just can't... I..." Ken stammered.
"Hush Sarah," Tina waved her aside. "If Kathy wants to dress in private, well, they do things differently in Britain. They're more reserved there." She pushed Ken into her walk-in closet to change. "Go ahead honey, I understand."
Ken had never felt more pampered and appreciated. He tried on shirt dresses, sweater dresses, skirts with bolero jackets, little black dresses, one hideous pumpkin orange bridesmaid dress (causing no end of giggling), short mini skirts, flowing shifts, and many other things Ken couldn't even exactly name, but all of them gorgeous. For every outfit, Sarah and Tina would exclaim how thin and beautiful he was!
"Almost too thin," Tina said, a bit jealously.
"Definitely too thin," Sarah agreed, with a knowing stare at Ken. "But we're working on that, right, Kathy?"
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to put on a pound or two..." Ken said, tentatively.
"Or five or ten!" Tina said, confidently. "Now, go try on this evening gown."
"But, this is way too much!" Ken cried out. "It's just a simple date. And it's already after midnight! Don't you have to get to bed?"
"You don't worry about us," Sarah said. "I haven't had this much fun in years."
"Try it on!" Tina thrust the gown in his arms and pointed to the closet.
"But..."
"Go!"
Ken reluctantly went into the closet and shut the door. 'What was Tina thinking??' he wondered.
"I can't wear this!" he called out through the door. "It's strapless!"
"In the back," Tina advised, "center drawer, you should find some strapless bras."
Ken rummaged through the drawer, amazed at the wide variety of colors and styles, until he finally found a strapless one at the bottom. Putting it around his chest, he fastened the hooks as tight as possible in front before turning it around and lifting it into place.
"This might work..." Ken muttered to himself as he slipped in his falsies.
Stepping into the gown, Ken pulled it up his body. Holding it in place, he tried to reach the zipper in back.
"Uh... I can't, I mean..." Ken called out.
Suddenly, the door opened and Sarah stepped in. She turned Ken away from her and efficiently zipped him up, closing the gown about his torso. Ken nervously adjusted his breasts and pulled up the neck line. Were his fake breasts showing?? Turning him back around, Sarah smoothed out the bodice.
"Fabulous!" Sarah said, swinging the door wide open and pushing Ken out into the bedroom.
"Whoah," Tina said, followed by a low wolf whistle. "Take a look!" She turned Ken towards the full-length mirror.
Ken looked at himself. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. It was made from a brilliant teal taffeta with a pleated bodice, a long classic A-Line skirt lined on the inside with tulle. The neck-line was a wide, beaded stripe which went straight across Ken's upper chest.
"Wait!" Tina said, "try this." She placed a wrap around his shoulders. "Like this," she demonstrated, pulling his hands together and then letting the wrap fall off his shoulders so that it elegantly draped down behind his back.
"Oh, my gosh..." Ken said. Ken looked at himself in the mirror, his shoulder-length hair gently draped around his shoulders, his elegant hands clasped gracefully together in front, his exposed shoulders bare...
"I'm... I'm a..."
Sarah kissed him on the cheek. "You're beautiful, Kathy."
Ken's eyes welled up with tears of joy. "I'm a beautiful... woman," he whispered.
But of course Ken couldn't wear a long evening gown just to go out on a simple dinner date. Such a gown would only be appropriate for fancy black-tie events. So in the end, they chose the black crewneck jersey dress made of some amazing silky fabric. The bodice had this fun pleating which emphasized his bosoms, and the Empire waist looked amazing on his figure. It was flirty and fun.
Ken looked at the label. "Oh my god," he said, shocked. "It's Versace! Tina! I can't wear this!"
"Shush!" Tina said. "Of course you can! It's perfect."
"You look amazing," Sarah chimed in. "Wear this, and I guarantee you, Tim will not stand a chance."
"But, it's only one date..." Ken said, worried. "I mean... I don't want..."
But the ladies wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Oh my goodness," Kathy sighed, "everything was sooo wonderful, Tim! Magical. I don't want this night to ever end. The dinner... the show... mmmmmm...." Ken purred contentedly.
Tim and Kathy were back from their date, holding hands, standing on the front walkway of the Johnson's house.
"Well..." Tim looked around, "maybe we could just sit and chat for a while?"
Kathy looked at him. "Chat? But... I'm getting a bit chilled."
"Here," Tim took off his black blazer and placed it around Ken's shoulders.
"Mmmmm," Ken said, feeling Tim's body warmth from the jacket. "Thank you."
Tim guided Ken over to the porch swing.
"Oh!" Ken said, feeling Tim slip his arm around Ken's shoulders.
Tim pulled Ken in closer to snuggle. "So, tell me, Kathy, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
"What do I want to be?" Ken relaxed a bit and let his head fall back onto Tim's shoulder. "You know, I never really thought about it. I have no idea, really. I know that I like taking care of children..."
"Really?" Tim said. "Do you want to have children of your own, someday?"
"Well, sure," Ken said, not thinking too much. "But I doubt that it will ever happen."
"Why not?" Tim asked.
"Uh..." Ken tensed up, "oh... I don't know. I just doubt anyone would ever want to have children with me... I guess...."
"Are you crazy?" Tim said, turning Ken's face so they could look at each other. "I mean, my god, you are the most beautiful... I mean... you're cute, you're funny, you like children, you're incredibly smart, and you make everyone around you feel good."
"Oh please," Ken blushed at the compliments.
"No, seriously," Tim leaned in a bit closer.
Ken looked up a Tim. Was he...?
"I mean, why wouldn't anyone..." Tim whispered, getting even closer, "... want to be with you..." their foreheads were touching, "...and have children with you..." their lips were touching...
"Oh, Tim!" Ken said, turning his head slightly to avoid the kiss and pulling Tim into a hug. "You are the sweetest bloke that I have ever known."
WHAT AM I DOING? Ken thought furiously to himself. I ALMOST KISSED HIM! WHAT AM I DOING??
"But seriously," Tim said, pulling back so they were facing each other again. "Do you plan on going to college after you're done being an Au Pair?"
"I guess so, I just don't know what I'd do."
"What about architecture?"
"Architecture? Why would you suggest that?"
"I don't know. I guess, just the way you were talking about the renovations at dinner. You really seem to like it. And you really love this old building. How's your math?"
"Pretty good, I guess..."
"Well, there you go. A love of old buildings and good math skills. Sounds like architect to me."
"Architect," Ken mused to himself. "My friend, I mean, my Dad, I mean... my adopted Dad, friend of the family, really..." Ken sighed, trying to figure out how to describe Sandra, "he's an architecture critic in England... Do you really think I could?"
Ken looked up at Tim and somehow their foreheads were touching again.
"Of course you could," Tim said, softly. "You're smart, you're organized, and you see how things should be. You're..." Tim leaned in closer, their noses were touching, "...amazing."
What am I going to do? Ken mind was whirling, his eyes wide.
"Uh..." Ken whispered.
"Yes?" Tim whispered back, his breath gently stroking Ken's cheek.
Their lips brushed against each other.
"Oh... no... please..." Ken struggled, but before he knew it, they were kissing. And then the rest of the world just fell away - all his worries, all his concerns, everything forgotten as Ken's entire being became caught up in this one kiss.
'What am I doing??' Ken thought frantically to himself.
But then, after another second he couldn't help himself. Ken opened his mouth slightly and began kissing back in earnest.
And just at that moment, something clicked. Something that Ken had been subconsciously resisting all his life was set free. Ken finally knew who he really was.
He was Kathy now, an independent, self aware, beautiful young woman of his own.
And now, Kathy wanted more. *She* reached an arm up, put it around Tim's neck, and brought him in for an even closer kiss, her hand on the back of his head. Tim's eyes opened in surprise, but then surrendered to his newly assertive date.
And they kissed and kissed and Kathy thought it had to be the most wonderful thing in the world.
"What am I going to do about Tim?"
Kathy stomped back and forth across the back yard, working out her frustrations by aggressively cleaning out the accumulated brush and trimming back the trees around the pool and patio.
"I can't be in love with him," she reasoned to herself. "I just can't! One date... I mean, it was just one date!"
She picked up a pair of hedge clippers and started to attack the bushes which bordered the pool deck.
"Life just isn't fair! Why did he have show up now?? Why couldn't I have met him in England? What am I going to do?"
Kathy stopped for a moment.
"Why?" she said softly, wiping away her tears, "why'd it have to be so perfect?"
"Are you okay?"
Kathy jumped and twirled around, clippers armed and ready.
"Woah!" Tim stepped back, narrowly avoiding evisceration, holding up his hands. "I'll go quietly! I swear!"
"Oh Tim!" Kathy said, breaking out into fresh tears.
"What's the matter?" Tim held her in a warm embrace. "Why are you crying?"
"'Cause...." Kathy said, her words coming out between sobs, "I... had... such a good time last night."
"Well... but that's a good thing, right?" Tim asked, confused in the way that men have been confused for generations.
"NO! It's not!" Kathy said, sharply before breaking out into fresh tears. "I'm... I can't... I mean... It's just all wrong!!"
"Hush, there, hush," Tim said, stroking her arm. "I know you're worried about going back to the U.K. and all..."
"Yes..."
"... but all I can say is that I really, *really* like you."
"Really??" Kathy looked up into Tim's eyes.
"Yes, really. And I think that if two people really, really like each other... well, I just don't think there is any problem too big to solve."
"Oh, Tim!" Kathy broke out into fresh sobs.
"Oh, my darling Kathy... please, don't..."
Tim planted small kisses on Kathy's head as she cried.
But through her tears, all Kathy could think was 'He likes me! He really, really likes me!'
And then her head just automatically turned towards Tim and sought out his lips...
... and they were kissing again, and it was heaven. Kathy's sobbing subsided as she lost herself in the kiss, feeling Tim's arms around her, lifting her arms to hold him tighter, letting the warmth of the kiss create a little safe bubble around them.
"Tim..." she started, backing away suddenly, "I... I have to tell you something..."
"Of course," Tim said looking at her with affection.
"It's just that... I mean... I'm... or rather, I'm not..."
"KATHY!!!!!"
Kathy and Tim jerked apart as Julie raced towards them.
"Mom said I could help you with the backyard. Can I help? Can I? Can I? Can I?"
"Of course you can, Julie!"
Jolted back to reality, Kathy thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't gone through with her confession. What was I doing? Kathy thought to herself.
"Okay, everyone," she continued, out loud. "We need to get this yard back into shape. The pool men are going to be here on Monday to start work. So, let's sweep the deck, cut back those bushes, and clear out that brush over there..."
The next few weeks went by in a blur. The renovations continued at a break-neck pace, with the inevitable problems encountered along the way. First, there was the sagging beam.
"Yeah, after years of punching holes in it to run water and electrical, this one's not gonna last much longer," Marc announced.
So they had to take a week to expose the old beam, jack everything up, and install a new one.
Then there was the issue of the missing trim.
"The problem is," said David, the architect, "we just don't have pictures of the inside. Tons of pictures of the outside, but really we don't know how the original architects would have finished the inside trim."
So, Tina spent hours trying to locate pictures of the interiors of period houses so they might have an idea of what to do.
"If only there was some... you know, 'Home and Garden' spread or something, you know?" Tina said.
"Wait! What did you just say?" Kathy looked up from where she was playing 'Chutes and Ladders' with Julie.
"You know, a 'Home and Garden' spread?"
A huge smile crossed Kathy's face. "Come with me!"
And so all three girls, Julie included, went to the second story, where Kathy led them into Brian's closet.
"Kathy??" Tina asked, surprised. "Have you been snooping?"
"Remember that day I was trapped while playing hide-and-go-seek with Julie?"
"Tag! You're it!" Julie said, whapping Kathy on the thigh.
"Well, I was looking for something, you know, like a piece of cardboard, that might open the door, when I ran across these."
Kathy opened the box in the back and uncovered the magazines.
"Architectural Digest, 1952," whispered Tina.
Picking up the magazine gingerly, she opened it up to the table of contents.
"Oh my god, look at this!" she said, excitedly. " 'Shingle Style Homes, the new standard for American Architecture by Vincent Scully'"
They opened it up to page 32 and there it was, the Johnson home in all its glory.
"Says here it was built in 1897," Tina said. "Look! Pictures of the living room! Oh my god, Kathy! This is perfect! Thank you!"
Just then, Tina's cell phone rang.
"It's Brian," she said nodding towards Julie.
"Of course!" Kathy said. "Julie!" she called out, "let's go the park, shall we?"
'What the hell is going on?' Brian wondered, hanging up his cell.
Tina was acting weird, there was no way around it. Normally, he would call, they would discuss the events of the day, he might say 'hello' to Julie, and then that was that.
But when was the last time he had talked to Julie? Hmmmm.... Brian thought back. It had been a couple of weeks, at least. Was something wrong?
But if there had been something wrong with Julie, Brian would have heard it in Tina's voice. Instead he had heard something else... Nervousness? Fear? and... excitement?
Something was definitely up, and Brian began to worry.
"Maybe I should try and get home early..."
"How was Ballet tonight?" Tina asked, pulling out a dress from her closet and holding up to Kathy.
The two were picking out a dress for Kathy to wear to the post-ballet concert party. Tina had offered to hold the party in her new (nearly) renovated home, and Sarah had gratefully accepted.
"It was wonderful!" Kathy enthused. "We finally got to dance in costumes and the girls are *so* cute."
"Well, Julie certainly loves hers," Tina mused, pulling out a skirt, a sweater dress, and a couple of blouses.
Ken took the dress into the bathroom to change.
Julie had raced around the house about a dozen times showing off her ballet costume. She had refused to take it off until Kathy had finally convinced her that it would get ruined if she slept in it.
"Well, well!" Tina whistled when Kathy emerged, dressed. "Not bad at all. You look good in a sweater dress. Look at those curves, I bet you just drive Tim wild."
Kathy blushed as Tina fussed with the drape of the skirt. Things with Tim had been going very well. Far too well, in fact. Kathy still had not had the courage to tell him her secret, and he hadn't pressed her for information. Thank god things hadn't progressed beyond kissing and heavy petting.
Tina sent Kathy to change into a second dress.
"How's Sarah?" Tina called out.
"Oh, blimey, she's almost completely mad! She's only had 7 hours of sleep all week!" Kathy stepped out with the next dress.
"Nope, not this one," Tina said. "Too frumpy for such a cutie like you, here try this."
Kathy stepped back into the bathroom.
"Well, at least the recital's tomorrow," Tina said. "Then hopefully her life will get back to normal."
Kathy stepped out.
"Woah..." Tina said. "That's the one."
"I can't wear this!" Kathy said, looking at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a mini skirt with a V-Neck stripped sweater.
"Why not?"
"It's... I mean... it's way too short!" Kathy tugged at the hem, feeling embarrassed to be so exposed.
"Nonsense!" Tina said, brushing her concerns away. "It looks fabulous on you. And Tim's eyes will just bug out! I'm going to tell him you chose it just for him."
"You wouldn't!" Kathy gasped.
"Yes I would!" Tina laughed, "Now hush, while I get you some boots to go with."
Kathy looked at herself in the mirror and somehow just couldn't stop grinning.
"Now Brian, go hug your Pop-Pop."
Brian, just three and a half years old, toddled over the threshold and into the enormous wood house with the noble, pungent, smell of varnish and tobacco. He looked up, eyes wide and amazed at the elegant staircase, intricate moldings, and enormous sliding doors between the living room and dining room. He imagined himself as a bird, flying through the spacious rooms, swooping through the doorways and under furniture.
"There's my grandson!" he heard from above. Without warning, strong hands scooped him up and hugged him close. Brian nuzzled his face into his grandfather's sweater, smelling wonderfully of pipe smoke and mothballs.
"Brian?"
Brian looked over at his grandmother. The shape of her face was so elegant, framed by silver hair as she took another sip of bourbon, leaving a red lipstick smear on the Waterford crystal tumbler.
"Brian?"
Brian closed his eyes and just enjoyed his grandfather's embrace, never wanting it to end. His grandfather hugged him closer, and kissed the top of his head. "Our family future lies in your hands," he said gently.
"Brian, are you okay?" Tina shook him gently.
Brian opened his eyes and saw his wife kneeling beside him, a worried expression on her face.
"I'm fine..." he said, a little unsteadily.
"Are you sure?"
Brian looked at the newly remodeled house, unable to think coherently. He was sitting at the front door, where he had sunk to the floor, in shock. "What... how... the house???" he sputtered, barely able to speak, much less think.
"Oh Brian! I'm so sorry!" Tina blurted out, her carefully rehearsed speech completely forgotten. "I just... when Kathy found out..."
"Kathy?"
"Yes! She was talking to Marc LaRossa, he was the one who added all these walls on the first floor for your grandfather when he was sick. Well, not him, his father, really... well, he helped... I mean..."
"Tina," Brian tried cut her off.
"Look, we can totally put the walls back. Marc said it wouldn't be a problem..."
"Tina!"
"... but I thought, you know, to restore the house back to the way it was originally, and then Kathy...
"Tina!"
"... she found an old 'Architectural Digest'...."
"Tina! It's a wonderful!"
"... and it had pictures, you know, original pictures..." Tina stopped. "Wait, what did you say?"
"I said, it's wonderful!"
"What?? Really??" Tina's face lit up with joy. "Do you really mean it?"
"Yes! Oh my gosh, I stepped into the front door, and I was overcome with memories from when I was a boy and would go to visit my grandparents. It looks exactly like it did then. And... I..." Brian started to tear up, "I mean, it's just like I remember."
Tina gathered Brian into a warm hug, tears flowing. "Oh Brian! I'm so happy! I can't tell you!"
"DAAAADDY!!" Julie squealed, racing over to her father and running full force into him. Brian picked up his daughter and swung her overhead.
"Mr. Johnson!" Kathy exclaimed, putting down her broom. Tim looked up from where he was stringing Christmas lights for the party.
"So, I understand it's all your fault," Brian said, flatly.
"Wha... what is?" Kathy asked, taking a step back.
"The house. It was your idea."
"I..." Kathy looked over to Tina, who looked to be smirking. "I mean... I... I suppose..."
"Well, then, I guess I have you to thank!" Brian broke into a wide grin. "For the best homecoming I have ever had!"
"You like it!" Kathy exclaimed, relieved.
"Yes! It's amazing! The details, the trim, the gorgeous wood floors. I can't believe it! It's just like I remembered from when I was a boy. How will I ever thank you!"
"It was Tina who did all the work. You should have seen all the late nights she put in!" Kathy demurred.
"Well, it was a joint effort, that's for sure," Tina agreed.
Tina walked over to Kathy and gave her a warm hug. "But without your strength and encouragement, I would never have had the courage to attempt it. Thank you. You're really a member of the family now."
Kathy smiled and clenched her eyes tight in joy as she returned the hug. "This moment," she said softly to herself, "if only I could live in this moment forever."
"Hey, isn't there a recital tonight?" Tim asked. "Don't you girls have some dancing to do?"
"Pardon me, there!"
"Yes?" Tim looked up to find a somewhat rumpled older gentleman standing before him, a tweed driving cap in his hand and holding a small suitcase.
"Would you be so kind as to tell me where the Johnsons live?" His accent was clearly British and had a familiar ring to it.
"Oh," Tim said, "that's their house next door. But they're not there right now, they've gone to a ballet recital."
"Would you happen to know if they had a young English boy named Ken with them?"
"Uh... no. They do have an English girl named Kathy, though. She's their Au Pair."
"Kathy?" The man's eyes grew narrow.
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"He's... I mean she's my... uh... daughter."
"Really! You're Mr. Shore??" Tim lit up, all smiles. "I'm Tim! It's such a pleasure to meet you! Has Kathy told you about me?"
Mr. Henry Shore was taken aback at Tim's enthusiasm. "No... she hasn't. Why should she?" he asked.
"Well, uh," Tim hesitated, "I guess, because, well I'm kind-of her boyfriend."
Henry just stared at Tim. "You are, are you?"
"Uh, yeah. I guess," Tim faltered under the penetrating glare of the Englishman. "Say, would you like a ride to the recital?" he asked, quickly changing the topic. "Kathy will be dancing and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it!"
"Places! Places everyone!" Sarah called out, clapping her hands.
"Kathy! I'm so nervous!" Julie squealed, grabbing Kathy around the waist in a fierce hug.
"There there," Kathy comforted her, "it will be great! You are a wonderful dancer, now get to your place and get in position!"
Julie raced across the stage and stood with the other children, waiting their entrance.
As the music started, Kathy danced out, her long Nun's habit flowing around her. She twirled and interleaved with three of the other mothers, as Sarah herself danced out to be the mother superior.
"This is fun!" thought Kathy to herself, enjoying the feeling of her body as it swept through the air. Since starting dance lessons, she had become much more graceful and her motions had become so much more confident, fluid, and feminine. "Most improved," Sarah had said.
Finally, the opening dance finished, and Kathy was able to enjoy the applause, lined up with the other Nuns behind Sarah. Smiling, she looked out over the enthusiastic audience, looking for Tina, Tim, and Brian. Finally she located them and smiled.
But as she followed the other nuns off stage, a tickling at the edge of her brain sensed that something was wrong.
But now it was Julie's turn! Kathy watched, proud as the children danced out with Maria, learning their "Do Re Mi's", all dressed in proper, heavy children's clothes of the 1930's. Julie couldn't stop smiling as she marched with the other children behind Maria, over and across the stage, until they finally broke out dancing.
It wasn't until early in Act II that Kathy finally got a chance to look out over the audience again. As she danced the simple processional she located and smiled at Tim again, who smiled back, delighted.
But still, something was wrong. What was it?
Kathy looked back at Tim...
... and then slipped and fell to the ground. It couldn't be, could it??
"Kathy, are you okay?" Sarah whispered urgently to her, helping her up.
"I'm fine," Kathy said, just able to get into her closing position before the music ended. Looking out over the audience, Kathy locked eyes with the man sitting next to Tim and glaring back at her.
It was Mr. Henry Shore. Kathy's father.
Kathy suddenly felt herself slipping backwards in time, as her awful, violent past rose up. Suddenly, all her pretensions were stripped away, revealing the lonely, naked, gawky boy named Ken underneath.
The gawky boy who would never fit in anywhere. Not ever.
"How did he find me?" Ken anguished, tears dripping on the floor, "How did he get here???"
"You okay?" one of the other nuns asked him.
"I... I need to go to the bathroom."
"Of course! We're not on again until the end..." the nun said after him, as Ken raced into the high school hallway behind the stage.
Stopping at the changing room to get his backpack, Ken hesitated, but then reached into Tina's handbag, taking her car keys.
"Please forgive me, Tina..." Ken said with gulp, as he left the building still dressed in his nun's habit.
"What am I going to do? What am I going to doooo?" Ken wailed, as he desperately fumbled with the keys at the front door.
Finally inside, Ken ran up stairs and began frantically tossing everything he could into his suitcase.
"Bloody 'ell!" he spat out through clenched teeth. "Bloody 'ell! Why'd he have to show up?? Couldn't he have just left me the fuck alone??"
Ken reached for the Versace Crewneck jersey dress and hesitated. It was the dress he wore on his first date with Tim.
Ken sat down on the bed, holding the dress. He thought of Tina, Tim, Julie, Brian, Sarah, Marc, and Michael - everyone he had betrayed with his stupid, selfish stunt.
Finally, he hung the dress back up on the hanger and completed packing the rest of his stuff.
Downstairs in the Kitchen, Tim tried to quickly write out a note for the Johnsons.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," Ken wrote, his eyes welling over again. "Please forgive me." And then "I love you all."
Ken signed it and placed it on the counter.
"Kathy!" Someone called from the foyer.
"Shit!" Ken muttered, looking around desperately for an exit.
Brian and Tina rushed up to Ken, both talking at once. "Are you okay? What's the matter? Why did you leave? Is that man really your father? Is it true what he said? Are you really... a boy?"
"STOP!!" Ken cried, hiding his eyes. "I'm just... I'm just so sorry! Please, I have to go!"
Brian grabbed Ken's arm in a vice-like grip and pulled him roughly back. "Stop right there," Brian said in measured tones. "Tell us the truth. Who are you?"
"I..."
"Brian!" Tina said, shocked. "Stop that! You're hurting him!"
"Stay back, Tina," Brian spat out. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Are you Ken? Or Kathy?"
"I... please..." Ken said between choking sobs, hesitating, looking at the ground, in shock.
"I'm Ken," he finally said, his heart sinking.
"KAAATHYYYY!!" Julie banged open the door, still dressed in her ballet costume. She raced right into Ken, the force of her collision knocking him back against the counter and out of Brian's grasp.
"WHAT'S WRONG??" Julie screamed hysterically. "Are you leaving?? Don't you love me anymore? What did I do wrong? Please don't go!!!"
"Julie!" Ken knelt down next to her, his heart breaking at all the suffering he had caused. "Please, don't cry! Please, please, please don't cry! Of course I love you! It's just that... I think it's best if I go."
"Noooo!!!" she screamed.
Brian reached out and pulled Julie away.
Julie turned on her father. "It's your fault! Isn't it!! You're sending Kathy away, aren't you! I HATE YOU!"
"Julie," Brian said, trying to be firm. "It just that... Well, this may not be the right place for Kathy right now."
"Why not?" Tina said, her voice soft and calm.
Instantly, Julie's screams stopped.
"What?" asked Brian.
"I think Ken... I mean Kathy... should stay."
"But he's... I mean she's a..." Brian stumbled.
"A what? An amazing Au Pair? The older sister that Julie never had? A better than average amateur ballet dancer? The person who saved our marriage?"
Brian looked at his wife, dumbstruck.
"You can't be serious," he said finally.
Tina walked over to Ken and held him firmly to her side. Taking her cue, Julie rushed over and held on to Ken as well.
"I have never been more serious. Kathy gave me my self respect back. She's the missing piece that makes our family work." Tina looked directly into Ken's eyes. "You're my best friend, and I love you."
"I love you too!" Ken sobbed.
"I LOVE YOU TOO!" Julie shouted.
"But... but..." Brian stuttered.
"Brian!" Tina said, with authority. "You asked before 'how can I ever thank you'. Do you remember?"
"Yes..."
For some reason, just then, Brian glanced over to his briefcase sitting on the kitchen countertop. He thought back his hotel room (was it just yesterday?) which had been littered with organizational charts from the companies he was studying.
"Customer, Operations, and Innovation..." he muttered to himself. "Customer, Operations, Innovation..." And just then, he saw the pieces of the chart fall into place. The organization balanced, and whole. It was a thing of beauty.
"Brian?" asked Tina.
"Of course Kathy is staying," Brian said, suddenly. "She has to!"
"I don't know what kind of hold you have over these people."
"Dad..." Ken sighed.
"And now they want you to stay? Are they nutters? Having a pervert fag like you in the same house as their four year old daughter?"
"I am not a pervert..."
"But what else should I expect from Americans? No respect for position, that's what I say. No respect for a person's proper place in life."
"They're good people, Dad."
"Hah," Henry snorted. "If you say so. Well, get your stuff. We're going home."
"No."
"What?"
"I'm not going, I'm staying."
"I didn't fly all the bloody way across the bloody Atlantic ocean to hear you talk this way. Get your stuff, we're going."
"I'm not, and you can't make me."
"Oh, I can't? We'll see about that. Suppose I called the police? How about immigration? I bet they'll be pretty interested in how you smuggled yourself into the country on a stolen passport."
Ken felt his nerve slipping. "You... you wouldn't do that, would you?"
Mr. Shore sat for a long time, just staring at Ken, his face solid.
"I guess not," he said, finally. "Fine. If you're going to stay, then stay. Good riddance. But don't come crying back home when these people see you for who you really are."
"They already see me for who I really am."
"Right," Mr. Shore snorted again. "And would you please give your mother a call? She's been hysterical since the day you left. You should be ashamed for how you've treated her."
"Oh! Of course I'll call her! I promise, right away."
"Fine."
After they exchanged passports, Mr. Shore said his polite farewells to the Johnsons, and then accepted a ride back to the airport hotel.
"Oh, Kathy!" Tina said when he had finally left. "I'm so sorry he was so mean and intolerant! Can't he accept you for the wonderful person you are?"
"But... couldn't you tell?" Ken asked, looking at Tina, amazed. "That *was* his way of accepting me!"
"What... are you serious?"
"Yes!" Ken said, suddenly feeling as light as feather.
But Ken wasn't out of the woods yet. There was one more person he had to tell.
"Tim, we have to talk."
"Okay... out here?" Tim led Kathy out to the back patio and closed the door behind them. Muffled sounds of the party came through the glass. Most of the guests were around the TV watching a video of the recital.
Ken grabbed both of Tim's hands and took a deep breath.
"Okay, here goes..." he said.
"Wait!" Tim trotted over to the bushes, fiddled with something, and suddenly strings of Christmas lights blinked on, adding white twinkles to the warm spring evening.
"Oh!" Ken said in wonder. "They're beautiful!"
"Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?" Tim reached out and held both of Ken's hands in his.
"I..." thrown off stride, Ken took a second to gather his thoughts. "It's just that... I mean..." Tim's hands felt wonderfully soft and warm, Ken realized.
"That you were born a man?" Tim asked, gently.
"WHAT??" Ken's eyes shot wide open. "How did you know?"
Tim shrugged his shoulders. "Sarah told me," he said simply, "a few days ago. I think she's known since you first danced for her."
"Really?"
"Yeah. And so, when I was helping out with the scenery, remember? She pulled me aside and told me. I think she could tell I was getting... uh... 'attached' and wanted to warn me before my heart got broken, or yours. She said you had enough to deal with already."
"I feel just terrible!"
"Why?"
"Because! I should have had the guts to tell you when we first met. I almost did, so many times! But..."
"But what?"
"... I was too afraid. I..." Ken hesitated, "I love you," he finally said, simply, staring down at the ground, suddenly so afraid that he started shivering.
Tim tilted Ken's head back up, looked him in the eyes, and kissed him.
"Mmmmmm...." Ken sighed feeling all of the day's stress and turmoil slip off his shoulders like a cloak, sliding down his body and away, revealing the girl within.
Ken was back to being Kathy again.
"I love you too," Tim said, breaking the kiss. "As if that weren't already blatantly obvious. I mean, when I first heard the news from Sarah, I was like, 'no way!' I mean, you're so beautiful! But then it started to make sense, your attempts to warn me off at the beginning, your nervousness on our first date... everything. And then, when I sat down to think about it, I discovered something else."
"What?"
"That it just made me want you all the more."
"That's impossible."
"Apparently not. I don't know why, but it's the truth."
Unable to speak, Kathy simply melted into Tim's warm embrace and kissed him.
"YAAAAAAYYY!" Julie squealed, followed by applause!
Startled, Tim and Kathy broke their kiss and looked over. The entire party had been watching the two young lovers from behind the glass doors.
Now the glass doors opened and the young couple were surrounded by all of the party goers.
Kathy and Tim just grinned, and kissed again.
"You go, you two!" said Sarah.
"Hey, get a room!" said Brian, teasingly.
"Don't listen to him," said Tina, pulling Brian into a kiss of her own.
"They love each other! I knew it! I just knew they would fall in love!" said Julie running around in circles.
'I'm Kathy,' Kathy thought to herself with a smile, 'and at least for now, this is where I belong.'