Numeric ID: 5
Date Received: 2 APR 2004
Idea From: Emily K. Bryant
Written By: Emily K. Bryant
email to: emily2b1 at hotmail dot com


	It usually took a while before the pills kicked in and I could be
lucid for more than a few moments. Still, I felt fairly confident that
whoever was at the door would be gone before those few moments
were over and I wouldn't have to wait for the drugs to take affect.

	Making sure that I didn't overly expose myself to who ever was
out there, I tightened up the robe and checked my image in the mirror
on the wall. Still looking like the epitome of a girl that has seen better,
and healthier days I thought to myself.

	Reaching out, I grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open
and promptly leaned against the edge of the doorframe for balance.

	I knew the woman standing there on the entry. I knew her quite
well in fact. The problem was, she was not supposed to be standing
there. I was so shocked to see her that I just stood there trying not to
believe what I was seeing.

	"Excuse me miss, I was wondering if you could tell me whether
or not this is where my son Brad lives?" she politely asked me.

	"MOM!" was about all I could manage to squeak out before I
started to feel light headed.

	"Brad . . . Bradley? Is that . . . what are you. . ?" This was the last
thing I heard her say as I promptly failed to remain conscious.

	I came awake a second or two later in a slight fog with my
mother leaning over and slightly shaking me, "Honey, honey. Are you
all right? You didn't hurt yourself did you?" as she expressed her
concern.

	I quickly rolled to one side and attempted to get up. Mom
reached her hands under my arms and guided me as I stood up. She
then directed us over to the couch.

	"Mom?" my soft squeaky voice said. Damn it, this was not
helping.  "Wha . . . What are you doing here?" I asked her, avoiding
what was going to be asked of me.

"Never mind that dear," she dismissed. "Let's get you to lay down
for a bit. You look a little pale at the moment," she added as we
reached the couch.

Pale indeed. The blood had drained from my head due to the
shock of seeing her show up at my doorstep. That initial shock and my
relatively quick attempt to recover from falling down had worked to
keep much of that blood from getting back to where it belonged.
Which was probably why I passed out again.

	I awoke some time later to find myself laying on the couch,
covered with a blanket, wondering whether I just had a nightmare
about my Mom or not. I slowly sat up to take stock of my situation. I
remembered the last time I got up too quick.

	"Oh, you're awake." In a cheerful tone my mother had answered
my unspoken question. "Are you feeling better dear?" she asked as
she came to sit next to me.

	"Uh, yeah," as I thought about it, "I think so. What, what are you
doing here?" I repeated my earlier question. Still wanting to know why.

	"Well," she started. "I thought that since I hadn't heard from my
sick 'daughter' in a while, that I would come and see how 'she' was
getting on, and see if there was anything I could do for 'her'."

	My mother's continued emphasis on the gender pronouns was
glaringly pointed.

	"I huh . . . I  . . . I can explain," I said, wondering if could do so
without making myself sound ridiculous.

	To my mom's credit, she was very patient as I proceeded to fill
her in on why her son was now dressed and looking like her daughter.
She waited until I had finished telling the story before she spoke up.

	"That seems very nice of you to go through all that trouble for
your room mate." she seemed to ponder.

	"Oh, no, it wasn't any trouble at all. I was sick most of the time
and asleep in bed. So . . . not a big deal." I knew what was what, but I
wasn't sure if Mom was convinced or not.

	"Still, it seems a rather odd request to make, don't you think?
How sure are you about his interests?" she asked of me.

	It took me a moment to see where she was going but I think I
understood what she was getting at.

	"Oh, no, Mom. Jim doesn't like girls. He's gay." I added for
clarification. "He's got a boyfriend, Steve. Remember him?" I waited
for her nod of affirmation, which didn't look like it was coming. "I told
you about the two of them already, last time we spoke."

	Silence. No sign of understanding to be seen on the horizon.

	"Like I said earlier, I'm just doing this to get his dad off his back."
I explained again.

	Apparently I wasn't quite to where my Mom was yet because the
next thing she said just about caused me some minor health
problems.

	"Dear, I don't mean to be blunt, but I can't think of any better way
to put this. What I'm trying to say is this . . .You seem to have filled a
vital niche in this Jim's life very well. You, dressed in this manner, just
happen to be both the vision of a beautiful girlfriend and his gender of
preference, as it were. It seems to be a win-win opportunity for him."
She paused for a bit before asking, "Are you getting what you want out
of this relationship? Is he treating you right? Are you using
protection?"

	"WHAT!?" I couldn't believe what she was saying, so I asked her
again, "Jesus Mom, what the hell . . .?" And again, " What do mean,
what do I want?" I was floored.

	"I just don't want this boy to take advantage of my son, or
daughter if you will," she waved at my appearance, "while she is
suffering from being sick and hasn't the strength to say no or make the
proper decisions."

	"Oh! My! God! You have GOT to be kidding! Whatever gave . . . "

	"Honey," she put up a hand to stop me, "while you were asleep I
had time to look around your place and think for a bit." Although she
paused for a moment before continuing, I was not able to connect
enough rudimentary syllables together quick enough to forge a
comeback. "What I guess I'm really trying to say is . . . I still love you,
no matter what, and that I'm O.K. with your being gay and wanting to
become a woman."

	"You think WHAT? That I'm gay? That I'm doing all this 'cuz I like
guys and, and, and this is the only way to get them? That I want to be
a girl?"

	She sat there, with a look of 'Isn't it obvious' air about her as she
waved her hands about the room and at me.

	"Oh my God!" I repeated and chuckled. "You are sooo way off
base. When did I ever . . . Gay!?" I laughed at that one.

	"Christ Mom, did ya think I brought home all my girlfriends just so
we could compare notes? See if I was doin' it right?" I asked her.

	That one was funny too, and I had more.

	"Or . . . or better yet, I had them over so we could play dress up."

	I was starting to crack myself up.

	"Oh thank God they did," I whispered with my hand over my
mouth, trying to hold back a giggle. "I needed all the practice I could
get. You know, you know . . . for my BIG DEBUT!" I burst out,
laughing and throwing my arms up as I did so.

	"Oh good God Mother." I couldn't stop from laughing.

	It had started off with, what I thought, some funny jabs at my
Mom's serious blunder. These didn't please her too much. The look on
her face, so serious, so sure of herself, was too much to take. Each
time I saw it, I had to say something. Of course everything I said was
so funny, to me a least, that I ended up laughing at my own jokes. The
more I joked, the more serious and stern she got, which ended up with
me laughing even more.

	None of this was helping my sore throat or body aches by the
way. It made everything hurt all over again.

	For a brief spell I was in a vicious cycle of laughter and pain
where everything was funny, even though it hurt. Laughter at what my
Mom was implicating and then pain because laughing hurt like hell. Of
course hurting like hell reminded me of why I was hurting like hell to
begin with, and that then led to why I was dressed like I was. More
laughter. More pain.

	Somewhere along this cycle I must have swallowed wrong, or
popped a nerve, because I started coughing. My little merriment had
just come crashing down, and I hurt. My throat eventually eased up a
bit and I could finally catch some air. Drying the tears that had come
during my little episode helped me to focus on staying calm. Downing
the painkillers that Mom handed to me would hopefully allow for a
longer period of relief, once they kicked in.

	"Are we through with our fun now?", she patiently asked, with a
touch of disdain thrown in for good measure.

	"Sorry Mom," I apologized before continuing. "It's just, what you
were implying was funny." I tried not to start laughing again. "It caught
me off guard. I'm sorry. But that's not what's going on."

	She sifted her expression from mild disdain to guarded contempt.
Not much of a shift albeit. I did not, now, nor in the past, like to be on
the receiving end of this look. I'd done some fairly stupid things in my
past and had received a similar look for my efforts. Not very pleasant
experiences to be sure. I guess I needed to reassure her some more. I
needed to reassure her so that I could go crawl back into bed. I was
beginning to wear out my welcome in the land of the living.

	"Look ma', it's really as innocent as I mentioned. There's nothing
between Jim and I. I like being a guy. A guy that likes girls. I'm only
doing this," I waved my hands at my altered body parts and clothes,
"as a favor for all that he's done for me already. You know, the condo,
helping cover that tuition check. There's really nothing to this. It's only
because I was supposed to be laid up in bed, sick, that I said I'd go
through with this. The dinner thing just sort of happened because I got
confused and felt bad. I was just trying to help." The memory of how
hard it had been to stay focused on getting ready that day came to me
then.

	I realized then that my eyes had chosen this moment to water up
because my Mom gently wiped at their corners and her expression
changed to a worried look.

	"If you say so dear," she paused momentarily. Not to be outdone
by its neighbors, my nose soon joined in, causing me to start sniffling.

	"Oh crap, I hate this God awful disease." I moaned softly. I was
getting really sick of being sick. Not only was my body going to and
from hell, but my emotions had decided to catch the new roller coaster
in town as well.

	Mom, God bless her soul, had figured this out as well. "Why don't
we get you back to bed for a little while? You're tired and not thinking
clearly and this conversation requires too much from you right now." I
started to object, because I still wasn't sure she had this all straight,
but she put up her hand again, "And we'll talk more about this later. I
don't want to hear any complaints out of you, 'Young Lady'." She
smiled at me, letting me know she was joking about my appearance.

	"Ahhh ma'," I mock protested to let her know that I acknowledged
her intentional gender insinuation, but didn't think it too funny at the
moment.

	"Ahhh nothing. Now get going and get into bed. I refilled all your
little containers while you were asleep earlier. I'll check on you after
awhile." She kissed me on the forehead and guided me to the
bedroom. I had to smile at myself again for being so clever with the
drinking system. But as I lay down on the bed I had to ask myself, just
how long was I out when my Mom had set me on the couch?
Apparently long enough for her to snoop around and come up with
that wacky notion of hers.

	I had brief moments of thought over the next few hours. I couldn't
tell you at the time if I was awake for them or if I was dreaming them.
They happened, and a few bits stuck with me. I remember that I was
trying to think of why I didn't end up changing out of my Stephanie
persona after my Mom showed up. That led to wondering why Mom
wasn't too upset about seeing me looking like a female in a pink robe.
And what the hell was she thinking about when she asked if Jim was
taking advantage of me? It was just a few innocent kisses to throw his
dad off the scent. But some of those were when his dad wasn't
around. And then there were those couple of times where he helped
me in the shower. How did she know about those times? I didn't tell
her. I knew that Jim hadn't either. She couldn't have known. Maybe
she was just postulating. Besides, I smelled better afterwards.

	It was nice.

	A nice gesture that is.

	Friends type stuff.

	It was nothing.

	Really.

	Why the hell did she have to come over for anyway?

	I don't need more complication.

	I hate it when you feel like you have to explain something simple
and obvious to people that don't believe you. You've heard the
expression; 'I'll believe it when I see it.' Well, more often than not, it's
more like; 'I'll see it, when I believe it.' Apparently, ignorance is only
bliss to the ignorant.

	Crap. There I go, ranting about it. In my sleep no less. Now that's
pathetic.

	When I next had more than a brief trip into the conscious world I
noticed that the sun had moved around quite a bit. I must have really
used up all my reserves earlier in the day dealing with Mom and all.
My mouth was a bit pasty, and none too tasty either. I grabbed one of
my drink tubes and proceeded to drown the army that had taken up
residence, and creating the awful taste, inside my mouth. Naturally
numerous pills needed to be followed with more drink, and what goes
in does find its way out, so off to the restroom I went. When I finished
the call to mother nature I decided to see how bad I looked to the
world this day.

	When giving myself the critical eye, only one could focus at the
time, I could tell that I'd lost quite a few pounds over the last couple of
weeks. Maybe I could make millions of dollars marketing the new
'mono' diet. Guaranteed to lose weight and a few weeks of your life. I
inwardly grinned as I thought that there were only a few side effects to
worry about getting past the FDA. 'All pain, no gain' could be my slogan

	Focusing at my reflected image again brought me back to reality.
If you knew me before this dreaded disease had taken over my life,
and without the recent changes made by Jim's' friends, you would
have to say that I now looked like death warmed over. Strangely
enough though, the loss of weight managed to heighten the girl bits
that had been performed on me. Well, that, and the lack of hair on my
face. So instead of looking like a sick and scrawny Brad, I looked
more like a slightly sick Stephanie. I still wasn't sure how to take this
revelation. I knew I was getting healthier because a few days ago I
wasn't thinking about this kind of stuff, let alone thinking in general,
but today I was. As I was running these last few days of changes
through my brain I continued to stare at myself in the mirror, trying to
see where Brad had ended and Stephanie had started.

	I was too lost in the puzzle to notice my Mom standing behind
me, looking over my shoulder, until she spoke up.

	"Are you feeling alright dear?", she asked, her motherly mode
having kicked in. "We heard you get up but you didn't come out right
away, so I thought I would check on you."

	I smiled a bit to show her that I was doing better. "Yeah," my
voice squeaked. I tried to clear my throat, "Much. Better than this
morning anyway."

	And I was for the most part. Except for the throat and voice that
seemed to want to pigeonhole me into this weird octave. It irritated me
because if I tried hard to use my normal voice, it hurt like no other.

	Mom noticed the voice too. "That voice of yours doesn't sound so
well. Are you taking something for it?"

	"The doctor gave me some stuff for it. He said something about it
being an inevitable infection, or something. Ironically, all things
considered, it feels better to talk all soft like than to talk normally." I
paused for a bit when I remembered something she had just said.
"You said 'We' heard me get up. Who else is here? Jim?" I asked.

	"Well, yes. . .", pregnant pause, "And his father is here as well."
She looked at me quizzically waiting for my reaction. "He stopped by a
few hours after Jim came home. Jim said he wanted to break the
news to you and give you a chance to get ready before his dad came
over. In case you had changed back."

	"Ahhh maaan." I softly let out. "He was supposed to be going
home today. 'I' was supposed to be coming back today." Referring of
course to me, Brad. I figured my Mom would know that too.

	"It's alright dear, he won't be here for that many days. Something
about the plane having a broken gear something or other. They should
have it fixed in a day or two." She patted me on the shoulder.
"Besides, I'll be here to watch over you and keep you out of trouble."
She gave me hug then, and to tell the truth, I needed one right then in
the worst way.

	"His father seems like a nice man," she added. "A little back
woods-ish, or in this case, country farmer, for my tastes though. Thank
God your father isn't that way."

	"I suppose you had some time to talk with Jim about all this?" I
asked her shoulder.

	"Yes, and he confirmed what you told me earlier. He feels bad
that it has gone this far. He too thought that just lying in bed with a few
girl things spread about would have sufficed. I almost wondered if he
was still ill or just not thinking straight to come up with this plan. But
anyway, we talked. He is such a nice boy. I like him." She pulled back
to look me. "You got yourself a real friend in him."

	The hug over with, Mom got back to business. "Now lets get you
cleaned up and dressed so you look half way decent for your guest."
She turned and started to draw the water into the bathtub.

	"Ma', I think I can bathe all by myself now. I am over twelve." I
again didn't mention how I was bathed before hand. Must avoid topics
that require full conscience efforts.

	"I know dear, but you don't look quite well enough to handle it all
by yourself." she explained as she added something to the water that
smelled flowery and began to remove my robe. "You hop in and I'll go
tell the others that you'll be out in a little bit. I'll come back and check
on you shortly, Stephanie," she smiled at me. Her use of my new
female name caused me to make a 'don't use that name it makes me
feel awkward' face.

	Seeing the change in my face, her tone shifted as she continued,
"Don't you give me that look young girl," she commanded with a finger
pointed at me, to which I gave her a different look.

	"You better get used being my daughter and being called
Stephanie, or some other female pronoun, for the next few days, or
your whole masquerade will have been for nothing. And for heavens
sake, stop being so modest by trying to cover yourself up."

	Because I had been attempting to do just that. Thank you very
much.

	"It's not like I haven't seen you naked beforehand. Even if you
have those extra features all the guys like so much," she teased.

	My look of embarrassed surprise at her comment told her that
she had scored a point for her side. Having thus scored, she shooed
me towards the warm water. I was going to protest, but I wasn't quick
enough, and she was not about to let up, nor let me get a word in
edgewise.

	"Now turn around and let me help you get this bra off," she
commanded. Momentarily caught in the parent vs. young child frame
of mind, I didn't think as I turned to face the tub. I felt her pull at the
back of the bra and the release when she had it unhooked and started
to slide the straps off my shoulders. What I wasn't expecting to feel
was the shift in weight on my chest.

	"What the hell . . .?" I looked down at the two things hanging from
me.

	"What's the matter honey?", my mom asked as she turned me
back around. "Oh.", she breathed as she saw them too. "Oh my.", she
thought to add. And then she gently poked at one of them asking,
"Why . . . how are these attached?" and discovering that they were in
fact, not real.

	If I had been witty at this point, I might have simply said, 'Oh,
yeah, those are my boobs. You like 'em?' and left it at that, just to
tweak her some. But I had spaced there for brief moment and was
caught off guard myself.

	I've been delirious for the past few days O.K., so give me a
break.

	"You're not answering my question dear." Mom reminded me.
"How did you get these to stay on, and how long before they come
off?", she asked again.

	O.K., now it was time to get embarrassed again, and have a
brain cramp.

	As I stood there waiting for something to come to mind, as an
explanation, she commented further, "They look so, well, so natural on
you. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were the real things. They fit
your frame just so. They must have been expensive," she concluded.

	Quickly snapping back to my senses, I jerked my arms up over
the breasts in an attempt to hide them from her. I know, I know, a bit
late for that you say.

	"I . . . I . . . It . . .They . . . Oh crap." I managed to stutter and
looked to the heavens for help in my mortification.

	"Honey, relax. There's nothing to get upset about," she said,
holding my shoulders to face me towards her. "If you don't want to talk
about it, I can wait. I'd rather not, but I can wait." Her look of concern
was helpful to my sense of discomfiture.

	"No. It's just." I paused while trying to think of what to say. "It's
that I'm embarrassed, 'cause, well . . . I don't know."

	"Don't know what dear?" Again with those questions.

	"I don't, I don't know how they got them to stay on. And I don't
know how long, or how, to get them off." God this was way too much
to handle.

	When had I first found out they were glued on, and not just stuck
in a bra, it was interesting to say the least. Jim's 'girl' friends had said
something about it during my transformation but I just hadn't thought
about it until now. I didn't even think about it when Jim was helping me
get cleaned. I thought it rather ironic of me for not remembering that
fake breasts were attached to my chest. Delirium was my only last
straw excuse.

	"Who's they?" she asked, and then remembered before I could
say again, "Oh, yes, yes. I remember, Jim's friends." After shooing my
hands away she looked my breasts over for a bit and came to a
determination. "Well, I would think that they would have used a
common dermal adhesive that most likely came with them, when they
bought them. You aren't the first person who needed to be filled out.
Most woman who have a mastectomy use them in between that and
their reconstructive surgery."

	"Any way, quit worrying so much about it. When this is all over
we'll just use the solvent and you'll be back your old self again.
Remember, you got yourself into this mess young lady." she
emphasized with her pointed finger. Which made me glare ever so
slightly at her. "And for however long it takes for Mister Macdonald to
get his plane fixed and headed back home, you need to stay like this.
Besides, it also gives me more time to spend with my 'new'
daughter." I gave her another look, to which she replied, "Don't you let
me down. I've always wanted to have a little girl in addition to having a
boy, but nature's plan didn't work out that way. Don't you take my
Stephanie away from me just when I get the chance to spend a little
moment of time with her."

	Talk about laying the guilt trip down. My mother was going to
blame me for her missed opportunities with raising a girl if I didn't go
along with her plans. She seemed to be taking all of this in with just a
little too much enthusiasm. Then, to take the sting out of the guilt trip
and lay the trap with honey, she threw in the clincher.

	"Besides," she added in an offhanded way. "If you're busy
spending all that time with me, then you don't have to be spending it
with Jim and his father, now do you?" Her dramatic pause was well
timed. "But it's up to you."

	She waited for a bit before making double sure there was no
doubt about whether or not I should feel any guilt if I didn't remain
Stephanie for her. "You decide who is more important to be spending
time with. Now sit and bathe."

	And with that she turned and headed into the other room.
Leaving me to go sit in the bathtub with nothing but bubbles and the
aroma of flowers to entertain my thoughts.

	Damn, she can be so manipulative sometimes.

	I felt so trapped that I almost looked around to make sure there
wasn't a rock or a hard place in the tub with me. Either way you
looked at this, I was going to be a girl for a couple of more days. I
could choose to hang out with Jim and Pa' Macdonald whenever I was
awake, or with my mother, who acted as if she just discovered a new
hobby to keep her busy. Even as I was resigning myself to being stuck
dressing as a woman for a while, I knew I couldn't disappoint my
mother. Hell, she gave birth to me and had to live with all the crap I
gave her and Dad over the years. Besides, what could happen in the
next few days?

	Feeling supremely confident that nothing would happen, or that I
could escape whatever situation popped up, I slipped further into the
bath water and soaked my self clean.

	Lying there in the water, I let my mind clear and focused on
relaxing. The warm water was nice as the heat eased the aches from
my body. The smell from the bath soap that Mom had poured into the
water was definitely better than what I smelled like after a sweat filled
slumber. As I idly played with the bubbles my attention was caught by
the sight of the two flesh colored mounds peeking through some of
those bubbles.

	"Oh, man," I softly whined as I realized that I hadn't done a very
good job of hiding them from my mother. Damn, she's a crafty one,
she is.

	"Just go with the flow my dear b, uh, girl." I sighed, "Just go with
the flow."

	I must have gone with the flow all the way into oblivion because I
was awakened with a start when Mom came in and told me it was time
to get out and get dressed.

	Having been lulled into a brief slumber by the warm water and
the brain cloud created by the 'mono', I didn't catch on right away that
my mom was helping me out of the tub and watching me. I patted
myself dry, because rubbing was going to require way too much effort,
and then wrapped myself up in the towel, covering my enhanced
chest, girl style again. I noticed that my hair had gotten damp from
leaning back into the water so I reached for a towel. Mom was quick to
jump in and assist me with the towel. She had me bend over while she
did something with the towel then stand back up again.

	"There, that should help you avoid getting yourself wet again. It
also make you looks more feminine that way." My mother's comment,
about how feminine I would look with my head wrapped in the towel'
caught me off guard.

	"Uhh . . . Err, Well . . . I uhh . . . it uhh . . .", went my mouth and
brain. It was all I could do to stutter some unintelligible syllables. And
of course turn a lovely shade of flush red from the neck up as I tried to
turn away in an attempt at hiding my embarrassment.

	"It's O.K. dear." She consoled as she gently turned me back and
framed my face with her hands. "Just go with the flow. And as a
famous playwright once said, 'Act well your part, for there all the honor
lies." I later realized that she had carefully avoided the 'by the way,
you're naked in front your mother again' issue that had bothered me
earlier.

	"Thanks Mom." I hugged her just then because I needed it.

	Moms are great. I personally think that my Mom is the greatest,
but that's my opinion. I remember that ever since I was a kid, she
seemed to be always one step ahead of the curve as it were. Calm,
cool, collected and ready for whatever came up. Maybe that's how she
was able to deal with all those 'kids will be kids' things I came up with.

	We ended up back in the bedroom where I found that Mom had
already laid out some clothes for me to wear. It looked to be just some
fairly basic stuff. A pair of low cut lightly tan/khaki, as she called them,
Capri pants. Some ankle socks to go with the white canvas shoes.
There was also a sky blue, short-sleeved polo style shirt and a white
hooded sweater with a zippered front to go with it.

	"In case you felt a little chilly with the A/C going," my mother
explained.

	Setting next to these were the so-called unmentionables. Mom
had chosen a white, lacey bra and matching white, lacey thong. She
had decided that I wasn't aware of what clothes were, so she
described them all to me as she held them up against my frame. I was
sure I couldn't be any more embarrassed than I was at this moment
when she proved me wrong.

	"Stephanie," She focused on me with a concerned expression,
holding the underwear in front of me. "I wasn't sure if you knew how,
or if you were able, to hide little Brad junior. If this won't work," She
shrugged at me, "then I'll find something else for you to wear that
should help."

	In theory, even if you were able to dig a hole straight through the
center of the earth to the other side, and were able to survive the
molten center, the percentages say that you'd end up floating in the
middle of some ocean, regardless of what you may have been told as
a child.

	I say this because, one, I didn't think there was a hole deep
enough for me at this moment, and two, my brain kept feeling like it
was continually being set adrift ever since my mother showed up.
Oh, I knew that both Mom and Dad were fairly broad-minded people.
They had been part of the 60's movement when they were in college
and so were used to all sorts of 'out of the norm' stuff. I knew this in
the back of my mind. It was that recently, due to the mono thing I'm
sure, the conscious part of me wasn't in communication with rest of
the brain and therefore didn't expect this kind of reaction from my
mother.

	This of course had also put me in a quandary, of sorts, at the
moment. I wasn't sure if I should thank God that because I was so ill,
and almost mentally comatose, that all of this wasn't freaking me out
more than it could be. Should be? I decided that freaking out deserved
a chance.

	"God, Mother! How could you!?" I squeaked at her. "Why do you
have to keep embarrassing me like that?" Reaching out and grabbing
the underwear from her, I half turned to hide my embarrassment and
'junior', even though he was behind the towel with me.

	"I'm sorry dear," she sympathized. "I thought that you'd have
already dealt with that before hand. I didn't mean to upset you so."

	"Well I have! And it's not, you know, 'that' that's bothering me." I
tried to explain. "It's that fact that you're my mother and I'm looking
like, like this." Mom was about to say something but I cut her off and
she was gracious enough to wait for me to finish. "I'm still trying to
cope with how this went from simply lying around in bed, no one the
wiser, to you stopping by saying, 'Oh, hey this is cool. I got a new
daughter. Let's go have fun.' "

	"It's . . . It's just that you seem so comfortable with it. Like it's no
big deal. Like you're almost too comfortable with it. It's, it's just weird,
that's all." I had slowed down at the end there. My anxiety had
diminished quite a bit from where it had been. I wasn't sure if it was
that I was running out of energy or because Mom was looking so
motherly.

	She stepped closer and gave me another hug that I begrudgingly
accepted at first, then welcomed as I realized how much of a comfort it
was.

	"I can understand how you must be feeling. We've all had our
embarrassing moments before." She leaned back and smiled at me
before continuing. "Someday, after all this has settled down, you
remind me to tell you about how your father first met your
grandfather." She went back to hugging me and continued, "You'd be
surprised at how much he would understand what you're going
through now."

	"You just have to remember that, although at first I was a bit
shocked to see my son dressed as you are now, I've had some time to
mull it over and get used to the idea. I also had a chance to speak with
your friend, Jim, a little before his father came around again. And yes,
a part of me is a little eager at having the chance to hang out and
have fun with my make believe daughter, even if it is only for a short
time."

	"So, if you have no further objections," she re-directed, "let's
finish getting you dressed and then we can go pull some more wool
over Mister Macdonald's' head."

	"Alright," I agreed as I looked at the clothes that Mom had laid
out for me, "But can I just wear sweats for now? I don't feel like putting
anything nice on at the moment. Besides, you'll be lucky if I don't pass
out in the middle of the living room."

	Mom looked at me for a brief moment, thinking about my request,
"Well I suppose that I may have been a bit over anxious this soon in
your recovery. I guess that sweats will do for now. But let's get your
hair fixed and put some makeup on to make you look a little more
presentable. You may feel lousy, but there's no reason to look it."

	"Thanks Ma'," I whined at her. "You know how to make a girl feel
real special like."

	"Oh for heavens sake!" She play swatted me as she saw my
attempt at humor by the big grin on my face.

	I still turned away from my mothers' sight as I first put the
underwear on and junior into position. I wasn't comfortable getting
completely naked in front of my mother yet, made up the way I was.
Unfortunately despite my attempt at independence, I couldn't work the
bra into position very well. I was still not up to an adequate level of
dexterity and energy. Fortunately Mom was cognizant of my situation
and quietly helped with my bra before I had to suck it up and ask.

	With my sweats on, Mom had me sit down while she did her
thing with my hair and face. I tried real hard to pay attention to see if I
had done the right things the other day. Unfortunately I experienced
one of those moments were you pass out without really passing out. I
remember Mom starting to brush my hair when the next thing you
know, she's done. What brought me out of my trance was, ironically,
the lack of activity around my head and face. I thought I'd fallen
asleep, almost anyway, and opened my eyes to show that I hadn't.
Mom was just looking at me with a slight smile and look of
wonderment on her face.

	"Well I have to say Brad, and don't take this the wrong way, but,
Stephanie is a nice looking young woman when you bring her out. You
must have looked fabulous the other night when you went out."

	"Uh . . . thanks, I guess." I was trying to not take it the wrong
way.

	Sensing this, as only mothers can do, she hustled me out into the
living room. Straight from the frying pan into the fire. So to speak.

	Both Jim and his dad stood up as we finally came out into the
living room. Jim, apparently not fazed by my mothers' presence, came
over to assist me to the couch. He hooked one arm around my
shoulders and supported my near elbow with the other. I shot Mom a
nervous 'don't freak' look but she had already smiled and was heading
off to the kitchen.

	It looked as though Jim, or more likely Mom, if her quick
departure from my side was any clue, had laid out some snacks for
everyone to nibble on to help pass the time. Most of the plates and
bowls were close to empty as I looked around.

	Jim's dad was his usual friendly self. The over eager, can't trip
over themselves fast enough to go out of their way and be polite type.
His Texas drawl was working against him though, because it kept
reminding me of when Jim would tell stories about how his dad was
such a redneck.

	'He done seem 'right nice 'n all. But jus' 'bout evr'body knows th'
story of th' woof 'n sheeps clothin'.

	I giggled at my own inner attempt at humor. I must have done it
loud enough for everyone to hear because Mister Macdonald looked
at me quizzically.

	"What's got yer funny bone there darlin'?" he asked.

	"Uh . . . " I silently went, 'woops', and mentally kicked myself.
"Oh, uh, nothing, really." I tried to cover.

	"Now, now. Come on out with it. Ya got me all curious." His
curiosity must have been contagious because as I looked to the
others, in a vain and misguided attempt for a way out, their eyes were
focused squarely on me in anticipation.

	Oh crap! Think fast, think fast.

	"Oh, no . . . no. It's just. Well . . .", I tried to think faster. "It's 
just
that . . . you know. It's that everyone came here looking to go do
something, and, you know, get to know me, or each other, better."  I
indicated with my hands at everyone in the room. "But I kind of got
sick, and well, you all went and got to know each other anyway. I just
thought it was funny, that, that even though I wasn't a part of it,
everyone seems to having an OK time of it. Like I really didn't need to
be here. That's all."

	I shrugged a little and mentally pleaded to God that that, had
made sense to someone. I wasn't sure if it made sense to even me,
and I said it. It was a lame attempt at best to avoid saying what I really
had been thinking. But with out meaning to, my comment just about
sent everyone back peddling, even though they hadn't forward
peddled.

	Jim's mouth probably would have hit the floor if it weren't still
attached to his head. I wasn't sure but I thought I saw a look of
apologetic guilt mixed with a touch of 'what the hell, that may have
worked' understanding. While he was working on finding his jaw
muscles, his dad was making it up for him.

	Mister Macdonald was figuratively tripping over his own heels as
he tried to apologize. First he apologized for not being more thoughtful
to include me in all the activities, and then again for trying to use the
excuse that I wasn't asked because I wasn't feeling very well to begin
with. Of course it didn't make sense to me that I would have wanted to
participate if I was ill. So how could it make sense that he should have
asked, if everyone knew that I probably wouldn't want to go? Make
sense?

	Mom was of course the level headed one and tried to a sway
everyone back to normalcy with a perky smile and pep talk. "Now, now
dear. We all know you've been under the weather and unable to be a
gracious host the way you would have liked. No one here is faulting
you for coming down with this illness. You needed your rest and we all
respected that. We all love you and we too, missed having your
company. So don't fret over something that you had no control over.
You're up and about for a little while so let's not get any gloomier and
instead enjoy that you're getting better."

	Jim finally found his voice and whole-heartedly agreed that yes, I
was missed and no, he wasn't trying to ignore me. To prove that he
felt that way he had quickly jumped up to give me a hug and a bunch
of kisses. The first few were quick and on my forehead with the last
one a little longer and gentler but on my lips. I was a little surprised
that he hugged and kissed me in front of my mother, but I was even
more surprised by the kind of kiss he finished off with. I tried to steal a
glance at my mothers' reaction when he stopped but was prevented
by Jim's bear hug that buried my face into his chest.

	When Jim pulled away enough to guild me to the couch I did my
best to put on a smile and act like nothing had happened. I was
getting light headed and didn't want to panic in front of everyone. I just
hoped that Mom could go with the flow like she had told me to earlier.
When I could, I looked over at her, but she was telling Jim's dad that
everything was all right and he hadn't done anything wrong. Because
of that, I wasn't sure if she had witnessed anything or not.

	We sat there in silence for what seemed like forever. I guess I
pretty much killed whatever conversation they had going earlier. I felt
bad about that because I didn't really mean for it all to come out the
way it had. The longer the silence went the more I felt like I had to get
it started again.

	"So, uh, Mister Macdonald. Mom tells me that you had some
trouble with your plane, and that you'll be here for a little while longer."
That ought to get things going again.

	"Wahl, that's right." He began. "Seems there's a problem with
mah landin' geah. Some sorta motor that pulls them wheels inta th'
plane for flyin' s'all broke. Mah pilot says he should get th' parts and
get 'er back 'n runnin' by t'morrow night. Lucky fo' me, 'cuz I gets to
spend more time with y'all," he nodded his head at Jim and I on the
couch. "And I got th' chance ta meet your beautiful ma." He gave Mom
a big grin and I swear that I saw her blush.

	"She was kind enough ta share some stories 'bout your grow'n
up. So's I feel like I know ya betta' even though ya been laid up."

	Oh crap. "Uh, what kind of stories Mom?" What stories did she
tell that I'd have to live up to now, I thought to myself.

	It turned out that she had told a number of childhood tales of me
growing up. Some, where I had actually been a part of but in a
different gender role, and others that I was never a part of. I think
Mom was having too much fun with this for my own good.

	"She's been a lovely blessing from the very moment I laid eyes
on her." Mom gave me a warm smile. "A mother couldn't have asked
for a better daughter than her. Both her father and I are very proud of
all that she's accomplished over the years. It's going to be hard to see
her leave when she's all done here. But I know that Jim will take good
care of her. Look at what he's done so far."

	Jim must have accidentally inhaled a potato chip just about then
because he started to choke and cough quite violently. Being next to
him, I tried all I could to pat him on the back in an effort to dislodge the
wayward piece. At least that's the impression I gave. "Now Jim, you
know you're not supposed to eat so fast. Are you gonna be all right?"
His shaking head in the 'no' direction prompted his father to get
parental and help him as well.

	As Mister Macdonald came over to give additional aid to his
suffering son I caught my mothers attention and glared at her with a
'you can be quite the evil one sometimes' look. Whether she chose to
either ignore me or fail to pick up on it, she just sat there with a slight
smirk on her face. The smile was only interrupted when Jims Dad
would look up, then she would put on her concerned worried mask.

	Eventually Jim regained control of his throat and the excitement
died down. Of course, it again became fairly quiet for a while as
neither Jim nor I had anything to follow up Mom's comment with. Mom
apparently also felt like she had already supplied enough input, as she
kept quiet as well. I was just about to suspect that maybe Jim's dad
had also run dry when he tried to kick-start the conversation again.

	"Well now, now that Jim's a little better, I guess now's a good
time fer me ta ask ya'll a little favor." We all looked at him wondering
just what he could want. "Well, as ya'll know, Jim here usually comes
back home ta visit for the summah. An' well, since it wouldn't be right
ta leave Stephanie here all by herself, I . . . uh, me and the wife were .
. . uh, we were wonderin' if'd be alright for Steph here ta come stay
with us a spell this summah? When Jim comes home." Mister
Macdonald looked at each of us expectantly, hoping for a positive
answer.

	I could only stare in disbelief at the offer. I wasn't expecting
anything like this to come up. Not in my wildest dreams. There was no
way that I was going to do this. I'm still sick. He must be insane to
think I'd go anywhere in this condition.

	"Maybe you too ma'am, would like to stop by on yer way back
home, to visit a spell?" he offered.

	Christ, a whole summer.

	His mom would see right through me.

	This is not what I want to do.

	I needed a little support here, so I closed my mouth and I turned
to Jim for help. Jim however, was no help, as he just gave me that 'I
didn't see that coming, but I'm game to go along with it if you are.' look
that was of no use what so ever. I could almost swear that I'd seen
that look before, right about the same time this all started.

	Damn him for chickening out on me like that. Well, if he won't
help, then Mom will stick up for me. I turned to my mom and silently
asked for her support.

	"That's a very generous offer Mister Macdonald." My mother
stated matter of fact. "I think it would be lovely to meet your wife and
family. Stephanie has shared with me some of what Jim has told her,
about your family. It'd be nice to put faces to the names. I'll just have
to let Stephanie's father know the change in my plans."

	What the hell? I was speechless yet again. Who the hell does
she think she is to say that we'd go along? But I knew the answer to
that one already.

	Goddamn traitor. That's who she is.

	"Uh, Mom." I have got to head this off at the pass. "I don't think
that's gonna work out. For a couple of reasons."

	"Why on earth not honey?" She asked of me. Like she didn't
know.

	"Welll, I uh, I still don't feel very well. And I wouldn't want to be a
burden to anybody, you know, more than I am now."

	"Nonsense there Steff!" Mr. Macdonald chimed in. "It'd be no
trouble 't all. More 'n happy ta have ya."

	What the hell? Can't these people take no for an answer?
There's got to be something else to fall back on. But what.

	"Oh, uh . . ." Jim started to act like he had something to say. "I, I
think Stephanie's just trying to be polite." He turned to ask me. "Isn't
that right dear?"

	I looked back at him. I gave him the 'Sorry bub, you're on your
own with this one, 'cuz I have no idea where you're going' stare, to
which I hope he interpreted correctly.

	"You know. You don't want to hurt his feelings." He was still
looking at me like I knew what was up his sleeve. He stalled at that
point, looking expectantly at me. Was this his idea of help? Was this
his answer? Wasn't there something else that needed to be said? Did
ya' leave something out there buddy? Or you just making this up as
you go along too and handing over the reigns, as it were?

	Of course! How could I miss it? It was good 'ol me that was
supposed to come to the rescue. I'm the sick one. I'm the one with half
a wit at my current disposal. Why not me then to figure this one out as
well? All I could think of as I stared at Jim was, 'Thanks buddy. Good
to know I can count on you when the pressure is on.'

	That may have been an unfair thought, looking back in hindsight.
But it certainly was how I felt at the moment.

	"Well I . . .", just a little stall tactic I learned in school. "I'm really
just embarrassed, mostly."

	O.K., to what should I be embarrassed about?

	"Come now darlin', there ain't nuttin' to be ashamed a'. Shoot
we're almost family." Jim's dad was prompting me, "Tell me what'cha
worried 'bout."

	Family. Yeah right. I don't think so. I don't fit in the . . .

	Then it came to me. Oh thank GOD! I started to smile but quickly
stopped. Have to look disappointed. Gotta' make the sale on this one.

	"Well it's just . . .", good pause this time. "It's just that I feel
kinda', awkward, you know, saying it front of Jim and you." I looked
SO like I was upset at having to say this. They all waited in
anticipation for me to continue, even Jim, and he knew what I was
going to say was as full of pooh as you could get.

	"It's just that, well . . .", ok, I drug it out long enough. "It's that I'm
not as lucky as Jim and your family. I mean money wise. No offense
Mom, you guys did the best, and I'm grateful." Now it was her turn to
raise an eyebrow and see where I was going. Her pooh meter was
working as well.

	"It's just that I feel I need to work during the summer, to help pay
for school, and, and my living expenses." Whew, I acted like I had just
spit out this big terrible secret I had been hiding from everyone.

	"I, I want to start being responsible, and I believe a part time job
for the summer will do just that for me." I threw them my proud look. I
dare you to knock me off my principles.

	O.k. then. Presentation over. Now a moment of silence please,
while the academy votes.

	"Yeah, that's what I meant!" Jim broke the momentary silence
with his revelation. "She didn't want to make you feel bad, you know,
because she has to work and all. Isn't that right honey?" He smiled at
me, patting my leg. I thought I had just said that. At least he was
behind me on this idea. I smiled back at him. Thanks for the support
buddy.

	"I tried to tell her it wasn't necessary," Jim added. "But she
insisted. So I guess that means we won't be able to stay at the farm
this summer." He grinned like it was his own idea at work here. Sweet
success seemed only a moment away.

	"No. No, I guess not." Mister Macdonald looked almost crest
fallen. I just then realized how much he had wanted us to go visit.

	But I couldn't.

	This had gone on far enough.

	Hadn't it?

	"Well," Mom started, then volunteered, "There's always the long
July 4th weekend!"

	"WHAT!?!" Jim and I yelped as one, looking fiercely at her.

	"I said, there is always the long July 4th weekend." She offered.
"You can still have your summer job and maybe visit for the holiday
weekend."

	"Wahl now, that there sounds like a right good ahdear." Mister
Macdonald was back in the game now. "I c'n send the plane on up ta'
get you young'ins th' day b'fore, an' have ya back b'fore yuz even
know it. It's all set then. You two plan on comin' up fer the weekend.
I'll tell the misses to be  'specting y'all."

	"Well I don't know . . .I . . .", I started. This thing had to end now.
And it didn't look like anyone else besides me was interested in
stopping it. Well maybe Jim, but I think he was more worried about
letting his dad down at the moment then he was about me dressing up
again.

	But then the unexpected happened.

	"Mister Macdonald," my Mother spoke up. "I'm sure that both Jim
and Stephanie would very much like to spend the holiday with you and
your family. We'll just have to see if their schedules will allow them the
time off."

	"Sure, sure, of course." He agreed but followed up with, "Jus'
don't make no oth'r plans tho'."

	My head was starting to spin. First I was stuck as a girl for the
summer, then I wasn't. Then I was again for a weekend, then I wasn't.
Then it all got tossed in the air to see which side of the coin landed
face up.

	Right side up, I'm Stephanie, the other, I'm Brad. Or better still,
'Heads you win, Tails I loose'.

	Oh boy. What Fun.

	I think that Mom could sense that I had had enough for today
because she didn't let anyone get another word in.

	"Ok. Now that that's settled, it's getting late and I'm sure all this
excitement has worn poor Stephanie out for the day. Don't you all
agree?"

	Jim, the recently ever so talkative one, NOT, nodded his head
vigorously in the affirmative. I was already doing my part, looking quite
confused and ill.

	"Good lord, look at the time, your right." Jim's dad declared. "I
should be headin' back to the hotel room ta see if I got any messages
'bout the plane." He stood to get ready to head out and worked to elicit
a confirmation from us. "R'member now, y'all make sure ya make
plans ta stay with the family."

	"Sure Dad." Jim confirmed as he too stood up with his father.
"We'll see how it goes. Give me a call and let me know what you hear
from the mechanics. Ok?"

	"Sure thing son. I'll jus' let ma'self out. Thanks ag'in fer yer
hospitality." He started for the door.

	I was about to get up too, but he interrupted, "No, no. Don't'cha
bother ta get up darlin'. You jus' take care of yerself. And you, her." He
pointed to Jim then me.

	"And ma'am," he turned to face my mother who had also gotten
up. "It was sure mah pleasure ta meet Stepahnie's ma'. You got
yerself a pretty lil' gal there." He nodded at me then back at my
mother. "An' you be sure ta think 'bout comin' 'round fer th' holiday 's
well. Won't be no trouble 't all."

	"Why thank you Mister Macdonald. That's very sweet of you. I'll
speak with my husband about that when I return home."

	Jim's dad had made it to the front door by now. "Y'all have a
good night now." He tipped his hat and was gone.

	When the door shut, I got up and turned my passion loose on my
mother.

	"Just what the HELL was that all about?!?" I demanded. Jim
looked like he wanted the same answer but was polite enough not get
in my Mom's face.

	"Now hold your horses there, MISSY!" She too raised her voice
and poked her finger at me in addition. "And yes I do mean 'MISSY'. I
just saved your collective rear ends back there." She pointed to the
couch.

	"You what!? How do figure that? You just invited me to do this
even more." I accused, my hands presenting me, to show off what I
was talking about. "I think your gettin' a kick out of this." I threw
another accusation at her.

	Mom glared real hard at me, but didn't rise to the accusation.
Instead she slowly leaned a little in my direction and explained herself
a bit. Slowly, and with conviction she continued.

	"Just how long do you think it would be before Mister Macdonald
surprised the two of you one day by showing up here, unannounced,
with his mother," She pointed at Jim, "because YOU TWO wouldn't go
see them?"

	I was still looking heatedly at her but began to think about what
she had just said.

	"Oh", I realized. "Damn it to hell anyway!" I cried out and stomped
off to go be ill someplace on my own.

	"And you call yourselves college students?" she rhetorically
asked.