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From: "Rebecca A." <cyan@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: New TG: Marcia and Me 7/?
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Like a fool the first time I sent this I put in a character that caused 
my remailer to clip it.  Sorry

Hi

This is only the second story I've ever written.  It's still incomplete, 
but since I'm stuck around part 14 and have been for a while now I 
thought I'd send it off and see whether people like it enough for me to 
continue.

Hope you like it

Becky

***

Chapter 7.  Late Sunday Morning.


I woke late, and lay in bed for a while contemplating the events of the 
previous day.  I wondered what Mom was going to say today.  I wondered 
what I was gonna do about my hair.  And my eyebrows.  When I raised my 
hands to brush my hair away from my face I remembered I still had painted 
nails, too.  Eventually I got out of bed and went to the bathroom.  For 
some weird reason I sat down to pee.  It didn't even occur to me that I 
was doing it until I'd almost finished.  I guess it was because the 
t-shirt was almost as long as the dress I'd been wearing the previous 
night.

I went downstairs to the kitchen and poured myself some orange juice.  I 
was standing looking out the window when my Mom came in.  "Good morning", 
she said brightly.

"Hi Mom," I said in a similarly cheerful tone.  

She put some coffee on, and came over and gave me a hug.  "How are you 
this morning?"  

"Pretty good, I guess"

"Ah, the joys of youth!" she smiled.  "I remember when I could stay up 
all night and be bright the next day, too.  Enjoy it while you can!"

I smiled.  She wasn't so old, really, but she joked about it a lot.  She 
handed me a croissant and pointed to the butter and jelly on the table.  
I sat down.  She poured us both some coffee and sat down across the table 
from me.

"I have to go across to Megan's today", she said.  "Do you want to come?"

"Okay," I said without thinking.  Megan was my mother's sister, about ten 
years younger and a lot of fun.  She lived with Mark, who was a famous 
photographer.  They were both very arty and liberal and lived in a really 
cool house right on the beach down in LA.  "What time are you gonna go?"

"Did you know you're still speaking differently?", My Mom said softly.  I 
stopped buttering my croissant.  

"Really?" I said, and realised she was right.  I was still speaking the 
way Marcia had taught me yesterday.  Wow.  How did I usually speak?  I 
tried to remember.  "Um, I don't know ..."  I cleared my throat, and 
spoke in the deepest voice I could.  "Is that better?"

My Mom laughed.  I laughed too.  I sounded like I was a girl imitating a 
guy.  "I guess it will come back eventually", I said.  

"Interesting", my Mom said.  She reached across the table and touched my 
hair.  She was about to say something when there was a knock at the 
kitchen door.  It was Marcia.

"Hi Mrs. Miller", she said nervously.  "I just came to see, uh, Chris for 
a few minutes.  Is that okay?"  She was carrying another shopping bag, 
which reminded me of my clothes.  Whatever had happened to them?  They 
hadn't been in the car when we'd gone to the party last night.

My Mom let her in, and offered her some coffee.  Marcia sat down while my 
Mom poured it.  She looked at me for a sign as to how things might be.  I 
didn't know what to say, so I looked at the table for a moment.

"You did a nice job on her hair, Marcia", my Mom said as she handed 
Marcia the coffee.  I looked up.  Mom had said "her".  Marcia looked at 
Mom, too.  

"It did look pretty good, didn't it", Marcia said hopefully, as though 
unsure of my Mother's state of mind.  She looked across at me and smiled. 
 "All it really needed was a bit of tidying up."

"Well, the color's better, too", said Mom.  "You did a much better job 
than I did when I cut it".

I sat back and pulled my hair up behind me, wanting to hide it from view 
a little.  Mom looked over at me and winked.  "I just have a couple of 
phone calls to make, I'll leave you two alone", she said.

After she'd gone Marcia looked across at me inquisitively.  "Well?"

"Mom was pretty good, I guess".

"What did she say?  What's with this "her hair" stuff?"

"She was pleased I had a good time"

Marcia looked at me strangely.  "Your voice ..."  

"Yeah, I know.  Maybe it'll gradually go away."

"So she didn't go apeshit about Paul?"

"No.  I don't think she was really crazy about that, but she just said 
she wanted me to be happy."

"Wow".  Marcia sat back in her chair.  "That's pretty wild".  

We discussed the events of the previous day.  I admitted to Marcia that 
I'd enjoyed it a lot, more than I really cared to tell anyone else.

"I meant what I said yesterday," Marcia said quietly, "about you seeming 
more comfortable as a girl"

I looked down at the table, then back at her.  That wasn't exactly what 
she'd said yesterday, but I knew what she meant.

"Anyway, I just came over to see how you were doing.  And to see whether 
you wanted to come to the dinner I'm having next Friday night."

I was surprised, she'd mentioned it a lot before but never in the context 
of me being invited.  "Um, sure, that would be great,"  I said.

"I was thinking we could make it ten people instead of eight, and maybe"  
her voice dropped a little "you could ask Paul if he'd like to come."

"Uh".  The penny dropped.  "You're inviting Jenny, not Chris"

"Um, reality check, I hate to break it to you, but you still look a lot 
like a Jenny, and you're still acting that way," she said.

"Bigger reality check - I'm a boy,"  I said.

"Well," she said, "Whatever you say.  Let me know in a day or so, okay?  
If you want to come the offer stands.  It would be really  cool.  And 
Mike told me Paul is really aching to see some more of you."

I bet he is, I thought.  I wasn't sure more of me was necessarily a good 
thing.

"Anyway," Marcia said.  "in the meantime I thought you might like to 
experiment a little more, and I bought you some things you might like to 
borrow."  She handed me the shopping bag, which was full of clothes.  I 
looked at her with some surprise.  "Or not, whatever", she said.  "I 
gotta go, my Dad wants to take Rob and me to see the car he bought 
yesterday, he's like totally overwhelmed by how great it is".  She 
shrugged.  "He's okay for a dad, really, and I like to make him feel 
happy at times like this".

"Thanks", I said, still holding the clothes.  "Uh, and thanks for a great 
day yesterday"

"That's okay", she said as we both stood.  She opened the kitchen door, 
then kissed me on the forehead.  "I like having you for a girlfriend, 
it's like having a little sister", she said as she turned and left.

I went upstairs and put the bag Marcia had given me on my bed.  I went 
back to the bathroom and had a shower, tying my hair up to keep it from 
getting wet.  As I showered I thought about Mom's behaviour so far this 
morning.  And Marcia's.  They seemed to want me to continue being Jenny.  
That was a surprise, especially Mom's attitude.  I had to admit to myself 
that life seemed a lot better to Jenny than it did to Chris.  And I had 
enjoyed the attention from Paul.  I was embarrassed just thinking about 
it.  Would I have enjoyed it as much from a girl, say Marcia?  I supposed 
I probably was queer.  Uh.  Great.  That was gonna make me a whole lot 
more popular at school if anyone found out.  Not.  

But then I thought girls were neat, too.  So I couldn't be queer.  Could 
I?

I thought about what my Dad would say if he could see me now.  I 
shuddered.  That was not something I wanted to think about any more than 
I had to.

When I got out of the shower I brushed my hair out thoroughly.  It still 
looked very feminine.  I decided to wear it in a ponytail, that seemed 
appropriately androgynous.  But when I tied it back I noticed the bangs 
Marcia had given me framed my face and made me look very girlish.  Maybe 
it was the eyebrows.  I went back to my room to dress.

When I got to my room I noticed my Mom had unpacked the bag Marcia had 
given me.  She'd laid out some of the clothes on the bed.  I presumed 
this was some kind of a hint.  What the hell, I thought.  If she wants to 
explore this a little further, why not?  I picked up the underwear, a 
pair of white cotton panties and a white cotton bra.  Then I noticed the 
fake breasts, lying on the t-shirt.  I looked around, and noticed Mom had 
hung the black dress I'd worn last night up in my closet.  Mom had 
definitely decided she liked me better as Jenny, I thought.  I wondered 
how long that was gonna last.  I put on the bra, and put in the jelly 
inserts, then looked at myself in the mirror on my closet door.  The bra 
was a little big for the breast inserts, but there was no doubt about it, 
I looked like a young girl again.  Maybe a little underdeveloped, but I 
sure didn't look like a boy. 

I put on the remaining clothes, a pale blue t-shirt and a short dark blue 
skirt and ankle socks.  In front of my closet on the floor were a pair of 
white sneakers.  I was standing looking in the mirror again when my Mom 
knocked on the door.  She smiled when she saw me.  "I always wondered 
what it would be like, having a daughter", she said.  I went over to her 
and hugged her.  Then I burst into tears.

"Hey", she said.  "We can't have that.  Don't you like it?"

"Yes, Mom, but that's the trouble.  I like it a lot,"  I said.  "I only 
just realised how much".

"Well, then, that settles it for today," she said, drying my eyes.  "You 
look beautiful, so long as you don't cry".

She took me into her room and let me use her mascara, which I applied 
very sparingly.  She told me I didn't need anything else at my age.  Then 
she gave me a casual purse she thought was young enough for me, and a 
thin gold bracelet with a diamond pattern on it.  "This was my mother's" 
she said quietly.  Finally she popped two thin gold rings in my ears, 
which were still hurting from yesterday.  "And these were the first bits 
of jewellery your father gave me, when I was seventeen", she said.  I 
hugged her again, and thought maybe I was going to cry some more.  She 
hugged me back, and said in a no-nonsense way  "Enough.  There are things 
to be done today".

She made me handwash the bra, panties and pantyhose I'd worn the previous 
night, then gave me some nail polish remover and helped me get the polish 
off my fingers and toes.  She didn't like the color, which she thought 
was "cheap",  but she said I could wear another sometime.  Mom rarely 
wore it herself, so there wasn't any in the house fresh enough to use.

Pretty soon we were on our way to Megan's.  I hadn't asked Mom what she 
thought was gonna happen when we got there, what she thought Megan and 
her boyfriend Mark were gonna say when they saw me.  I figured she must 
be pretty confident they'd be cool about it.  In the car the sun on my 
legs felt great, and I put the seat back and stretched them out a bit, 
taking a little snooze for the hour or so the trip took.  I woke up about 
ten minutes before we got there, which was enough time for me to get 
really nervous about the way I was dressed.  I really liked Megan, she'd 
always been really good to me, especially since Dad left, and I was a 
little scared of Mark, although I really didn't know him very well.

Finally we reached their house, which was down right on the beach, built 
out on poles over the sand with a breathtaking view of the breakers a few 
yards away.  As we stood at the front door my Mom gave my hand a squeeze, 
then Megan opened the door and smiled warmly at both of us.  "How are you 
both?  How was the trip down?"  she asked.

We went in.  I could tell immediately that one of the calls my Mom had 
made earlier that morning was to Megan, because she was expecting me as 
Jenny and didn't miss a beat when she saw me.  She just acted like I'd 
always been Jenny.  Which was cool.  I really liked that.  I didn't want 
her to make a fuss or anything.  

We went and sat out on the balcony, overlooking the beach.  Two people 
were walking along the sand in the distance, but otherwise it was 
deserted.  It was a wonderful place, and I said so to Megan, even though 
I'd been there several times before.  Mom and Megan began chatting about 
things, about how life was going for each of them.  Megan had a new job 
as an assistant to some guy in the movies, which she was enjoying 
although she said the guy was a dork.  As she was saying this, Mark came 
out onto the balcony.  He nodded to Mom as he said hello, and was about 
to say hi to me when he just stopped.  "Wow", he said, looking me over.  
"I was prepared, but not for this."  

I blushed.  Megan said "Oh, Mark, calm down."  My mother smiled, and Mark 
looked a little embarrassed.  

"Sorry", he said.  "I was just kind of expecting a boy in a dress, if you 
know what I mean".  Mark was always kind of blunt about what he thought.  
"I guess I better make some lunch before I embarrass myself further, huh?

He smiled at me and I felt better.  He had a great smile, I'd never 
noticed it quite like that before.

We had lunch, a chicken salad with some great Italian bread.  Afterward 
my Mom asked Megan whether it was okay to have a look at the things 
they'd discussed, and Megan led me inside to the bedroom.  There were two 
suitcases at the end of the bed, with a lot of clothing folded in them.  
"I wasn't sure," Megan said " whether you and I would be the same size.  
I think some of these might need to be taken up a fraction, and one or 
two might be a little sophisticated for someone your age, but ..."

I looked at the suitcases.  My mother frequently called Megan a 
"clotheshorse" behind her back, she was always dressed in the very latest 
fashions, and clearly spent almost all her meagre paychecks on clothes - 
but then, as she said, she was an L.A. girl.  I turned and gave her a 
hug.  I was a bit overcome.  My Mom looked on, and smiled at Megan and 
thanked her for me.

"Well, see what you think", said Megan.

I picked up an item which had been neatly folded.  It was a little 
creased, but not too badly.  I held it up to myself, feeling more than a 
bit self-conscious.  It was a blue and yellow silk dress, with short 
sleeves and a thin tie at the waist, and it felt fantastic.  My mother 
looked more closely at the label, and then shook her head.  "We can't 
take this, Megan.  It's very sweet of you, but this is a $400 dress."  I 
looked at the label.  Calvin Klein.

"Yes, but it's two years old", Megan said.  "And to tell you the truth 
I'm a little too meaty for it.  You know how Kate Moss looks great in 
that stuff?  I'm no Kate Moss.  I don't know what I was thinking when I 
bought it.  I've only worn it once.  Besides", she added "Mark gets some 
of these for me for free when he does commercials for them, so they don't 
all cost us that much".

My mother was unconvinced, and made a remark about being the only one in 
the family who didn't get to wear designer fashions.  We went through the 
rest of the clothes in the cases, mostly skirts and tops and a few 
dresses.  Almost all of them were outrageously expensive.  My mother 
vetoed one dress as being way too much for a teenager, and I could see 
that another would be a problem because it had a very low back and I 
wouldn't be able to wear a bra with it, but everything else was amazing.

"I wish I could fit into this stuff," my Mom said more than once.  I 
started to feel guilty, until Megan told me that we had to have some kind 
of fashion show.  So they went back out to the balcony, and I changed 
into one outfit after another and promenaded out to show them.  I started 
with the plainer stuff, feeling very self-conscious at first but relaxing 
as I went along.  When I went out in a red shantung minidress my mother 
immediately vetoed it, but I could see Mark's eyes never left me the 
whole time I was out there.  I realised I liked that.  The next outfit 
was a black miniskirt and pale blue blouse, and I acted a little flirty, 
immediately sorry for it because Mark became hugely embarrassed and Mom 
gave me a look of strong disapproval.  Megan laughed and laughed.

Most of the clothes got Mom's seal of approval, and so Megan and I went 
back in the bedroom and folded them up and packed them neatly in the 
suitcases.  Megan looked at me, then hesitated, then put the shantung 
dress and the Calvin Klein in, too, underneath everything else.  I 
grinned, and she held her finger in front of her lips to indicate that I 
mustn't say anything.  Finally Megan gave me a pair of black pumps and a 
pair of strappy black sandals.  They were a tiny bit tight, but Megan 
grinned and told me a girl had to suffer for her art.  We both laughed.  

Before we left Mark and Megan had a quiet conversation in the kitchen 
while Mom and I enjoyed the sunshine outside on the balcony.  He carried 
the suitcases out to our car for us, and said goodbye as soon as he'd 
loaded it in the trunk.  Mom gave him a brief hug, and he said something 
quietly to her.  He looked at me hesitantly, then I gave him a small hug, 
too.  He went back inside as Megan and Mom were saying their goodbyes.  I 
hugged Megan, thanked her profusely again and then got into the car while 
they talked quietly on the other side of it.  I figured they were 
probably discussing me, but I was pretty worn out and I just wanted to 
sit down.  I heard my Mom say "as long as it's not weird" and "we'll have 
to discuss it", but that was about all I got.

***

Continued in Chapter 8.

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