Evelyn’s parents felt relief when she returned home to tell them that Mrs. Buckner said she was pleased to welcome Evelyn and her infant son into the household.

“She kind of scared me at first,” she told her parents. “But she seems nice and says she’s eager for me to start.”

“Don’t you like her, dear?” her mother asked.

“Oh yes, I do now and she was so warm and loving to Merritt,” Evelyn said, smiling. “It’s just that I’ve never been with such a rich lady before.”

“Mrs. Buckner has always been a big support for our Relief Committee,” her mother said, referring to committees formed in many churches then to help out families on “relief” with food and other necessities of life. Such relief committees were often the last hope for starving families before the days of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal of the 1930s.

“But she did ask me about the father, wondering where he was,” Evelyn said.

“What did you say? Hope you didn’t tell her about Drake?” her father said.

“Just said I didn’t know, that I was forced into sex once and that was that. And, she apologized for being so nosey. She’s really nice, daddy.”

“You know, we said we’d keep this all in the family,” Thomas McGraw said. “I suppose we could have gone after the Kosgroves for some money but I don’t believe in that. We McGraws take care of our own.”

“I know, daddy,” Evelyn said, truly feeling happy now that she could look forward to a life that for Merritt’s infant years would provide her with a home and support. Even the thought of that night in the car with Drake Kosgrove caused her horrors. Her memories were crowded with the suddenness by which Drake had turned from what appeared to be a sweet young man to a ravaging monster, so crudely taking away her innocence and ruining her life.

She was comforted, however, with the realization that she soon would be living in a comfortable home where Merritt would find friends among a nice woman and her daughters. She even looked forward to serving the “nice lady.”

*****

Evelyn took to mothering naturally, it seemed. Even before she moved into the two-room maid’s quarters in the Buckner estate, she had found handling the infant to come easy. Even the early morning feeding which interrupted her sleep didn’t bother her, as she held the lovely child to her breast.

Her breasts grew large, almost over-sized for even her plump frame, but they comforted the boy as he suckled. She always arose, picking the child up from his crib, and holding him in her arms as she went to a rocker that her father had found at a second-hand store. In her pregnancy she had gained a bit more weight than she liked, but she had filled out into a soft plumpness that seemed to accentuate her natural beauty. The child rested on her tummy as she held him to her breast.

A day after Evelyn arrived at the Buckner estate, Mike O’Hara, the Buckner chauffeur, had gone back to the McGraw household in the Packard to pick up several more of Evelyn’s books and clothes; he also fit the rocker into the Packard and brought that along.

“I missed the rocker so much, Mike,” Evelyn said when he brought it into her room. “Thank you so much.”

“Your mother said you liked to rock little Merritt to sleep in it,” he explained.

Merritt quickly became the hit of the household. Viola Buckner and her oldest daughter, Nancy, were constantly present, wanting to care for the child, take him for walks down to the beach or just hold him as Evelyn did her work. In her free moments from her cook duties, Mary O’Hara joined in the care of the child. Merritt was not suffering from lack of attention.

Only Mrs. Buckner’s youngest child, Elizabeth, who was eight, seemed upset to have the new child in the household.

“I think Beth’s upset that she’s no longer the center of attention here,” Viola said when Evelyn questioned why the younger girl never seemed to take an interest in Merritt.

“Oh I hope this hasn’t hurt her,” Evelyn said.

“She’ll get over it, my dear. It’s called a sibling rivalry, almost like little Merritt is the new baby in the family, replacing her as the youngest.”

The older girl, Nancy, 10, however, developed a motherly manner with the infant, taking every opportunity to cradle him, walk him in the buggy and change his diapers. Viola Buckner rummaged in the attic to find a box of baby clothes that her two girls had worn as infants.

“Evelyn, I know they’re for the girls, but they should be fine for an infant,” she said in presenting the box to the young woman.

Since Evelyn arrived in the household with barely one change of clothes for Merritt, she accepted the box of clothes eagerly. In those days, it was still common for infant boys to wear dresses; they made sense, since it was easier to change diapers when the child was in a dress.

“He looks so darling,” Viola commented, after Evelyn put Merritt into a light blue dress. The boy’s hair was a light blonde, and flowed over his ears, and when Nancy took Merritt in the buggy out along the main street that fronted the Buckner property, she was constantly besieged with comments like, “What a pretty little girl.”

“What’s the little girl’s name?” one woman asked, and when Nancy replied, “Merritt,” the woman said, “Oh that’s such a classy name for a girl.”

Nancy told Evelyn about the incident, and it dawned on the new mother that “Merritt” indeed could also be a girl’s name. The idea bothered her, and she wondered about calling the baby “Lane,” but realized that also could be a girl’s name. In the family’s effort to give the child family names, it was now obvious they had chosen androgynous names.

*****
Evelyn’s entrance into the Buckner family came easily, comfortably. She had become a ready companion for the widow Viola, her rather naíve intelligence becoming strangely attractive to the older woman. To the two girls, Evelyn became a role model, being the first older girl the two children had ever had much contact with.

During her time as a waitress, Evelyn developed makeup skills, thanks largely to Mrs. Savage, who was the hostess at the country club. “I want all my girls to be classy and dressing in good taste,” she explained on Evelyn’s first day on the job. “And you, my dear, look like a hussy,” using a term popular in the era, and referring to one who’s be called a slut in the 21st Century.

Evelyn had worked hard, with her mother’s help, to put on decent makeup for her job, but apparently the working class definition of being “classy” did not fit into the style favored by the wealthy classes. Tears came to Evelyn’s eyes as the hostess criticized her.

“Don’t cry dear,” Mrs. Savage said, comforting Evelyn. “Let me show you.”

Mrs. Savage turned out to be Evelyn’s strongest supporter at the club, helping her become more comfortable and confident as a young woman. Evelyn rewarded the hostess by quickly becoming one of her top waitresses, a career that was abruptly ended when she became pregnant. Evelyn took those lessons on being a woman of class and quality to heart.

With Viola’s permission, she taught the young girls how to put on makeup and dress pretty; she was developing into a natural teacher and confidante for the girls. In turn, they were often available to play with Merritt, to change his diapers and watch him while she went about other chores in the house.

In the practice of the upper classes of the era, it was not strange to dress little boys up until about age 5 in dresses. Since the Buckner household had plenty of dresses, it seemed natural to continue the practice. Evelyn let the boy’s hair grow, and it grew straight and blonde, flowing about his tiny shoulders.

Merritt took his first steps wearing a light blue gown that reached almost to his feet; it came after Elizabeth (who soon lost her jealousy over the boy thanks to Merritt's charming behavior) had just finished dressing him, having tied his hair into pigtails, captured in two pink ribbons. His mother entered the nursery, seeing her son made up like a pretty doll. She was ready to chastise Elizabeth for having dressed him so outwardly girlish, but the boy, standing next to his crib on the floor, saw her and squealed, taking three tentative steps into his mother’s arms. He was 13 months old.

“He walked,” Evelyn yelled, drawing the attention of the whole household.

Viola, her daughter Nancy and Mrs. O’Hara all ran to the room, gathering in the doorway.

Elizabeth’s attention, however, was directed at how she had dressed the infant. “Didn’t I make Merritt so pretty?”

“Yes, honey, you did,” Viola said. “She’s such a pretty girl.”

“And she took her first steps!” exclaimed Mrs. O’Hara.

“She?” Evelyn said in astonishment. “She? He’s a boy, not a she.”

“Oh but, Evelyn,” Viola began, ‘She’s … ah . . . he’s so . . .ah . . . handsome.”

*****
It turned out that Merritt was a perfectly charming child, easy to raise; both Buckner girls enjoyed caring for the youngster, finding him to be eager and joyful in their presence. They continued to find dresses for him to wear, many of them frilly and dainty, and the boy seemed to be happy wearing them. The girls had a roomful of dolls and two dollhouses; the sheer quantity of dolls dazzled even Evelyn who had been raised in a worker's home where there were few toys; as a child she had a ragdoll made by her grandmother, and she adored it. She envied a few of her girl friends whose parents were able to provide them with store-bought toys, but she had never seen such a selection of toys as the two Buckner girls had.

By the time Merritt turned four, he gained close attachment to a Shirley Temple doll that Elizabeth had gotten for Christmas. By the day after Christmas, Elizabeth by then 11 years-old, ran to her mother, crying, “Merry won’t let me have my doll,” she said, using the nickname the girls had adopted for the boy.

The boy literally pounced on Elizabeth’s doll when the package had been opened on Christmas morning, eagerly changing and unchanging the various dresses that accompanied the doll. He ignored a large red fire truck that was his major gift of the holiday.

“Mommy, mommy, I love Shirley,” he cried after his mother said he must return the doll to Elizabeth.

“It’s Elizabeth’s, not yours, honey.”

“Mommy, mommy,” he wailed, sobbing into his mother’s skirt.

“But you have this nice truck, Merritt,” she said.

“Let Bethie have the truck.”

“Bethie’s a girl, honey, she doesn’t want a truck,” his mother said.

The boy’s demand to play with Shirley continued unabated, with the result that Viola that afternoon ventured into the downtown department store to purchase another Shirley Temple doll. Evelyn protested that they were spoiling her son, but Viola, still flush with wealth, felt the boy’s interest in the doll was so intense that he should not be denied the doll.

*****
“Now Merry wants to be like Shirley,” Elizabeth informed her mother and Evelyn two days later.

“What do you mean, Beth?” her mother asked.

“She wants a dress like Shirley’s, and she wants her hair all curled,” the girl explained. “She’s so weird mom.”

“Oh he’s just a little boy,” Viola told her daughter. “He’ll grow out of it.”

That’s how Merritt became “Shirley Temple” as the year 1935 began. Mary O’Hara, who had worked for sometime as a hairdresser, was summoned to fix little Merritt’s hair to match the doll’s.

“Miss McGraw,” she said to Merritt’s mother. “I don’t think you should do this to the boy. His hair really should be cut, so he looks more like a boy.”

Evelyn considered the cook’s comment, but before she could answer, Viola interceded, “Oh Evelyn, I wouldn’t worry about it, he’s just four now, and this is a phase. He’ll grow out of this once he meets other boys.”

“Oh Viola, I don’t know, he only plays with girls’ things, never his own. I’m beginning to worry about him.”

“He’s a perfectly healthy and happy little boy, Evelyn. Let him enjoy himself.”

“My dad said we’re turning him into a sissy,” Evelyn responded. “Soon he’ll have to go to school and the boys will pick on him. That’s what my dad says.”

Evelyn recalled, too, her father’s words about raising the boy in a household where there were only females. Her mother, too, was shocked when Evelyn had brought Merritt back home for a Sunday visit several weeks after Christmas, and the boy insisted on showing his Shirley Temple doll to his grandmother. Evelyn had dressed her son in a neat proper boy’s outfit, black slacks and a white boy’s shirt, but even that failed to disguise the girlishness the child exhibited with his full head of curly blonde hair (fashioned to match the Shirley Temple doll) and a discernible prissiness that accompanied his actions.

“Namma, namma,” the boy said in his high child’s voice, full of excitement. “I have a Shirley Tem’ doll. She’s mine.”

Grandma McGraw hoisted the boy and his doll on her lap, expressing her joy at the boy’s happiness, expertly concealing the shock she felt at seeing her grandson so happy with a doll.

“That’s a pretty doll, Merritt,” his grandmother said, holding the boy on her lap and running her hands through his curly locks. “What are you doing with his hair, Evelyn?”

“Yes, Evelyn,” her father echoed, an anger in his voice.

“It’s curled,” her mother said.

“Yes, mother,” Evelyn finally admitted. “It what he wants.”

“You mean Merritt? It’s what he wants?” her mother asked.

“Yes, mom . . . and . . . ah . . . dad. It’s what Merritt wanted. He wants to look like the doll.”

“The doll?” her father yelled. With that her father, leaped up from his easy chair, storming across the room, and grabbing the doll from his grandson’s grasp.

Merritt looked at his grandfather in horror, tried to leap from his grandmother’s lap, but she held him tight as the boy watch his grandfather take the doll out of the living room, heading for the kitchen.

“I want my doll, I want Shirley,” the boy cried.

Soon he was in a full cry, tears streaming down his face, his tiny arms and legs squirming in a vain attempt to leave his grandmother’s hold.

“What are you doing Dad?” Evelyn said, running into the kitchen after her father.

“This doll’s going into the trash, where it belongs. No grandson of mine will be playing with dolls, and I want his hair cut immediately, if I have to do it myself.”

“No daddy, don’t. It’ll crush him.”

“Don’t you dare break that doll, Thomas.” It was Grandmother McGraw, still carrying a squirming Merritt, who came into the kitchen, her eye’s blazing.

“It’s for his own, good,” Thomas McGraw said. “We need to make a boy out of him. All you women out there in that damned Buckner joint. No wonder he’s like a girl.”

With that, Thomas McGraw tore the head off the doll, sawdust from inside the doll scattered about the kitchen floor, and he charged out of the house, tearing the legs and arms of the doll, throwing the remains into a garbage can at the rear of the yard.

Merritt cried and cried and cried. He didn’t stop crying until he and Evelyn were returned to Buckner household, where Elizabeth took the boy into her room, consoling him and letting him dress her Shirley Temple doll. His crying stopped, but even Elizabeth’s kindness could not halt the hurt he felt in his heart.

*****
Merritt insisted on wearing his daintiest of nighties that as he went to bed. He also wanted to take Elizabeth’s Shirley Temple doll into the bed, and that caused a brief squabble in the boy’s bedroom.

“No, Merritt, dear,” his mother said, “You can’t take the doll to bed with you. It’s Bethie’s”

Merritt, holding the doll tightly, began to cry, and Elizabeth quickly said, “Oh that’s OK. Let Merry sleep with the doll. She loves it so much.”

“No, Elizabeth,” his mother responded. “You know he could damage the doll in his sleep. Besides, it’s your doll.”

“She loves Shirley so much.”

“Dear, quit calling him ‘she’ and ‘Merry.’ He’s a little boy, and his name is ‘Merritt.’”

“No, she’s my little sister, Merry.”

Elizabeth went to the bed and sat next to Merritt, hugging him tightly. “You can sleep with Shirley,” she said.

“Now, Elizabeth, that’s enough,” Viola Buckner said. “You heard Miss McGraw. She doesn’t want Merritt sleeping with Shirley.”

The boy handed the doll over to Elizabeth, who stormed from the room, the curly-headed doll in her arms. Merritt curled up on the bed, his sobs filling the room.

“Here honey,” said his mother, handing him a ragdoll he usually slept with. The boy grabbed it eagerly, and held it tightly, his crying slowly subsiding.

Evelyn McGraw got off the bed slowly, looking back at her son, a fragile form in the fetal position, the ragdoll clutched firmly. Bethie’s right, she thought, the child is a girl, but what an awful future lay before this slender, dainty person. It was enough to make Evelyn McGraw cry and wonder: what had she done to create this lovely, wonderful little person whose future raised so many worries for her.

*****
That night, Evelyn realized that perhaps her father was right, even though he acted with such cruelty toward the boy. Somehow, she would have to make Merritt her little boy again.

Two days later, Evelyn prevailed on Mary O’Hara to cut Merritt’s hair, shortening it to a typical boy’s length. The cook agreed to it, saying she thought it a good idea since soon the boy may be finding playmates outside of the Buckner household and would be going to kindergarten. All boys wore short hair in the Depression, even if the family could not afford the 10 cent cost of a child’s haircut. In such cases, a mother or father used scissors to slice off hair, often leaving uneven cuts. In poorer neighborhoods, it was not unusual to see home-shorn heads among the boys in a classroom.

At first Merritt refused to sit still on the kitchen chair setup for the haircut.

“I want my Shirley curls,” he cried.

“Now, honey, you know you can’t keep going out like a little girl,” his mother pleaded. “Soon you’ll be in kindergarten.”

“I don’t wanna be a boy. Let me be a girl.”

“Oh, silly,” his mother tried to new tactic. “We’re just trimming your hair a bit. Mary will make you look pretty.”

“I want to keep my hair, mommy.”

The child began to squirm out of the chair, beginning a bee-line out of the room, to be caught by Mike O’Hara, the family chauffeur and Mary’s husband.

“Now, my precious,” Mike said, holding the squirming child gently, but firmly. He hugged the boy, and the boy soon quieted down.

“Mrs. McGraw, why don’t you leave and let Mike and me handle this?”

Evelyn nodded, recognizing this was a time to let the O’Hara’s work with the child. The couple had taken a liking to the boy, and he, in turn, had enjoyed helping Mary in the kitchen many times. Mike took the boy under his wing, as time permitted, urging him to “help” in washing the cars and even taking him fishing in a nearby pond. Merritt said he had fun with Mike, but, in truth, Merritt seemed happier with Mary working with her in the kitchen or assisting in folding clothes.

A half hour later, Merritt emerged from the kitchen, his curls gone, and his hair still showing some length, but not enough to mark him as a girl. Merritt’s eyes were red from crying, and at first he refused to look in a mirror.

“Go ahead, honey, look,” his mother said.

He took a tentative look, quickly turning away. A few seconds later, he took a longer look, and his scowl turned to a faint smile. He touched his hair in the same dainty manner he had grown used to, playing with it, almost modeling it.

“Mommy, I can still tie my hair up,” he said.

Evelyn sighed. Somehow, her son would have to become a boy before school began.