Chapter 9

Cindy’s dad had been on a sales trip for a large corporation where he works. As sales manager he travels a lot and ever since his promotion, he’s rarely home. He returned home while I was with my mother in San Francisco and I wondered what his reaction was going to be when he saw me again?

Mom dropped me off at Cindy’s around nine in the morning. Luckily her father had already gone to work in Roseville and would be back home in the evening. He already told Gloria his stay would be brief and would be flying out to New York City in the morning.

I’m certainly no expert on marriages and the only barometer I have is my parents union, but I seemed to sense tension with the Meyers. I watch my mother sitting with my father day after day and could feel Gloria wouldn’t do the same for her husband. I don’t know if constant traveling on Mr. Meyer’s part causes the problem, or if there are things I don’t know about the marriage? Cindy has never said a word about her parents other than entering her in soccer before she became a model.

“Does your dad know I’m staying here?” I asked, when I returned to the Meyer’s home.

“Yes, he doesn’t have a problem with it. He feels really bad about your father.”

“Your dad and mine are good friends.”

“Until Dad got his new job. He’s never home anymore,” she said with a trace of bitterness in her voice.

“What does your mother think of his job?”

“She hates it. I swear they hardly talk anymore. I’m worried they might split up.”

“They won’t, I’m sure,” I said, trying to make Cindy feel better.

“Mom said she’s glad she has you for a client just in case something happens and Dad moves out.”

“God Cindy, I hope that doesn’t happen.”

“Me too.”

“Does your father know about Amanda?”

“Mom said something about her to him, but I don’t know what? Dad’s pretty open minded so I don’t think he’d have a problem with it.”

“I hope not.”

“Hey, you promised to bring my clothes back to me with them on your body?”

“Sorry, Mom was in a rush this morning when she dropped me off, and well, I thought it would be best to be Mark.”

“You could change now.”

“Cindy, I really don’t want to right now. I’m not in an Amanda mood. I miss my mother and she’s only been gone for an hour. I’m so worried about my father, I just wish there was something I could do for him.”

“You will when he comes home. How did he feel about seeing you again?”

“He called me his princess.”

“Did you like it when he did?”

“Very much. I thought I would hug him to death. He really loves me, the Amanda me.”

“Do you think he’ll remember Mark?”

“It’s too early to tell. You should have seen his eyes light up when he first saw me, God Cindy, I felt so wanted.”

“Even more than when you were, Mark?”

“No, it was just different. I felt like he wanted to protect me whereas, when I’m Mark, he wanted to spend time with me, to show me things, you know, how to be a man.”

“And you didn’t feel that way as Amanda?”

“No, I just felt different, like he wanted to build a moat around me and worship me. Oh Cindy, I felt so special and so much like a girl. If being a girl could bring my father back, I’d be one in a heartbeat.”

“Maybe being Amanda might bring him back.”

Cindy’s dad came home a little after seven in the evening with a bouquet of flowers for Gloria.

“Honey, I’m home,” he yelled, as he entered the house.

“We’re in the kitchen,” she yelled back.

Ron Meyer entered the kitchen and handed the flowers to his wife. I couldn’t help seeing a thawing in their relationship as they kissed hello. Ron saw me sitting with Cindy looking at her portfolio.

“Mark, how’s your dad?” he asked.

“He’s a little better. He’s out of his coma, but doesn’t remember what happened.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll get better.”

“I hope so.”

“Hey, I heard you’re getting into modeling just like Cindy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good for you. You don’t meet many boy models these days.”

Boy models? What had Gloria told her husband about me, and what had she left out?

“Umm, I’m not really a boy model sir.”

“Of course you are, what else would you be?” he asked, and then the penny dropped.

Ron paled as he looked intently at my face. You could have cut the tension with a knife.

“Uh, does your mother and father know?”

“They had to sign the permission papers.”

“I see, well for what its worth, you’re very pretty.”

The rest of the evening was tense and to be honest I was glad to see him go in the morning. I wondered what he would be telling his fellow employees about the freak living in his house?

The next three weeks passed quickly. I visited Dad four times, always as Amanda. I was becoming very comfortable as a girl which made me wonder what it was doing to the boy I had been for my whole life? Cindy finally talked me into dressing for her, which I did twice. To be honest, I didn’t feel any different than I did when dressed as Mark. I suppose Cindy had a point, I was whom ever I was inside and the outside didn’t matter. She was adamant that I was a girl and the more I thought about it I think she might be right, but if that was the case, why was I so happy being a boy?

The big moment in my life finally arrived. Cindy’s subscription to Teen magazine arrived with my picture in it. Actually there was more than one of me and Gloria went through the roof with excitement. I had made the inside of the front cover, a foldout in the middle and the rear cover of the magazine.

“Mark do you know what this means?” she asked.

“No.”

“You’re their featured model. You just made the big time sweetie.”

She explained that those were the most important places to be in the magazine. They also cost the most amount of money to advertise. Looking at the ads, I knew something was special. I don’t remember what I looked like during the shoot and especially looking as pretty as I did. There was no doubt as to who Lush wanted for their girl because next to my picture was my name in white print, Amanda Flowers.

Cindy and I spent the next five minutes hugging and squealing like a couple of teen girls even though we were still twelve years old.

“Girls, put something on. We have to go to the market and see if the other magazines have these pictures in them.”

Cindy and I had been lounging around playing video games and just talking. I was of course dressed as Mark, so I wondered why Gloria would address me as a girl? I guess after seeing the ad, I could hardly be addressed as a boy, I was beautiful.

We dressed, Cindy in her jeans and me in my shorts and a T-shirt. I looked like a scruffy girl or a typical boy, but it was summer time and it was expected.

We arrived at the market and headed straight to the magazine section and started looking at the latest issues of teen and women’s publications. I was in every one of them, some featuring me in the most looked at part and others not so prominently placed such as Vogue, but I was there. When I looked at myself it was as though I was seeing someone else altogether. I was Mark James, and all I saw was an absolutely gorgeous girl named Amanda Flowers. Looking at my face I could see why Lush had wanted me for their model, I just couldn’t relate to me being that girl.

Gloria bought all the magazines with my picture in them. It cost her a fortune.

“We need to see what they did with your photos and how they were used. I hope they didn’t photo-shop them, although I don’t know why they would, you’re so pretty.”

“Why would they change the pictures?”

“You’d be surprised, but I doubt it will happen in your case.”

We returned to Cindy’s and went through all the magazines. I was surprised at how I looked. As I said, I just couldn’t relate to being that beautiful girl. I looked older, maybe sixteen or seventeen and it was kind of flattering. The only a part of me you could see was my head and a little bit of my neck. I was wearing my wig and it was styled perfectly. My lashes drew attention to my eyes in ways I didn’t think was possible. They were long and luxurious.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” Gloria said. “It’s hard to believe your not wearing false lashes.”

“They’ve always been that long.”

“And that’s why Lush picked you to be their model. Believe me Amanda, you’re going to go a long way in this business.”

“What happens if they find out about Mark?”

“Honey, we’ll make sure no one does.”

Mom called later that evening and the news wasn’t good on my father.

“Honey, the doctors think your father’s brain damage is worse than they thought. It’s going to be a long stretch of therapy before he can return home.”

“Mom, we’ll be okay,” I said, “Guess what?”

“What Honey?”

“My picture is in a bunch of magazines.”

“They are?”

“Yes, and I look really pretty.”

Mom was silent for several seconds before she spoke.

“Which ones, Mark. I’ll buy one to see how my pretty, pretty boy looks.”

I named off several publications for her to look at.

“I’ll bring an issue back for your father to see. I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see his daughter, the model.”

“I hope so Mom, and Mom, please don’t be ashamed of me. I really like being a model.”

“Honey, I’m not ashamed of you, in fact just the opposite. I’m just worried about what this might do to you. You’re much too sweet and I worry about you.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried about you sweetie, I’m worried about Amanda.”

“Mom, Amanda will be fine.”

“I hope so. Goodnight honey, I’ll tell your father I talked to you.”

“Mom, please tell him I love him.”

“I will.”

The news about my father was unsettling. As a child you thought your father was indestructible. Fathers and mothers were forever and were always there to lean on. Dad was the strong one, a real man, with the confidence in himself to not have to prove anything to anybody. He knew how to treat people and how he wanted people to treat him and his family. I still remember how he reacted to mascara when I was barely past infancy, it was fun and I was his little man. There was none of the BS that a boy couldn’t wear mascara, or any other makeup, it was just makeup. My father is a special man, and I miss him. My memories of our time together, fishing and becoming a man were special, but my dearest memory was when he held me tight to his chest as his daughter, his Amanda.

Dad was moved out of a private room into a semi-private one to save the cost private rooms demanded. Mom was very worried about how long the insurance would last before she had to dip into their savings. I think my father liked being with someone he could talk to while he recuperated, other than my mother. Since the room was no longer private my mother was going to return home and would visit every other day. The best part of that was I would join her to visit my father but as Amanda. I liked that I would be able to spend more time as a girl. Being Amanda had become a forgotten person even with the publication of my pictures. It just seemed easier to remain Mark, but as I began dressing as Amanda, I wondered why I hadn’t become her more often. I loved being Amanda and I hope my mother will become more at ease with her. Only time will tell.

A month passed and the new issues of the magazines came out again and I was featured as prominently as before. Gloria got a call from Hollywood Modeling and they requested another photo session. Lush Cosmetics was ecstatic with the result of the ads featuring me. Their sales had gone through the roof. Apparently all the girls that had written to, Lush, wanted to be just like Amanda Flowers, lashes and all. They needed new pictures so an appointment was made for the following week. Also during the call they mentioned several clothing lines had shown interest in having Amanda Flowers model a tweens line. Gloria said we would think about it, but asked how much they were offering, reminding them that Amanda Flowers was now a popular commodity. She thanked them and hung up the phone.

“Amanda, Honey, you’ve done it, there’s no turning back now. Everyone wants a piece of you. When things like this happen, it’s so exciting. I can’t wait for them to make an offer to you for the clothing line. I hope your ready for this, because you’re going to be very busy.”

“I’m fine I guess. I can hardly wait to tell Mom about it.”

“While you’re at it, you might ask your mother to send you to a salon. Your hair has grown long enough to style and it would be better if you showed your real hair rather than a wig. If they want they can supply you with longer hair and weave it in with extensions. You should do it as soon as possible because you’re going to have a hard time finding time for even a hairstyle.”

“I’ll ask Mom when I get home.”

It was dinnertime and I walked home. Mom had been living back home ever since Dad was moved to the semi-private room and we wouldn’t be going back to the hospital for two more days. I think Mom might be okay with me having my hair styled since I’ve been spending more time as Amanda now that I go with her to see Dad. I love the way his eyes light up when he sees me. Being Daddy’s little girl is a very special feeling.

“Mom, I’m home,” I said, as I entered the door.

“Dinner’s ready, I’m in the kitchen,” she replied.

I walked to the kitchen and saw Mom had made fried chicken, my favorite.

“Wash your hands and then we’ll eat,” Mom said.

I washed at the sink, drying my hands on the dishtowel. Mom had placed the chicken, some steamed broccoli and rice on the table. My mouth was watering.

“What’s the occasion, Mom?”

“Nothing special, except for you,” she answered.

“Mom, Mrs. Meyer got a call from the modeling agency today.”

“What did they say? Do they want to end the contract?”

“Gosh, no, in fact they want to do another photo shoot, and some clothing company wants me to model their clothes.”

“My goodness, it sounds as though you’re going to make some extra money for college.”

“That’s not all. Mrs. Meyer said I should have my hair styled. She says it’s long enough now.”

I couldn’t miss the frown on Mom’s face.

“I don’t know Mark, that’s an awfully big step for you.”

“But Mom, it will be so much easier than having to wear a wig all the time.”

“Oh Really,” she laughed. “ And what makes you think having your hair styled will make it easier for you?”

“I won’t have to care for the wig and the wig’s hot when I wear it. I’m always trying to cool my head.”

“You know, that makes sense, because I’m sure you’ll never have to brush and style your hair every morning when you get up, nor will you shampoo and condition it when you bathe or set it after you’ve wet it, No siree having your own long hair sounds like a walk in the park.”

“Mom, please, I really want this. I’m tired of wearing the wig.”

“You know if you do have your hair styled, you’re going to look like a girl all the time?”

“I look like a girl now.”

“No Mark, you look like a boy with a pretty face. Let me think about it, okay?”

“Yes Mom, but I really, really want to do this, and Mrs. Meyer said I might be able to have extensions put in too,” I said, excitedly.

“Extensions? God where did my little boy go?”

Mom talked to Gloria the next day. I don’t know what they discussed but Mom agreed to have my hair styled, extensions and all. She even agreed to have it done at a very up scale salon in San Francisco and Gloria would foot the bill. Gloria made an appointment for both Cindy and I to have our hair done at the same time. It would be fun.

We drove to San Francisco early Friday morning as our appointments were at ten in the morning. Cindy was just going to have a cut and style, but I was going to get extensions. I wasn’t finished until three in the afternoon. My hair was styled much the same as the wig, not too long but a little too mature for a twelve-year-old girl. The style was a bob that framed my face and ended just above my shoulders. It was a style I loved when I saw it. Because of the money Gloria spent they threw in a light makeover on my face. Amanda Flowers walked out of the salon, head held high; ready to take on the world.

We visited my father after my trip to the salon. He had tears in his eyes when he saw me.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world to have a daughter as pretty as you.”

“Thank you Daddy,” I said and, hugged him tightly.

The four of us stayed until visiting hours were over and then went for a bite to eat. Gloria suggested Bix, a supper club that had live Jazz, saying she knew the Manager and could get us in. True to her word we took a cab to the restaurant and entered the building.

Now, let me describe Bix. Being from Colfax, the closest thing to fine dining I had ever had was a burger at Ikeda’s on Interstate Eighty. This place took my breath away. From the outside you’d never think it would be the type of restaurant it was, it’s in an old brick building in the historic district of San Francisco. Walking through tall steel doors into the entry and then into the dinning room was an experience I’ll never forget. On the right was a long bar with people standing and laughing as they drank what ever it was they were drinking, probably cocktails. To the left was a dinning room and a stairway to the second story level of tables. At the rear was a piano player and singer entertaining the room full of people. The hostess led us to the upper level and seated us at a corner table with a Picasso sculpture in a cabinet behind the table, protected by glass. At our location we drew more than our share of stares. I had worn the short dress I had fallen so in love with during our first photo session and with my hair and makeup I felt like my father’s princess. I’m not going to draw this out, but needless to say the food was wonderful and I ate caviar for the first time. We were served little potato puffs with this black stuff on top, after I ate one and gushed about how good it was, Mom said the black stuff was caviar, fish eggs. I almost went eww, but learned it might sound gross, but it tasted so good I wanted another. There were four on the plate so we each had one.

“Amanda, there ‘s going to be more food, so don’t be disappointed that you only had one. Fine dinning is like that. You savor each plate, you’ll see, there’s no need to eat a pile of food when everything tastes so good.”

A strange thing happened halfway through the meal. A Family of four left and walked to the stairway from the other side of the restaurant. . The daughter kept looking at me and just before the family started down the stairs, she walked to our table. She appeared to be around fourteen years old and was quite pretty. Her clothes were ones I wished I owned.

She looked at me and asked, “You’re Amanda Flowers, aren’t you?”

I felt my face turning red as I answered, “Yes.”

“Oh God, I knew it. I told my mother you were, but Mother said you wouldn’t be having dinner here. I love your eyes and Mother bought me your entire line of makeup. God I’m so jealous of your lashes, you’re so pretty,” She gushed.

“Lindsey, leave the poor girl alone, we have to go.”

“Oh God, wait until I tell my girlfriends that I met Amanda Flowers, they’re going to be sooo jealous.”

Lindsey turned and walked away, leaving me speechless.