Joan devises some special plans for a certain room in the house.

Chapter 3

Day by Day

Wednesday morning arrived and I began to worry. Things were just moving along too perfectly. Experience had taught me that the only true law was "Murphy’s Law." I finished taking my shower and got dressed. Today I was wearing my red skort. A bit showy perhaps, but I didn’t have a lot of choices. Besides, I’d discovered yesterday that the skort was perfect work wear. Especially in this warm weather. Still, I was going to need a few more of them if I wanted to avoid wearing "John’s" clothes. And yes, I’m aware that the clothes don’t make the woman!

Breakfast eaten, lunch made, I decided to check my appearance one last time before heading out the door. In for a penny, in for a pound I thought as I applied a coat of mascara to my lashes. I only wished I could wear my bra and had something to actually put in the cups besides breast forms. The ride to the shop was routine and the work day passed without incident. Paul tried to get friendly, but I felt uncomfortable under the circumstances and remained friendly but aloof. Somehow, I don’t think Mr. Ferris would approve of Paul and I becoming friends. I hadn’t seen Mrs. Ferris since I started work. I seriously wondered if I owed my job to her.

Without thinking, I rode by Sarah’s house on the way home. Did she see me? Was I becoming a complete paranoid? What was I so worried about? Hell, she already thought of me as Joan and had attempted to make my life more difficult at every turn. Maybe with her and Darla’s reconciliation she wouldn’t view me as a threat? Still, I’m sure that no matter what happened she’d know that I thought her a total creep. Some feelings you just can’t hide.

I was home by three o’clock. In a lot of ways it was like arriving home after a school day. Just a few weeks ago I’d been bounding through the door and announcing, "Mom, I’m home!" Now it was just me and the dog. There were benefits and drawbacks to both. I went into the backyard to check on Shandy. She seemed happy to see me. There’s something special about a cocker spaniel’s expression. No matter how happy she might be, her eyes always displayed a certain sadness. I sat at the picnic table and sorted through the mail. I’d been checking it diligently all week. I knew it was crazy to have done so as early as last Monday but, I was waiting for word from the bank. Finally, it had arrived. A single business sized envelope addressed to Joan Clara Johnson. I sat there holding the envelope in front of me. My hands were actually shaking in anticipation. I ripped the envelope to shreds and marveled at the blue plastic card inside with my name embossed in plastic.

I felt absolutely giddy! The bank, at least, recognized me as Joan Clara Johnson. Hmmm? JC Johnson? Jesus Christ? It made no sense at all but I was truly overwhelmed. Visions of purchases danced in my head. I had originally planned on saving most, if not all of my earnings. Now? Now I had a million different ideas of how to use the money. I had an irresistible urge to do some shopping. Before I knew it, I was surfing through the web sites on a furious shopping spree. OK, so I kept the spending under a hundred dollars. Bought everything from the clearance pages and ordered only what I deemed were necessities.

Would Mom be proud of my purchases or annoyed with me for having made them? Given my very limited amount of funds I swore to never yield to such temptation again. Still, I smiled in anticipation as I considered my purchases. Three new skorts, color-coordinated v-necked tops, a cute beach dress and some pantyhose. All for a hundred dollars! Part of me whispered, "Joan, you’ve lost your mind." If I had simply waited, I’m sure I could have convinced Mom to make the purchases for me. Still, I wouldn’t have enjoyed the experience nearly as much.

I got out the vacuum cleaner and went over all the ground floor without shuffling furniture about. I paused sadly outside the office door. I wasn’t sure I’d ever enter that room again. I began thinking about it and decided the best way to put it to rest was to totally redo the room. I hadn’t mentioned it to Mom at all. I doubted that she’d been in there. Just one more way to spend my money, I sighed as I continued to make my plans. On the top of the list: pink paint. I was going to turn Dad’s home office into a sewing room. I hoped Mom would be pleasantly surprised. I’d pick up the paint tomorrow after work at Hospin’s, the local paint store, down on Main Street.

It was nearing four thirty as I checked out the menu for the evening. I preheated the oven and got the chicken ready. Yes, I was pushing it time wise, but I didn’t think Mom would be overly upset if we didn’t eat until six thirty. I found myself somewhat elated. I was thinking about my clothes, my sewing room plans, my new account, my Sam! It seemed life was good and getting better. In that moment I decided it was OK to smoke but I was going to have to seriously limit my intake of nicotine. Yes, I had those thoughts as I fought off the desire to yield and have a cigarette.

With dinner practically making itself, I turned my thoughts back to the sewing room. Mom used to make all of my clothes when I was a little kid. It all came to a halt when she made me a pair of velvet jeans. I must have been about eight at the time and I thought they were the coolest pants I’d ever seen. Everyone, and I mean everyone, laughed at me when I wore them to school. I still remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom with the remnants of my jeans in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. I sat there with my tear soaked face and just cried and cried. Mom never made any more clothes for me after that.

I still felt bad about it. She used to love to sew. She took great pride in her work and was happy just to know that I appreciated the things she made for me. I hoped that my plans would make her happy. I was certain that she had her own demons to deal with. It didn’t take long for me to convince myself that she was going to just LOVE the new room!

Mom arrived home promptly at six o’clock. As I heard her walk in the front door I ran excitedly to greet her. "Mom!" I practically shouted "You’re home!" She smiled at me and looked at me like I was a nut case. I began babbling about my new debit card but didn’t tell her of the purchases I’d made. I shoved it in her face proudly as she sat at the table drinking her drink and smoking. "See?" I said for what must have been the fourth time "Right there it says Joan Clara Johnson."

She smiled but still a look of sadness swept over her face. "I’m so sorry John," was all she said. The roller coaster I was now riding entered a swift and sudden dip.

"What?" I all but yelled. Oh My God! What now? I wondered. I took a deep breath and said "What are you sorry for Mom?" I think I was more unnerved that she’d called me "John" than anything else.

She eyed me as only a mother could and replied, "Nothing sweetheart, it’s all right." I so wanted to believe her, that I did, and let the matter pass.

We finished dinner and I gave in to the urge to smoke as the oven racks soaked in the sink and the dish washer performed its magic. I so wanted to tell her about my plans for the office hoping that it would cheer her up. I finally decided that it would work better as a surprise, and in the end I said nothing.

"So, I see you’ve worn both of your skorts to work already," she said at last. "I guess you’re going to need some more clothes then?"

"I have all that I need Mom, for now," I assured her. I smiled as I said it and visions of green velvet jeans danced in my head.

"What are you up to this evening?" she asked.

"I thought I’d get together with Sam," I replied "But do you want to do anything?" Finally what appeared to be a genuine smile crossed her face.

"No sweetheart, you and Sam go and have a good time." I found myself beyond worried for my mother’s own sense of well being.

"Thanks Mom," I said as I continued cleaning the kitchen.

At seven thirty I called Sam and asked him just when he was coming over. He laughed his booming laugh and told me not to worry that he’d be over momentarily.

I replied, "Yea yea yea, where have I heard that before?" He laughed again and told me to just keep my skirt on.

"How do you know I’m wearing a skirt?" I asked insincerely.

"Just shut up Joan, I’ll be right there." Five minutes later he made his way through the front door as though it was his own. "Hi Joan, Hi Aunt Joan," he said upon entering. Sam grew more masculine by the day. Pretty soon he’d need a nose hair trimmer (ha ha.) God, how I loved this person! Nothing seemed impossible with Sam by my side. Sometimes I found myself worrying that it would all turn sour somehow. Was it normal to worry about such things? Damn, what was wrong with me?

"How did your practice go?" I asked sincerely. Sam went off on a diatribe about pitching. He told me with some pride that he’d been chosen to throw batting practice, but instead of letting them "just hit the ball," had thrown each and every pitch beyond the capabilities of the batters to make contact. After the fourth batter gave up in disgust, Sam was relieved of the responsibility.

"No pitcher worth his salt wants to pitch batting practice," he informed me. I found myself with conflicting thoughts. I could hit Sam’s pitching, couldn’t I? As happy as I was for him, I felt just another part of my innermost self slipping away. Part of me hated him for it, and blamed him for my own inadequacies. I was half-tempted to tell him that I could hit anything he had to throw. While that had been true just a short time earlier, I doubted that it was anymore. Sam sensed my frustration.

"What’s wrong Joan?" he asked.

What could I say that would make any sense? "Nothing Sam," I replied. I sat there and recognized my behavior for what it was. I was jealous.

"Give me a minute and let’s go for a walk," I pleaded. I made my way up to the bathroom. I wasthisclose to losing it all. I just wanted to cry. While a whole new world had opened up for me, another had shut the door. I convinced myself that none of it mattered and reapplied my makeup. I viewed myself confidently as I exited the bathroom.

"Where are you dragging me?" Sam asked.

"I thought we’d take a walk down Main Street," I replied.

I didn’t tell him of my desire to check out the paint store to see just what I was going to need to do the job. How many gallons of paint, what paint in particular, and what other tools I’d need: paint brushes, rollers, edgers, and the like. Friday was going to be "painting day!"

"Why are we standing in front of Hospin’s?" Sam asked.

Should I tell him of my plans to redecorate my father’s former office? I decided to do just that and to inform Sam that he’d be assisting me in my task.

"Are you sure you want to do that Joan? What if your Dad comes back?"

"He’s not coming back Sam. It seems Dad has made a new life for himself in a far off land: New Jersey." I nearly broke down as I relayed this bit of news.

"New Jersey?" Sam asked incredulously. "Why would anyone move to New Jersey?" The absurdity of that happening sent Sam into a fit of laughter. It seemed inappropriate, but his laughter was infectious. We stood there laughing and said the words "New Jersey" over and over again in complete synchronization till they lost all meaning.

"Come on Sam, you can help me decide on the color. One thing though, it has to be a shade of pink. It’s mom’s favorite and Dad would never let her paint the walls of any room pink." I could have probably dragged him more easily into a dress shop.

"Can I help you Miss?" said Mr. Hospin himself as I entered the store.

"I hope so," I replied casually. I then went on to explain my project. He asked me what color the room was currently when determining the amount of paint that I’d need. When I told him that the current color was some shade of "off white," he smiled and told me that one coat should do the trick.

We spent some time going over the color charts. The room was large enough to handle a bold shade of pink. A paler version simply wouldn’t accomplish the "change" that I was going after. After deciding on the color named appropriately, "Salmon," I asked just what else I’d be needing. Mr. Hospin went to great lengths in helping me compile a list. He was however, beyond annoyed when I didn’t make the purchases then and there. I did my best to assure him that I’d return tomorrow afternoon to complete my order.

He seemed so crestfallen that I actually explained just why I couldn’t take the items now. "I’m doing it as a surprise for my Mom," I said at last. That calmed him down considerably. He told me that he’d see me tomorrow afternoon and bade us farewell.

Yeah, I was going to be "saving my money," I thought cynically. If I bought everything he suggested the cost would be close to seventy five dollars. I had to check out just what we had at home before heading over there tomorrow. I completely convinced myself that Mom was going to love the new room.

I felt elated as we left the store. "You are going to help me, aren’t you Sam?"

"I’m still not convinced this is such a good idea," he said. "What if your Mom hates it? All that time, work, and money out the window. I really think you should discuss this with her first"

His advice while eminently logical had no effect on me. I was going to make this happen. If I discussed it first with Mom, then it wouldn’t be a "surprise." She’d probably come up with a zillion reasons as to why we should just leave the room as it was. No, this room was going to be my gift to her. The change would be drastic enough to wipe away any memory of the bastard that had inhabited it previously: My Dad! Suddenly I found myself in manic-depressive mode. I’d been higher than a kite moments before and now I was a blithering, whimpering idiot.

"What’s the matter Joan?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around me protectively.

I almost got mad at him for not knowing intuitively why I was so upset. My tenuous grip on reality was strong enough that I knew I couldn’t blame Sam for not understanding. I cried and shook, and shook and cried just two words over and over: "My Dad!" He held me tight right there in the middle of Main Street. Rubbing my back, he whispered warm and soothing words in my ears.

"Don’t worry about it Joan, I’ll help you. It’ll be perfect. You were absolutely right, it’s a great idea," he murmured with conviction.

I fought my way back to sanity and we began walking again. Sam looked so damned handsome this evening. I truly was the luckiest girl in the world. Without even asking, he began walking towards the ocean. With my fingers firmly entwined in his, I had no choice but to follow his lead. We entered the boardwalk at the intersection of Ocean Boulevard. The difference was like night and day. I’d never get over my love for the ocean.

"Are you hungry?" Sam asked. Once again Sam offered his cure for all ails: Food! "Would you like some ice cream?"

I really wasn’t hungry, but didn’t see how a chocolate twist could hurt. I smiled in assent at his question and we made our way to Coor’s Ice Cream stand. We sat on one of the benches staring blankly out to sea as we devoured our confections. One hand on my cone and the other in his warm embrace. I slowly began to feel better about everything. We finished up and began treading the boards.

As we walked hand in hand, Sam reminded me: "You know Joan if you’re going to enter the ski ball contest, you’d better do it now."

I hadn’t realized just how fast the Fourth of July was approaching. Thinking of all the money I’d spent or planned to spend just today, I decided that perhaps wasting ten dollars on the entrance fee was an extravagance I couldn’t afford. Sam sensed my uneasiness about parting with more cash.

"Don’t worry Joan, I’ve got your entrance fee," he said while smiling at me.

"But Sam, you’re going to put up your own money so I can beat you at ski ball?" I replied while laughing.

A punch to the shoulder was in order but Sam just squeezed my hand tighter as we made our way to the arcade. Could I let him do this? I still had no idea how much Sam’s allowance was, but like Darla, he never seemed short for cash.

"All right Sam, I’ll let you pay the buy in. But, when I win, we will share equally in the prize. Deal?" I asked. Sam did his best to remind me that I need not worry about winning. He planned on winning himself and would decide what to do with his prize when the feat was accomplished. I gave him a smile that conveyed the message: "don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched."

With the entrance fee paid, we decided to roll one game of ski ball. A quarter a game just seemed excessive to me. I was determined to make the most out of the investment. When the game was finished Sam and I had tied each other’s score. Sam wanted to play again to determine a winner, but I not-too-gently pulled him away from the machines.

We walked about lazily for a bit before heading back home. Once again we stood outside my front door. Sam no longer seemed to care if our parents were watching. We stood there holding each other for the longest time. I gently ran my hands through his short locks. I found myself adrift in the pool of his deep blue eyes. He pulled my head to his chest and held me there. Time stood still in his embrace.

"I miss you Sam," I said and meant it.

He looked at me inquisitively. Hadn’t we just spent the entire evening together? Then he smiled and replied, "I miss you too."

I stood there watching him as he made his way across the street and inside. A happy thought occurred to me. I waltzed in the door announcing, "Mom, I’m home!"

"Good. You’re here. I was beginning to get worried about you."

"Worried about me? Mom, it’s not even ten o’clock!"

Realizing that she was overreacting she backtracked and said, "Well, it is a work night, isn’t it?"

I laughed and gave her a hug. I then told her about our evening at the boardwalk. I so wanted to tell her about my painting plans, but was determined for it to be a surprise.

"Mom, Joan entered the Fourth of July ski ball contest," I said proudly.

"So, now you’re referring to yourself in the third person?" She asked and laughed.

"No, Mom, I didn’t mean it like that," I attempted to explain.
"It’s all right Joan, I understand. I was just teasing you a bit."

We talked for a few minutes longer and then I remembered that I had some things to check out before heading to bed. I made my way into the basement and checked out the paint supplies. Whew! I wouldn’t be needing any ceiling white or any trim white. We had all the necessary tools for the job with the exception of some paint rollers. That meant all I needed was a couple of gallons of paint. Yes! I exclaimed aloud.

I decided that I’d locate mom’s sewing machine tomorrow when I got home. I think she’d tucked it away in the back of her closet. I wanted the room to be perfect when she viewed it on Friday. I was literally bubbling with excitement.

"Joan," my mother stopped me as I ascended the stairs to get ready for bed.

"Come here for a minute," she said in a gentle manner as opposed to the commanding voice she used when ordering me in front of her.

I slowly made my way into the living room wondering if she had guessed my plans to redecorate the office. I stood in front of her waiting; silently and expectantly.

"Don’t look so worried," she laughed. "I just wanted to tell you that it "is" the summer and you’re going to be fourteen in a few weeks. You don’t have to be in bed till eleven.

Was she saying that hoping that I’d sit and spend some more time with her? I hadn’t had a nap in a few days and I was feeling kind of tired. I found myself thinking that it was school that made me want to sleep. I chuckled at the thought.

"Thanks Mom. I really appreciate it. But, it’s been a long day and I think I’m going to turn in unless you wanted to talk some more?"

"That’s all right sweetheart. You go and get some rest. A girl needs her beauty sleep." I half expected her to laugh with that last comment but she offered it up seriously.

"Good night Mom," I said as I hugged and kissed her. I hoped she knew just how important she was to me. I made my way up to my room and Shandy followed closely behind.

"You didn’t get enough attention today, girl?" I asked her. She looked up at me and seemed to smile as her tail began wagging. I opened my door and before I could hit the light switch Shandy jumped up on my bed and rolled over. I gently stroked her belly and cooed at her. The look in her eyes expressed unconditional love.

"I love you too girl," I said and bade her goodnight.

I finished getting ready for bed, set my alarm clock, and found myself drifting off in Josam’s embrace.

"Joan, are you there?" a disembodied voice called to me. "Help me!" it exclaimed. I searched for the location of the voice. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t tell who it was calling me. "Help me!" It implored only this time much louder than before. Although it was a warm summer’s evening, I began shivering. I sensed total desperation in its plea. Something about that voice was hauntingly familiar. I reached over and turned on my light. Suddenly the room fell silent. I actually got out of bed and checked everywhere: under the bed, in the closet, out the window. Everywhere! I finally convinced myself that I must have been dreaming. I crawled back into bed and turned out the light. I half expected the whole episode to play itself out all over again. It didn’t. I cautiously fell back to sleep.

Thursday passed in a blur. I was beyond pleasantly surprised when Mr. Ferris handed me five crisp twenty dollar bills at the end of my shift.

"Now, don’t spend it all in one place," he chuckled. "Oh, and Joan, I just wanted to say you’ve done a great job this week. Don’t forget, I expect you here at nine o’clock sharp on Monday morning.

"I won’t Mr. Ferris," I replied as I put the money in my purse. He eyed me curiously as I did that but made no comment. If he had, I’d have replied, "A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do."

I was glad for the money. This way I wouldn’t have to worry about asking Mr. Hospin if he accepted debit cards. I was pretty sure that he was going to be a bit disappointed that I wouldn’t be needing all the items he’d suggested last evening. I pedaled joyfully to the paint store. I was absolutely certain that Mom was going to love her new room.

I entered the store as I’d done last evening. "Hi, Mr. Hospin," I said.

He looked at me as if he had no idea who I was. I was dressed more shabbily than I’d been last night. I guessed that was the reason for the confused look on his face.

"I was in here last night?" I reminded him. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then a twinkle appeared in his eyes.

"Ah yes! The salmon paint. A surprise for your mother. My, but you looked quite different last night," he intoned. I laughed and told him I was just coming home from work.

" I didn’t realize there were any coal mines on the oceanfront," he said chuckling. "You are an industrious young lady. Your parents must be very proud." As soon as he’d said it, I could tell that he had regrets. He knew somehow that I was living alone with my mother.

"I’m sorry dear," he said as my eyes welled up with tears.

"It’s all right Mr. Hospin."

"Are you going to be needing all the items we discussed then?" He asked. I then explained that I’d only be needing the two gallons of paint and appropriate rollers. He didn’t seem disappointed at all as he rang up my purchases.

I hadn’t even made it home yet and I was already down to sixty dollars and change. I placed one gallon on each side of my handlebars and tied the rollers and the paint mixers to the back. I just knew this was all going to work out perfectly! I pulled my bike into the back yard and took the paint in through the kitchen. If Mom hadn’t been working all these extra hours, there’s no way I’d have been able to do this.

I stood anxiously in the office holding the two gallons of paint. At length, I placed the paint and the other materials far back in the corner of the closet. I’d never painted with a roller before. How hard could it be? I knew I was good with a brush. In fact, the last time any painting had been done, I was the one assigned to do the trim. I was a lot more careful with a brush than my father had ever been.

I checked out the menu for the evening. There was nothing listed. I guessed that meant that we’d be eating leftovers. There was more than enough chicken for another meal. I was glad as I now had time to scope out Mom’s sewing tools. I found her discarded mannequin in a corner of the basement. It was sitting atop the table that used to accommodate her sewing machine. The room would need one more item. An item I had no way of obtaining on just my bicycle. A full length mirror would be needed behind the office door.

I really needed to make a list of weekly chores. As it was, I was just doing whatever came to mind on the spur of the moment. I’d done all the inside windows yesterday. I decided to get the step ladder and do the ground floor exterior windows. I hoped Mom appreciated the effort that I was making. Before heading outside, I stripped the beds and put the linens in the wash. I was becoming a regular Suzy Homemaker. The fact of the matter was, I took pride in my ability to help. Really help, not just take out the trash when the can was full. I was still working on the windows outside when Mom came pulling up the driveway. Where had the afternoon gone?

"Joan, what are you doing up there?" Mom asked from ground level.

"What does it look like I’m doing? Do you think these windows clean themselves?" I asked her with mock sincerity.

She laughed in reply and simply said, "You shouldn’t have."

I left Mom to fend for herself and finished the ground floor windows. After I’d put the ladder away and cleaned out the pail I went back inside. Mom was busily re-heating our dinner.

"You did a lovely job Joan. There’s not a streak on any of the windows!" She praised me as if I’d just invented sliced bread.

"Thanks Mom, anything I can do to help," I told her sincerely.

She told me about her day as we sat at the table. She asked me how I planned spending my money and my long weekend off. Could I tell her that I’d already spent one hundred and forty dollars of the hundred I’d earned? I laughed at the thought. That sounded a bit too much like government accounting.

"I guess I’ll save some of it Mom," I told her.

"Some of it? Just what are you going to do with a hundred dollars?" she gasped. The way she said it, it sounded like all the money in the universe. I laughed aloud at the reality of the situation.

On consideration she laughed with me and said, "I guess you’re right. A hundred dollars doesn’t buy much these days."

"Since you’re now gainfully employed, you won’t be expecting your allowance for the rest of the summer, will you?" She asked. I wouldn’t WHAT??? I did the quick mental math and kissed two hundred and forty dollars goodbye.

"I guess not Mom," I said dejectedly.

"Now, don’t be like that Joan. You know that money’s tight right now and that extra twenty a week will certainly help out around here." I had no idea that things were this bad. Wasn’t Dad helping out with his end? Didn’t the law require that he provide for me at least financially? Had he run out on that obligation too?

"I’m sorry Mom. I wasn’t thinking." Try as I might, I couldn’t get the thought of feeling sorry for myself out of my mind. I shook my head from side to side in an attempt to clear it.

And then I remembered. It was Thursday evening. I was supposed to go over to Darla’s this evening. Did she remember? Would Sam be angry? Somehow, I didn’t think Sam would be averse to me spending time with girls any longer. He now viewed me as one of them as I did proudly, myself.

"Mom, is it OK if I go over to Darla’s this evening? We made plans last weekend to see each other tonight and I simply forgot to ask you. In fact, I’m not really sure if Darla still remembers. Anyway, is it all right?"

"Of course it’s all right sweetheart. Just make sure that you’re home by ten."

I finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. I was in a hurry as I bounded the stairs to call Darla up and ask her if she remembered our plans.

"Raspberry residence," said Darla upon answering. Now, I know she had caller ID so why was she answering the phone in such a formal manner? I thought for a moment that maybe she figured it was my mother calling and a more formal tone was required.

I made a "slurping" sound into the phone.

"Joan, what was that?" she asked.

"Why I was just blowing you a "raspberry." I replied and laughed. A moment of silence ensued. Oh crap! Had I insulted her? That really wasn’t my intention.

"Joan," she whispered seriously. "It’s not funny."

"I’m so sorry Darla," I began. "Can you ever forgive me?" I begged.

With that she burst into a fit of giggles. Oh my God! She was having me on!

"Darla you nasty little expletive deleted!" I screamed at her. She kept giggling and I finally joined in.

"So, did you forget our date for this evening?" I asked.

"No, I didn’t," she replied. "In fact, I expected you here half an hour ago."

"Darla, are you winding me up again?" Silence filled the airwaves yet again.

"OK," I said at last. "I’ll be there in half an hour, all right?"

She giggled into the phone one more time and told me that would be perfect. I hung up and ran like a madwoman into the bathroom. I hadn’t removed the sheets from the dryer. Fortunately, I’d put fresh linens on the beds. I washed my face and did my makeup as fast as I could.

My skorts were both dirty and I wasn’t about to go peddling over to her house wearing my blue pleated skirt. I tore through my dresser in search of a pair of cutoffs. Finding none, I opted for a pair of jeans. My GV jeans were clean. Whew! I quickly donned them and selected one of my new pink tops to wear. I decided to go all out. I ripped off the top, put on my bra, and put my breast forms in the cups. The v necked top looked a lot better when I was finished. I ran back into the bathroom and put a coat of pink on my lips. I really wanted to wear the dark red but I didn’t want to encounter any objections from my mother. I had less than ten minutes to get to Darla’s house.

I bade Mom farewell, grabbed my purse and retrieved my bike from the backyard. I pedaled furiously over to her house. I arrived with a minute to spare. I really hated to be late.

"Joan!" she exclaimed as I came up the driveway. "You really do need a girl’s bike," she said and laughed.

I thought about that for a moment. I’d never really considered the difference before. Suddenly, it hit me. The lower support bar was to make getting on and off easier while wearing a skirt.

"This bike’ll do just fine," I replied.

She ran over to me and gave me a hug which suggested we hadn’t seen each other in months.

"I’ve really missed you," she said urgently.

"Well, I was only a phone call away. Besides, I did stop over twice during the week to see you. You couldn’t have missed me too much as you weren’t here either time."

She laughed at that and told me that had she known I was coming that she’d have been there.

"What’s new with you?" I asked her.

"Shut up a minute and just let me look at you! You look quite grown up despite arriving by bicycle," she said and laughed.

"Why thank you Darla," I said and gave her air kisses on both of her cheeks.

She laughed again and beckoned me inside.

"What do you want to do? You want to go up to my room?" I looked about for any sign of parents. There was none.

"Joan, you don’t need to worry about permission. My parents have accepted you for who you are. You are more than welcome to come upstairs without an invitation from the Drs. Raspberry."

I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved or dismayed. I decided that I liked feeling relieved better and went with that feeling. As we made our way up the stairs Darla took hold of my hand and began talking about all she’d been up to during the week.

"Where’s your cousin tonight?" I asked her.

"Dani went out shopping with Mom," she replied.

"You mean you voluntarily skipped a shopping trip?"

"I can go shopping anytime. I’d rather spend some time with you."

Her response had me blushing. I told her about my week. I didn’t leave out any details including how things were going with Sam and my plans to redecorate the former office tomorrow.

"Do you need any help?" she asked when I finished my tale.

I sure could use some help. Then, I thought about it. Sam and Darla together in the same room. How would that work out? Hell, it would have to be better than me in a room with Sam and Billy.

"I’d love some help. Do you know how to use a paint roller?" I asked her.

"Piece of cake," she replied and laughed. "Actually Joan, I’ve never done any painting but, I’ve seen it done often enough. It looks pretty simple to me."

We were in total agreement. I only hoped that we were both right. I spent the next half hour telling her about the new sewing room. I also told her the story of the "green velvet jeans" Mom made for me all those years ago. Tears welled up in my eyes as I finished.

"Thank you for sharing that with me. I had no idea." Her comment reassured me, but also made me wonder. She had no idea about what?

"What do you mean?" I asked sincerely.

"I mean, I had no idea that you’ve always been Joan. I thought that your metamorphosis had only recently taken place. It seems to me that based on your tale you’ve felt like a girl for most of your life. I’m only surprised that you never realized it."

I sat there in stunned silence. Had she been right? Had I been working towards this goal my whole life without even realizing it? I honestly wasn’t sure. Darla sat there waiting for me to say something.

"Maybe," was all I could manage.

"Joan, it’s all right. Don’t you see? I understand exactly what you’re going through. You thought that my becoming a girl was a personal tragedy. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Mom and Dad knew I was different. They could have just as easily kept me a boy. Sure, I’d be urinating through a prosthesis, but with the appropriate hormonal supplements I could have grown into some semblance of manhood. They knew that I’d be far happier this way. And, they were right."

My tears began flowing as I questioned every move I’d ever made up to this point in time. I really wasn’t sure about my past motivations. I only knew that I was now female. Unlike Darla’s situation, mine was a personal choice. I couldn’t imagine ever going back to being "John" again.

"It’s all right baby, you go ahead and cry," she whispered as my tears continued to spill. I was starting to become angry with myself. It seemed I cried at the drop of a hat anymore. I’d have to learn how to better control my emotions. I hoped that as all of this became more normal for me that the emotional swings would end.

Changing the subject I asked her, "Darla, do you know where I could get some cheap paintings?" I’d been studying the fine artwork on her walls as I asked her.

She laughed and replied, "Joan, those are NOT cheap paintings."

"I didn’t mean to imply that they were…" I said sincerely. Slowly my voice trailed off.

"It’s all right Joan," she said and laughed again. She stood up and began walking out of the room. I followed her down the stairs wordlessly. She led me down into the finished basement. Upon opening a small room at the bottom of the stairs I let out a gasp as I looked inside. There were literally stacks and stacks of oil paintings strewn about the room. I felt like I’d entered a miniature art gallery.

"Oh my God!" I said as I viewed the beautiful paintings.

"You like?" she asked and laughed again.

"Indeed I do," I said as I pored over the paintings. "But, why are you showing them to me?"

"I’ve got an idea," she said and told me to pick out two that I liked best.

"I couldn’t possibly, could I?"

"Just be quiet and pick out two of them," she said again.
I viewed the canvases carefully. A floral scene with roses of varying colors caught my eye. Another of a forest also made me swoon. I chose those two and waited to see what she had in mind.

"OK Darla, now what?" I asked her as I presented the two masterpieces for her inspection.

"You have excellent taste. My plan is simply this. You know that jewelry box you’ve promised my mother? You make it double the size of the original plan and build it out of oak. I think I can convince my mother that it’s a good deal."

The girl drove a hard bargain. I’m sure it was a good deal. I just wasn’t sure who was getting the better of it. The cost for materials alone for the box she suggested would surely cost me a pretty penny. I sighed and reluctantly accepted her offer.

"Can you bring the paintings with you tomorrow?" I begged. I wanted Mom’s room to be perfect for her initial inspection.

"Well, we have to clear this with my mother first. I’m pretty sure that she’ll go for it though. Mom changes the art in the house from time to time but I don’t recall ever seeing either of the paintings you’ve selected hanging anywhere in the house."

We made our way up to the kitchen. Darla poured us some coffee and we sat there drinking and smoking. She seemed quite surprised when I pulled my pack of smokes out of my purse. She smiled at me as we continued to talk of our plans for tomorrow.

Aunt Vivian and Danielle arrived home minutes later. Darla quickly jumped up and told her mother about the bargain that we’d made.

"Oh, those old things? I’ve been meaning to throw them out." She quickly regretted saying it. Her trash was my treasure.

"I’ll tell you what Joan," she said reconsidering. "You can have the paintings in exchange for your efforts on my jewelry box. I’ll leave the design to you. But, I absolutely insist on paying for any and all materials." I sighed audibly and thanked her profusely.

"Thanks Aunt Vivian," I said and ran over to give her a hug.

"So Darla? Can you bring the paintings over tomorrow?"

"Why don’t you take them now Joan?" Aunt Viv asked me.

At that point I was required to explain the entire situation and Mom’s surprise. Aunt Viv’s eyes lit up as I finished my tale.

"I’m sure she’s going to love it!" She stated emphatically.

I looked at the clock and noticed that time was running short. I had fifteen minutes to get my fanny home. That shouldn’t pose any problem since I had my bike with me.

"Nice to see you again Danielle," I said as I headed for the door. "Thanks again Aunt Viv," I added as an afterthought.

"So Darla, you’re going to be over by ten o’clock right?" I said laughing hopefully.

"Don’t worry Joan, I’ll be there."

She hugged me again and did the air kiss thing. It was beginning to become second nature to me as I returned the gesture. With a little more than ten minutes remaining, I pedaled homeward.