Part 7 of 29

Monday, July 8
I could hear the water singing in the pipes as Mary Ann took her shower. I had just gotten out of the shower myself. My body was dry but my crew cut was still a little bit damp. I stood in my bathrobe, eyes still glazed with sleep, a bra dangling from my hand.

MY bra.

A bra like I have worn every day for the past couple of weeks. The question that had haunted my dreams had to be answered now: do I put it on today? Looking back in this diary I see that it the first time I put on a dress was June 22. Can it be that short a time? I know I was a supposedly normal boy for eighteen years, so how come it feels so right to look like a girl after only sixteen days? Yes, I'm counting; this is a diary after all, so counting days is pretty easy. It's been fun playing at being a girl, but once I show up at the library I am committed for the summer; there will be no changing my mind part way through.

Things have changed so fast I was not sure what I wanted. Mary Ann gets a kick out of having me as a girlfriend, as long as I remember I'm her boyfriend in bed together. Grandpa Earl and Eve are so blessedly evenhanded they wouldn't say anything one way or the other. So the decision is all mine to make.

Yeah! Right! Just me and the ghosts in my head, like Dad getting all purple faced and righteous if he had even the slightest idea. Mom doing her 'concerned' look until you want to scream and Rev. Tally quoting some verse about how anything you do for pleasure is some kind of sin. Just me and my conscience.

That's not really fair, but it feels good to blame everyone else for a little while. Grandpa hasn't told me what to do one way or another, but he has shown me where to look and we've had some long and interesting philosophical discussions over dinner. Real discussions, with talk going in both directions, not the kind of discussion we had at home where Dad lays down the law and you had better not question what he says.

We talked about gender roles in society, feminism, classism, sexism, societal expectations, rebellion, conformity, civil disobedience, women's suffrage and who knows what else. It's not like I was lacking for information and background before I make the decision, but this is the first major decision about my life I have ever made for myself. That's scary! I knew I would have support whatever I chose, but I have to do the choosing.

I guess that means I have to grow up.

There's a Thomas Hardy quote that I found when reading about crossdressing: "It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs." It works the other way, I can tell you!

Ever since I have been old enough to appreciate sex (which is very different from experiencing sex!) I have been fascinated with bras. I thought I was pretty weird for a long time because of it. When the other guys talked about bras it was mostly about how to get them off of the girl wearing them. Me, I wanted to touch them.

Not that I had the nerve to do it. Not until I started hanging around Mary Ann and soaking up her family's liberal ideas, that is.

I was infected and one day I just swiped one of Mom's bras from the hamper and tried it on. It didn't fit so good, but I really didn't care. Then Mary Ann and I made love together, and I ended up living away from home with her and wearing her grandmother's clothes. Sounds like that slippery slope on the road to Hell Dad always talks about.

So why does it feel like the right thing to do?

The clothes feel good all by themselves. It doesn't matter if I'm wearing something from Sylvia's closet or my own t-shirt and jeans, wearing a bra and panties is a wonderful feeling. With the wig I look like a regular girl. I have one of those faces that doesn't scream 'male' or 'female' when you look at it. Funny, up until now I wasn't too happy with that, the guys in the locker room used to give me grief about it and make gay jokes.

I used to be worried because my voice hadn't changed all that much and I didn't have a beard yet, either. I have hair on my crotch, but none on my chin. Now I worry about when it finally happens. Some people will never be satisfied.
This summer may be the only time I can find out what being a girl means from the inside.

Then there's the thrill of doing something 'wrong'. Not evil, but if I'm going to believe Dad, this is just plain wrong. Not that he'll ever know, but I'm normal enough to get a kick from defying his authority. I love Dad, but he's awful inflexible. I still can't believe Grandpa talked him into letting me stay here.

Do I need any more reasons? It feels good, I get to learn something new and interesting and get in a little dig at Dad all at the same time.

The water has gone silent, it's been off for a while as I stood here thinking. I could follow Mary Ann's footsteps as she returned to our room. The door opened and I made my choice.

"Honey, will you fasten me up, please?
 

I guess we all thought today was a day to dress up. Grandpa is wearing his suit and Mary Ann has on a low cut flowered dress that shows off her slim waist. Me, I decided on one of Sylvia's skirted suits. If I had Mary Ann's figure I might have chosen a dress like that, but I don't want to call attention to my less than girlish body. After wearing the girdle for the big party on the 4th I am not going to wear one for a full day of working. I'm not that stupid.

Eve, who didn't have to go anywhere, was still in her bathrobe and looking positively smug.

"My, such a professional looking breakfast crowd. I'm going to have to upgrade the menu and put in a cappuccino machine to keep up appearances. Should I change to fresh roast fair trade coffee and serve parsley with the eggs?

"I'll take mine with a rasher of bacon on the side." replied Grandpa. "Only thing those low-carb crazies got right is how important bacon is to starting the day right."

"Angel, Mary Ann, close your ears to this male chauvinist, bacon eating cannibal or we will all look like pigs ourselves. I, for one, do not intend to part with my girlish figure until I am a great-grandmother."

"Quit fishing for great-grandchildren, my love. They aren't even married yet. Although I do admit I am surprised at Angel's girlish figure. You sure about this, child?"

"I think so, Grandpa."

"Ah, such a ringing endorsement of femininity!"

"Leave him alone Grandpa, you old grump." Mary Ann spoke up in my defense. "Angel knows what she's doing."

"I do? Glad you told me because I was having doubts, but I guess it's too late to change or we'll miss the bus."

"If you don't hurry up you'll miss the bus anyway. Earl, you behave yourself and don't annoy the children."

"Yes, my love and mistress. I hear and obey."
 

I was nervous when we started walking up the library steps. It suddenly struck me that I was about to meet a bunch of strangers who I would be with for the next two months. I had become comfortable with walking down the street and riding the bus without anyone realizing I was not what I appeared, but it suddenly occurred to me that if I did something male and stupid I wouldn't be able to hop a bus and leave the scene of the crime. My pace slowed and I lagged behind the others.

"Cold feet, Angel?" Grandpa inquired.

"Yeah." Might as well be honest with Grandpa.

"About time, my girl. Take thirty seconds and have a good, old fashioned panic attack, then remember that a young woman in a stylish business suit comports herself with grace and confidence at all times. One…Two… Three…" he started counting. Strangely enough by the time he hit thirty I had found some inner strength and was ready to go on.

Why not? I realized that the women's suit I was wearing was far more comfortable than the heavy, stiff, suit-and-tie my Dad forced me to wear on any formal occasion. No clunky, shiny black oxfords on my feet, rather soft and supple flats that hardly weighed anything.

I could feel the breeze blowing through my stockings and over my legs below the hem of my skirt and there was no annoying, dull, dark patterned noose around my neck, just a brightly colored scarf that swayed in the breeze. I suddenly became aware of the comforting pressure of my bra around me and realized just what a privilege life had become in the past few weeks.

"Thanks, Grandpa."

"You'll do fine, child. Sylvia is watching over you and will help you do it right."
 

Thank God for bureaucracy! I must have been introduced to two dozen people before I was there half an hour and there wasn't a hope I could remember all the names. Fortunately some nameless administrator decreed that everyone had to wear a name badge with their picture on it, so I had a fighting chance if I could see their badge. It seemed funny to hear everybody calling Grandpa "Mr. Wilson" with such respect in their tone.

So how come my picture was so god-awful ugly I wouldn't want my best friend to see it, let alone the entire population of the city when they want to use the library. Mary Ann says I look cute, but I think I look like a deer staring into the headlights of a car that's about to run me over. Besides, my wig is a mess and I should have used some makeup! The worst thing is that I will be that way forever. The picture on Grandpa's badge still has dark hair and no mustache. So much for a positive ID.

There were papers to fill out and things to read. I filled them out and somehow missed the little check boxes where you select M or F. I really don't like lying and so far no one has noticed my "mistake" on the paperwork.

There are four interns for the summer. Besides Mary Ann and me there's Chuck and Beth. Chuck is a broad shouldered guy who looks like he just came off the beach in California. Golden tan, short blonde hair, muscle shirt and the muscles to fill it out, baggy pants and sandals. A good looking dude, even Mary Ann was giving him the once over. If Mary Ann was checking him out once, then the other intern, Beth, was doing a detailed research project.

Beth had long, pale blonde hair and a spaghetti strap top so tight that you could count the stitches on her bra, whose straps were plainly visible. From the back you could see the first couple of snaps on her bra where the top scooped too low. Funny how a couple of weeks ago I would have gone crazy staring at her bra, but now I just sort of took it in as some sort of fashion tip. She completed the outfit with a bright red mini skirt and showed enough bare leg to qualify for the Rockettes.

Talk about your major dilemmas. She was well worth looking at, but my girlfriend was standing not six inches from me and people would wonder about the woman in the nice suit if she started drooling and slavering and howling over the blond babe next to her. Maybe I hadn't really thought this girl thing through as carefully as I thought I had.

Once my inner male stopped slathering, I realized that as good as she looked she really wasn't dressed for working in the library. Neither was Chuck, for that matter. I was quietly pleased that I had opted for the professional look this morning, but a part of me wished I could pull off that sexy look sometime.

Naturally there was an orientation session, but with Grandpa leading it wasn't the kind of boring lecture I had been expecting. His enthusiasm was infectious, as he led us around the huge old building we learned where things were, met all kinds of people and heard a multitude of stories about how things came to be, where the world of libraries was headed and just what we would be doing to help. This was going to be a fun summer!
 

Tuesday, July 9
Well, well. Either someone had a talk with Chuck and Beth, or they realized they needed to dress more professionally. I could still see Beth's knees but there was no danger of knowing her panty color today, (She wore blue yesterday.) nor did her bra band ride above her blouse. I had no trouble seeing the outline of her red bra, her blouse was more modest but still thin, and I enjoyed walking behind her to the second floor.

I had to laugh, though. Today I had toned down the business suit and wore a white blouse and black skirt, the kind you would associate with a wrinkled old lady librarian. Grandpa called it the 'Penguin Costume', but it looks pretty good.

I still had to cart a million books around, though.