Part 16 of 29

Sunday, August 25, 2013
Mom called again today. This time her voice was not as strained, for that matter neither was mine. We just chatted, nothing special. She got a great laugh out of Grandpa proposing to Eve and even took my wearing Sylvia's engagement ring better than I expected.

I got the feeling she was working up to saying something as we lingered on the line. Finally she asked "Angel, do you have plans for the holiday weekend?"

"We're marching in the Labor Day Parade with the Liar's Club on Monday, but otherwise we haven't any real plans."

"I would like to come and visit with you."

"I'd like that too, Mom. What are you going to do about Dad?"

"I'm very much afraid he will be vexed with me."

"And I thought Grandpa Wilson was a master of understatement!"

"I suppose that's true. He was very angry when I told him I was going to visit you. He is still very confused and angry."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Don't say you're sorry, darling. You are following where the Lord is leading you, just as he is. It's not your fault if you are following separate paths to salvation. I can't say I understand your choices, but I did go to the library and read some of the books you told me about. While your father was at work, of course."

"Do you hide them under the mattress like I used to hide the books I didn't want you to see?"

"Of course not. I found those books of yours when I made the bed and talked to Rev. Tally about them. He told me that even though reading them could be considered a sin, most young boys had to try sinning a time or two just to see what it was like. He told me that you would tire of them pretty quickly and he was right."

"How in the world did I ever think I could hide anything from you, Mother?"

"You can't, darling. Mother knows."

"More than I thought, apparently."

"Of course!"

"So - what did you think?"

"I think I will reserve judgment until I can read a bit more. Then I'll ask God for guidance and accept His will."

"Then I'll wait until we can talk some more. It will be really good to see you again, Mom."

"I think it will be nice to meet my new daughter and get to know her. And Mary Ann, too. Just what do I call you two if you're engaged and both look like women?"

"How about Mary Ann and Angel?"

"I guess I had that coming. I love you, Angel. Give my love to Mary Ann and her grandparents. I'll be there on Saturday."

"We'll have a room waiting for you. And by the way, you're invited to join us in the parade, you'll love your costume!"

"Costume? Angel, what are your planning? How will you know my sizes"

"Well, I did wear your clothes when you weren't home sometimes."

"You didn't! My clothes?"

"I'm afraid so. They didn't fit too well."

"Enough! I think I've had enough shocks for one day. I'm going to hang up and try to get some rest."

"I love you, Mom.

"I love you too, Angel"
 

Wednesday, August 28
I know I haven't written in a while, but that's because nothing much happened. We're taking advantage of a week with nothing to do by doing nothing.

Today we had the fitting for our costumes. I have never been to a costume shop before, I never knew something like this existed. They have enough stock to clothe a small country in the 3rd world. Naturally they're completely authentic (Grandpa's cronies do things right, as I saw on the 4th of July) and I learned that wearing a girdle is a picnic compared to wearing a corset. How did they breathe? How did they work 10 and 12 hour days wearing one of those things?

For authentic 1911 underwear you start with a pair of 'drawers', which aren’t nearly as nice as modern panties. They cover you from waist to knees, and then the camisole covers you from the waist upward. That layer protects your skin when you put on the corset and have someone squeeze all the air out of your lungs. Then you get someone to tie it up in back so you can't get it off by yourself.

I discovered I have a real problem wearing authentic lingerie. They didn't have bras back then, they weren't invented until 1913. The corset sort of acted as a shelf for your breasts and then you covered them up with layers and layers of camisoles and chemises and such, enough to need an engineering drawing to figure out what goes where.

When you're all done you get the 'one lumpy breast' look you see in the pictures from the era. I cheated and left my bra on for the fitting. The guy who did the fitting us didn't comment on the breast forms or anything else he saw. Professionalism, I guess that's called.

I'm going to have to get a lightweight bra for the parade. I've been wearing what you might call heavy duty bras, not like Mary Ann's sexy things, so that my breast forms won't fall out. Real breasts would be so nice. Sigh!

So anyway, after all those layers came more layers of petticoats and finally the skirt and blouse. If I were going to be a higher-class woman of the era I could wear a beautiful, full dress, but I'm going to be a working girl. That means an ankle length, full dark skirt and a white blouse with poufy long sleeves and a high collar. Some of them even wore narrow little ties but I gave up ties when I decided to be Angel the woman.

If I thought the lacing was over when they finished with my corset I was wrong. The boots went practically to my knees and I couldn't lace them because I couldn't bend over in the corset. It took half an hour to get undressed and it's a team project; you can't do it by yourself.
 

Friday, August 30
So what if we're officially done with the internship? We all came in anyway and set up our display so it was ready for the weekend. Books and pictures in the display case, even an authentic reproduction shirtwaist, which is nothing more than a tailored blouse, on a mannequin. There were several stacks of handouts, a pile of Union bumper stickers that we had gotten from the local Labor Council and Internet references. Pretty good, even if I do say so myself.
 

Saturday, August 31
This morning I was as nervous as a cat. I changed outfits three times, trying to find something that would look nice for my mother but wasn't too feminine. Being the weekend it should be casual but with Mom coming I wanted to look dressy. But I didn't want to wear anything she wouldn't approve of. Stupid, huh? No matter what I wore she wasn't going to be happy, not unless I decided to return to being Angel the Boy.

Too late for that. I'm committed, but I still kept worrying. Mary Ann finally chased me out of the bedroom and told me I looked just fine. The day had turned cool so I finally settled on a maroon corduroy skirt and a knobbly brown sweater. Mary Ann told me I was silly to wear stockings and flats but Mom never liked it when girls who wore sneakers and socks with their skirts. She says if they're going to take the trouble to look like a lady they should finish the job.

Somehow I don't think she had me in mind when she said that.

I've gotten pretty good at styling my wigs and spent a lot of time putting my hair up, then decided I looked more feminine with it down, so I put it back down. I chose a pair of earrings with crystal hearts dangling from a gold chain. I think they compliment the diamond in my engagement ring nicely. Anyway, I couldn't change them without Mary Ann giving me grief.

Mary Ann wore a skirt and sweater too, in a gold color, but she wore her sneakers and socks. Well, Mom is going to have other things to look at today, I doubt she'll give much thought to Mary Ann's choice of footwear.

Mom arrived this afternoon. It was awkward at first, but Grandpa and Eve made her welcome and turned on their charm full blast. She still looks at me with a puzzled face, we both have a lot of adjusting to do. I think it bothers her when Mary Ann and I hug or kiss. I hadn't thought of that ahead of time. It seems so natural to hug her, but to Mom it must look like we're lesbians. We agreed to keep it very low key when Mom was around, but we were not going to hide our love either. Not that we could.

We settled Mom in the spare room that used to hold Sylvia's things. What I haven't used had been given to the Salvation Army or Goodwill so it's pretty much empty.

Mary Ann and I cooked dinner tonight - as fancy as we could come up with. I hope Mom was being truthful when she said she loved it. Grandpa and Eve were appreciative, so I guess we did a pretty good job. Eve says the true test of love is cooking in the same kitchen and still liking each other after dinner. We passed test.

We made it through the evening without so much as a word about gender one way or another. Grandpa is a master at stimulating and controlling the conversation, a skill honed over many years presiding over the Liar's Club. By the time he got done telling the story of my first encounter with Mr. Pymm. Mom was laughing along with the rest of us. The way he told it was even funnier than when it happened.

Eventually we were all yawning mightily, so we headed for the bedrooms. As Mary Ann went into our bedroom I could tell Mom had something she wanted to say but it was clear she was having a hard time saying it.

"You have that look that says you need to say something. Go ahead and say it."

"Angel, I'll only say this once and I won't say it again. You are an adult now and can make your own decisions, but I am disappointed that you chose not to wait until you were married before you had relations with Mary Ann. Jesus tells us not to judge others and I'm trying to follow His word, but I wanted you to know how I felt. I love you, but sometimes it can be difficult."

I just hugged her and told her I loved her. This time I didn't apologize, I'd done that enough already. You have to live with the choices you make in life. I'm sure I am making the right choice, but that doesn't mean it is easy.
 

Sunday, September 1
Mary Ann and I went to church with Mom this morning. I haven't been since I left home, and it was a strange experience. I suspect is was just as strange for Mary Ann, but she's not saying much about it right now. Mostly because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings, I think.

I enjoyed dressing up in my 'Sunday Best', something I had never experienced when I had to wear a suit to church. I decided on one of Sylvia's simple business suits with a modest skirt and white blouse. Simple pearl earrings (not real pearls!) and matching necklace and black flats. Mom wore almost the same outfit, but she had real pearls. She hadn't noticed I had pierced my ears but since I wore a short wig she couldn't help but notice them that morning. We got a good laugh out of the situation and she even commented about how well her daughter had learned from her mother.

Daughter. We're still tentative, but there's hope.

In some ways it felt good, an old familiar place even if the building was one I had never been in before. I found I can't sing too well in my Angel the Woman voice, I can't get up high enough on some of the hymns. Poor Mary Ann, she was completely lost since she doesn't go to church but Mom and I knew all the hymns. The sermon was rather anemic, Rev. Tally is a much better speaker, but to my surprise I enjoyed the service.

I guess you can't just abandon everything in your life so easily. I can question what Dad has thinks, what the Church told me, what Society says about what men and women should be like, but I'm coming to realize that there is some good buried among the bull. Grandpa says that's what they call maturity.

We went to the movies and out to dinner, nothing special except that Mom is starting to treat me like someone who won't break if she acts naturally. Mary Ann and I often pass a little comment to each other when some situation would be funny if anyone knew I wasn't really a woman, and Mom seems to have picked up on that and threw a couple of zingers at me.

It's nice to be loved as a real person. I hope Dad sees that sometime.