Child's Play
by Kelly Davidson

 

When I was eleven (11) years old I was friends with a little girl named Lisa who lived across the street. We were about the same age and in general, like the same things. In fact, she was a tomboy who dressed pretty much like the other boys in our neighborhood. But every once in a while her mother (who looked like Jill Taylor from the show, "Tool Time") would make her wear a dress. I used to admire Lisa clothes and wish I could try them on. There was a red dress in particular that caught my eye. I would spend hours dreaming of playing dress-up with Lisa and trying on her clothes. But Lisa was more into doing boy things than playing dress-up or house, so I knew my dream would never happen. Or would it?

One day I learned that Lisa and her parents were leaving for an overnight trip to visit her grandparents. Her father was looking for a new job in another city so they could be closer to them. This meant the house would be empty for an entire day; all I had to do was find a way in. I decided then and there that I was going to enter their house while they were gone and try on some of Lisa's clothes. A plan formed in my mind and I put it into action. The night before they left, I went over to play with Lisa and made sure one of the basement windows was unlocked.

The next morning I woke up in time to see Lisa getting into the car and watching it drive away. As soon as the car turned the corner the excitement inside me started to build. Today was the day I would get the chance to try on some girl’s clothes. Oh, I had worn some of my mother’s stuff before but everything was always too big. Now I was going to wear something in "MY" size.

I wanted to leave right then, but two fears held me up. First, I was afraid if I left too early my mom would get suspicious and watch to see where I was going. Second, I was concern that Lisa's family may come right back. Despite my enthusiasm, I somehow waited until 9 a.m. before making my move.

After telling my mother I was going out to play, I calmly trotted over to Lisa's backyard. Making sure no one was looking; I slid behind a bush that hid the unlocked window. I sat there for moment, wondering if anyone had noticed the window was unlocked and had re-locked it. But when I pushed on the window it open right up.

I slid myself into the basement and locked the window behind me. The house was quiet and spooky and for the first time I felt guilty about what I was doing. True, I wasn't planning to steal or damage anything still, I knew what I was doing was wrong. Despite my guilt, the excitement of trying on some of Lisa's clothes over came what I was feeling. Cautiously, I walked upstairs while carefully checking to make sure no one else was home. Convinced I was alone, I walked into Lisa's room.

It was your typical girl’s room except there were more boys’ toys lying about than girl’s toys. I stood in front of the closet for 30 full seconds just thinking, ‘This had been so easy.’ I couldn't believe that something so forbidding and beyond my wildest dreams was about to come true.

I grab the knob and slowly open up the closet door in anticipation. There hanging in front of me were a number of pretty dresses, some that I had never seen Lisa wear before. I was like a kid in a candy store; I didn't know which one to try on first. Then I spotted the red dress I liked so much. It was a simple dress, with white bows on the sleeves, and just long enough to cover my thighs. I reached out and grabbed it off the hanger.

Holding it up in front of me, I stood in front of the mirror trying to see how it would look. I hadn't even tried anything on and yet I couldn't remember a happier day in my life. I felt so soft and feminine in my hands and I had to try it on. But just as I was getting ready to take off my shirt I heard someone asked, "So Jeff, did you find anything in ‘YOUR’ size?"

I turned to see Mrs. Smith standing in the doorway with an amused look on her face. No doubt she had seen the whole thing however, I quickly put the dress behind my back in a poor attempt to hide it.

"Mrs. Smith," I shouted out. "What are you doing here?".

Without changing her expression she replied, "I decided to stay home and get caught up on my needlework. Lisa decided that she would rather visit her grandparents while her father looked for a job than stay here with me. Now, the ten thousand dollar question is, what are you doing here young man?"

I didn't know what to say. Even though I had been caught red-handed I wasn't about to admit the real reason for being there. I did some quick thinking and blurted out, "I couldn't find my baseball this morning and thought maybe I had left it over here last night".

"Humm, I see." She smiled even more. "And what's that behind your back?"

"Nothing." I answered nervously. I clutched the dress tighter; hoping this would cause it to disappear.

She walked over to where I was standing and bent down. "Looks like something to me. Come on now Jeff, let go of it. Let me see what it is."

She pulled the dress out of my hands that were behind my back and held it up in front of me. "This doesn't look like a baseball to me," she said with a big grin. "What were you planning to do with Lisa's dress?"

"Well, you see," I stuttered, trying to think up a good story, "I knocked it off the hanger by accident and it fell to the floor. So I...picked it up...and was checking to make sure it wasn't dirty before I put it back."

It might have been a good story if I had been able to tell it convincingly. Unfortunately, Mrs. Smith saw right through it.

"I see," she replied getting down on her knees and holding the dress up right to me. "Nope, it looks clean to me. I like this dress. Lisa looks real cute in it. You know, I hadn't realized it before but you and Lisa are about the same size. I bet you could wear this dress if you wanted to."

The words made me freeze. Had I really heard her right? Was she implying it was all right with her if I tried it on? Or was she waiting to see how I would reply before yelling at me for breaking into her house? I stood there not know what to say. Mrs. Smith had always been a nice lady to me but then, I had never been in trouble with her before.

Sensing my fear, Mrs. Smith smiled softly and in a low voice said, "Don't worry Jeff, I'm not going to tell anyone what happen. I know you're a nice kid." She paused for a moment to stared at me then she spoke the words I had dreamed of hearing. "And if you want, I could dress you up as my ‘little’ girl."

A cold chill of excitement ran down my spine. Had I really heard her right? Was she being sincere or was this a trap?

Still afraid to show my true feelings, I played her last comment off as a joke. Giving her a weak smile I replied, "Well, I guess that would depend on what you made me wear?"

"What do you mean?" she asked mischievously.

"You heard the saying...your mother dresses you funny." I responded, trying to sound humorous while hiding my excitement.

She smiled sweetly and said, "Why I would dress you in the most beautiful dress, with ribbons and bows...and frilly panties...lace anklets and black paten leather shoes. Wouldn't you look just adorable? You'd be the ultimate in femininity...for a little girl, I mean."

My mind went numb. I wanted to scream out, ‘Yes, yes. I'll do it!’, but was afraid of what she would do if I sounded too eager. After all, my parents could never accept my desire to dress up. With years of living in fear under my belt it was hard to believe someone was willing to let me live out my dream and not judge me for it. I tried to find the words but couldn't. Finally she spoke.

"There are a few rules we need to get worked out. First, we can't tell anyone about what we do today. It’ll be our little secret.

"Second, you’ll spend the day here until it's time to go home for supper. I'll call your mom to let her know where you are so she won't worry.

"Third, your name will be...let’s see, how about Susanna Marie Smith. I’ve always wanted another little girl so I could give her that name. You on the other hand will refer to me as mommy.

"Finally, you will have to act like a good little girl. That means listening and doing what I tell you to do even if you don't want to. Are we clear on these rules?"

I nodded out a "yes" and tried to appear more relaxed. I didn't realize it but the last rule would come back to haunt me later.

"Now, would you like to see the outfit I have in mind?" she asked pleasantly.

I nodded silently and for the first time began to wondered what I had gotten myself into. She smiled, got up off her knees, and took my hand.

"Okay, come with me dear." I was beginning to believe that Mrs. Smith was looking forward to this just as much as I was.

 

Part II

She led me down the hallway into a spare bedroom. "I got this outfit so Lisa could compete in the Little Miss's contest at the local fair next month. But being such a tomboy, I had to fight with her just to try it on. ‘It was too girlish’, as she called it, to wear for any period of time outside the contest. What do you think?"

Mrs. Smith pulled from the closet one of the prettiest dresses I had ever seen. It was light pink and made out of a silky material with white lace and bows attached all over it. The dress had a white, lacy collar garnisheed with small, white bows. The shoulders of the sleeves were widely puffed out but came together midway down the arm and ended at the elbows. On the ends of the sleeves were little white bows and lace.

From the collar down to where the skirt began the dress had a light, flower pattern on it. The skirt of the dress was actually two skirts, the lower being just a plain, pink color made out of the silky material. The top skirt covered the bottom skirt completely and was made out of a semi-transparent, silky pink lace with the same flower design as on the top part of the dress. At the hem of the skirt small, feminine bows were fixed to it. Around the waist was a wide, white ribbon that was tied into a big bow in the back.

"You'll need this to get the skirt to spread out," Mrs. Smith said as she grabbed a lacy petticoat from the closet. "I think the rest of the stuff we can find in Lisa's room. Let’s go back there and get you dressed."

She pushed the petticoat into my arms and carefully picked up the hanger that held the dress. I followed her back down the hallway into Lisa's room carrying the pile of silk and lace in my hands that would soon be on my body. My mind was going into overload with happiness and excitement

After hanging the dress on the back of the door, Mrs. Smith opened up a dresser drawer.

"Lets see, you'll need underwear," as she threw an unopened package onto the bed. "Would you look at this, it's never been open. Lisa wouldn't even try them on. Or the socks!" as she tossed another unopened package on the bed.

Next she walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of shinny, black shoes and a robe. She placed the shoes on the bed and handed me the robe. "Here, take off your clothes and put this on."

I did as she said, putting the robe on before taking off my pants and underwear. Mrs. Smith picked up the pile of clothes and told me she would be right back. She left the room and a moment later re-appeared with a long, blonde wig.

"Bet you didn't know your mother was a blonde at one time," she said with a smile. "Okay, I think we're ready to start."

As we sat on the bed she explained what everything was and in what order I needed to put them on. She was very comforting in her words, as if she were deliberately making sure she didn’t say anything that might embarrass me. She also had a blissful smile on her face as if she were enjoying the moment.

Once this was done Mrs. Smith looked at me for a moment and said, "if you need help with something just let me know. In the meantime I'm going to call your mom, just to let her know where you are, and get dressed myself. Take all the time you need Honey, alright." With those parting words she got up and left, closing the door behind her.

I rushed to the door and opened it slightly so I could hear her conversation with my mother. It turned out my mom was going shopping that afternoon and was hoping Mrs. Smith could watch me while she was gone. Talk about good luck. After Mrs. Smith hung up the phone I closed the door and turned to the job at hand.

First I open up the package of new underwear that was lying on the bed. They were white and silky with ruffles attached to the outside all around. I carefully stepped into them and pulled them up. A cool wave of excitement ran throughout my body causing me to shiver slightly. The panties were much silkier then anything I had tried on before.

Next I open up the package containing the socks. Like the underwear, they were also white and had three rows of lace trim near the top. I slid them over my feet, passed my ankles, and all the way up to my knees. They felt so soft and warm on me.

After the socks came the hard part of putting on the petticoat. It was made out of a smooth, nylon material with white, flower lace attached at the edges. There were three layers of soft, lacy ruffles that caused the petticoat to flare out on it’s own. I had never seen, let alone wore anything that had so many ruffles attached to it. It took me a moment just to find the place where I needed to put my head through and then I started battling all the lacy ruffles to get it over my body. With one final big pull, I was able to slip it into place. The ruffles on the petticoat were thick and I enjoyed the touch of them rustling around my legs. I was tempted to look at myself in the mirror but held off.

Next I picked up the dress and removed it from the hanger. It felt so cool and silky in my hands, which were shaking with excitement. I try to stare at all the details; the lace, the ribbons, the bows, but it was too much to take in. The dress was absolutely beautiful! It was prettier then I could have ever dreamed up. Another cool wave of excitement went down my spine, causing my body to shiver.

I carefully placed the dress over my head and pull it down just as Mrs. Smith had told me to do. Then I lifted up the skirt and started spreading it out over the petticoat. From my angle, the dress just covered the petticoat.

As I began smoothing out the dress over the petticoat, I notice that pressing down on the dress was like I was pushing down on a bunch of soft pillows. As soon as I stop pressing down, the dress and petticoat would pop right back out again. I did this a few more times to try and capture the experience in my memory.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Smith asked, "how are you doing in there?"

"I'm almost dressed," I replied.

I lifted the wig off the fake head and put it on, being careful and doing it exactly the way Mrs. Smith had shown me. The wig was made of long, straight hair that went all the way down to my waist with a sight curl in the front.

The last thing I did was slipped my feet into the shoes. They were shinny and black but a bit tight. I had to fight with the buckle before they went on.

After all this was done, I made my way to the mirror. What I saw shocked me. While I wasn't perfect, I looked better then I ever dreamed I could. Staring back at me was this cute, little girl in a pretty, pink party dress.

"This can't be me," I kept repeating to myself in a daze and yet it I knew it was.

There was another knock on the door. "Hurry up, I want to see how you look." There was excitement in her voice that I hadn't heard before.

Perhaps it was her excitement that made me nervous, or maybe that this would be the first time someone would see me dressed up. Whatever the reason, I didn't want Mrs. Smith to walk in and see me standing in the middle of the room dressed like this. So I went inside the closet and closed the door before calling out that I was ready.

I heard the bedroom door open and then a concerned voice ask, "Susan, where are you?"

"In the closet." I replied nervously.

"Why are you hiding in there?" The voice got louder as Mrs. Smith walked up to the door.

"I...I wanted to surprise you. Are you sure you want to see me?" I asked? Really, really sure? Because if you're not, then don't open up the door."

"Yes I want to see you." Her voice became softer and understanding. "Look, I'm not going to laugh at you, I promise. In fact, I know we're going to have a great time if you trust me. Now, I'm going to open up the door on the count of three. One – Two – Three."

I took a deep breath and braced myself for the worse. I realized there was no turning back now. For better or worse, my decision had been made.

 

Part III

The light from the room suddenly came shinning in on me. I slowly looked up and saw Mrs. Smith standing there with big smile on her face. I had been fearing the worse but her face told me she wasn't upset or grossed out by what she saw. In fact, it was the opposite; she looked totally happy. Not only did Mrs. Smith want me to be her little girl, I think she actually believed it.

"Oh Susan!" she squealed with delight. "You look soooo adorable. Your sister didn't looked nearly as good in this dress as you do. Come out of that closet so I can get a better look at you." She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the middle of the room. "Oh my, what a pretty little girl you are."

"I couldn't get the dress zipped up all the way, Mrs. Smith."

"Mommy," she reminded me, "remember? And that's okay, I’ll do it for you sugar. I just can't believe how good you look in this dress; it's perfect on you. However, we’re going to have to do something about this petticoat, it's a little low." She knelt down and had me lift up part of my dress while she made some adjustments to it.

"Lower your dress now," she told me. "Okay, that looks much better."

Moving my hair to one side she zipped up my dress and straighten out the collar and some bows.

"There are still a few things we need to take care of to complete this outfit," she said. "Come with me child so I can make you pretty."

Mrs. Smith took my hand and led me out of the bedroom. The shoes I was wearing were tight and petticoat rustled against my legs, which caused the skirt to sway back and forth as I moved. It was a struggle for me to walk in this outfit. Somehow I managed to make it into to her bedroom without falling over.

"Sit down in the chair at the makeup table," she commanded.

Easier said then done. Everytime I tried to sit down I ended up with a pile of ruffles to fight with. Mrs. Smith watched my struggle with amusement.

"Here, try sitting down this way," which she then showed me.

Her way ended up working better then mine and I was able to sit without having my dress sticking up. The chair I sat down on already had a soft cushion but all the ruffles from the petticoat made me feel like I was sitting on a couple of fluffy pillows. The makeup table was huge and meant for serious business. It had three, large mirrors and six sets of drawers (three on each side). The two side mirrors were placed at a 45-degree angle, which allowed me to see what I looked like from both sides. On the table were several smaller mirrors, numerous bottles of perfume, lipstick, hairbrushes, other bottles of makeup, and some jewelry.

Mrs. Smith picked up a brush and started bushing my hair, working on the front curl to make it more noticeable. When this was done, she laid the brush down and pulled from one of the drawers a big, white bow. With great care she attached it to the back of my head. The ribbons from the bow almost ran down to the end of my hair.

From another drawer she pulled out a pair of white, lace gloves and told me to put them on. The ends of the gloves went up to my elbows. Mrs. Smith explained that they had been her mothers and was glad to see one of her girls would enjoy wearing them.

From still another drawer she pulled out a white, pearl necklace. Placing it around my neck, the necklace hung just above the collar of my dress. I had never thought of trying on my mother’s jewelry before and seeing the necklace had me spell-bound.

"Okay, we need to add some makeup to give you the right effect," she stated while picking up a bottle off the table. "I need you to sit very still while I put this on, so don't move."

Over the next half hour she applied blush, eye shadow and liner, pink lipstick, nail polish and finally, some of the sweetest-smelling perfume I had ever smelled in my life, even to this day. When she was all done Mrs. Smith stood back and looked at me with pride.

"Oh Susan, you look so beautiful." There was a lot emotion in her voice. "You’re a living doll in that dress. I can't wait to show you off." She got down on her knees and gave me a big hug. "We'll going to have so much fun today, just you and me. Girl fun that is."

"Mommy, what do you mean you can't wait to show me off?" I asked nervously.

"Did I say that?" she said with a sly smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean too. Wishful thinking I guess. Anyway young lady, we have work to do. It's one thing to look like a little girl, it's quite another to act like one. The contest is next month and you have a lot to learn. I'll make you a promise, if you work hard this morning I'll take it easy on you for the afternoon. Agree?"

Before I had a chance to answer she took my hand and led me into the living room. Over the next couple of hours I was taught how to sit, walk and act like a proper little girl. Mrs. Smith was teaching me all the things I would need to know to compete in the contest next month.

In fact she made the comment, "With your looks, poise, and that dress; you're going to be contender Susanna. Now give me a smile," she said as I posed for a picture, sitting in a chair with my legs bent sideways, hands together resting on the skirt of my dress and my hair flowing down over my shoulders. I became a lot more relax when I saw my mother get into her car and drive away.

I continued to relearn how to do things as a girl until about noon when Mrs. Smith looked at the clock and said, "Lets stop now and have lunch."

I agreed but instead of heading to the kitchen she led me back to her bedroom. Going to her closet, she pulled out a white blouse and handed it to me.

"Here, put this on over your dress so you don't get food on it," she said.

A new wave of excitement came over me. It was one thing to be wearing Lisa's clothes, now I was trying on Mrs. Smith stuff. I was hoping she would hand me a skirt or something else to wear but instead we walked back to the kitchen. From the side of the refrigerator she pulled out a fancy apron and placed it over me.

"There, I think that should be okay. We don't want to get anything on that pretty dress of yours, now do we? So, what shall we fix for lunch?" We decided on some grill cheese sandwiches that I help make.

After we ate and cleaned up the dishes, I removed the blouse (with much reluctance) and handed it back to Mrs. Smith.

"We need to freshen up your makeup but that can wait a while," she remarked to me. "Since you worked so hard this morning, I'm going to let you play while I do some needle work."

The news made me happy. True, I was living out a dream and so far it had been more than I could have hoped for. But I had grown tired of the routine of relearning to walk, sit, and talk like a little girl just so I could impress a judge in a contest that I would never be in. In fact, not only was I tired, I had become bored with this make-believe game we were playing. While I still liked the idea of dressing up and even acting as a little girl, the things Mrs. Smith made me do hadn't been as much fun as I thought they would be. Realities of real life never live up to your dreams.

Then there was my age. If I had been older the situation would’ve been different. But at eleven years old, my attention span wasn't that long. The little kid inside me had had enough and he wanted to go outside to run and play with his friends.

"Can I go outside and play?" I asked, thinking I could change back into my boy clothes and go to the park. My friends would be starting a baseball game about this time.

"I'm afraid not, Susan." Mrs. Smith replied. "I don't want you to get your dress dirty and I'm not ready for you to take it off yet." The reply took me back a little; I hadn't been prepared for that answer.

"But I really want to go outside." I began to whine. "Please, can't I change and go outside. I need to get some fresh air and stretch my legs."

"Sorry Susan, I need you to keep that dress on for a little while longer." Then she gave a sly grin and added, "I guess if want, we could go for a walk in the park. Would that help?"

"In this?" I responded, holding out the hem of my skirt to her. "My friends would laugh at me."

"No they wouldn't Susan. In fact, I bet your friends would fight over each other just to sit next to such a pretty little girl on the swing. I know the dress is a little bit more fancy than what most girls wear, but I don't think they would make fun of you because of it."

Clearly Mrs. Smith wasn't thinking straight or she didn't understand the situation. Had she forgotten who I really was?

"But I'm not really a little girl, that's the problem," I replied.

Oh really?" Mrs. Smith walked me over to the mirror and said, "look at yourself Susanna. You’re beautiful and completely feminine. Nobody could ever tell there was a boy underneath all that silk and lace."

I looked at the person in the mirror and realized she was right. It wasn't a boy wearing a dress that I saw, it was little girl in a lacy, pink outfit with white bows and ribbons. She had long, blonde hair that flowed down to her waist and a big, white bow that hung on the back of her head. The shinny black shoes, the white gloves, even the ruffles that peaked out from underneath my dress every now and then all helped to make me into the illusion of being a little girl.

"You just need to believe that the person in the mirror is really who it appears to be," she whispered softly in my ear. "If it helps, I believe you’re the prettiest little girl a mother could ever have."

Mrs. Smith wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tightly. "I've enjoyed myself this morning. How about you; have you enjoyed yourself?"

I nodded my head and gazed at her happy face in the mirror staring over my shoulder. For the first time in my life, I was in love. I didn't want Mrs. Smith to stop hugging me and I would’ve done anything to make her happy. She was much different than my mother, who I could never seem to please. Mrs. Smith accepted me for who I was and didn't expect me to be someone I wasn't. I knew she wouldn't yell at me for getting a B+ on a math test instead of an A+. She would’ve been happy just knowing I had tried my best. I also loved the way Mrs. Smith smelled and how she dressed. The clothes she wore, usually skirts or dresses, were always so much more pretty and stylish than other women her age. She was everything a man, in my case an 11-year-old, could want. How could I refuse her request?

"So, do you want to go outside for a walk or stay inside and play?" she asked.

Playing inside wasn't my first choice but it wasn't the worse thing that could’ve happened. True, I couldn't go outside and play baseball like I wanted but Lisa had a number of great toys I didn't have, and most of time she hogged them whenever we played together. Now I could have them all to myself without having to share. I guessed playing in the house one afternoon wouldn't kill me. In fact, the more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded. I could play with some neat toys and still remain dressed.

"I guess I would rather stay inside Mommy. Do you think it would be okay if I got out Lisa's race car set?"

"Actually, I had something else in mind for you to play with," she said while taking my hand and leading me down the hallway. For so reason I didn't like the way she had said that.

 

Part IV

Mrs. Smith led me back into the spare bedroom and open up the closet door. From it she pulled out a large baby doll with long, dark hair. It was wearing a diaper, rubber pants, and a fancy dress. Mrs. Smith also pulled out a box that contained extra dresses, diapers and other accessories. It turned out that the doll was one of those types where you fed it and it would then wet itself. It hardly looked used.

"Here, this should be fun to play with," Mrs. Smith said with excitement as she thrust the doll into my arms. "Now you can be a mommy just like me".

While I had always liked the idea of dressing up and even acting like a little girl, I never held any interest in playing with dolls. In fact, I was embarrassed to even be holding it in front of her.

"A doll?" I said in a shocked voice. "Can't I play with something else? I mean, you don't expect me to play with an old doll, do you?"

"Why Susan, this just isn't any kind of doll. This is the type of doll that all little girls dream of playing with." She stopped for a moment to give me a huge big smile and added, "Do you know what the best part is? She’s all yours, no one else's." I took little comfort in the last statement.

"But, but, I don't even know how to play with a doll. What am I suppose to do with it?" I asked in a confused tone, hoping this would get me off the hook.

"Well, first you give her a name," she replied while gently patting me on the back. "Then you can feed and change her. Let’s see, after that you can read her a book; I bet she’ll like that. Then you can give her a bath and make sure she’s all clean and dry. And finally, you can dress her in a nightie and rock her to sleep. Of course, you’ll need to sing to her." she added with a small, sweet smile.

"Me, sing to a doll?" I protested. "I can't do that, I just can't."

"Sure you can." she replied lovingly. "Susan, you’re going to find that this is a lot of fun if you give it a chance. I used to spend hours playing with my baby-dolls and they couldn't do half the things that this one does. You’re a very lucky girl to have such a nice baby!"

I didn't feel that lucky, not one darn bit. I didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Smith feelings but there was no way I intended to play with this doll.

"I really don't think I can do this very well," I told her. "Maybe we should try something else."

"Now Susan," her voice becoming a tad stern that made me take notice, "remember our deal here? You agreed to be a good girl and do as I say if I dressed you up in the prettiest outfit Lisa owned. I've kept my part of the bargain so far, haven't I? Now it's your turn to listen to me."

Then her voice became sweet and encouraging again. "Trust me sugar, you're going to enjoy yourself. Just give it a try, you’ll see. I know you’ll make a great mommy."

I didn’t have much choice. Mrs. Smith grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the living room with the box of stuff in tow.

"Come on baby, you can play in the living room while I work on this quilt. And if you're a good girl, maybe I'll teach you how to sew later on."

I took a place on the couch while Mrs. Smith sat in a rocker close by. After a few minutes of me just sitting there holding the doll under one arm, Mrs. Smith asked, "What did you decide to call your baby Susan?"

I felt my cheeks turn red. It was embarrassing enough to be holding the doll, now I had to name it."

"I don't know?" I muttered, hoping she would take the hint and let me play with something else. But Mrs. Smith wasn't about to give up so fast.

"Come on Susanna, give this a try. It would make me very happy if you did. Remember our rules, be a good girl now."

I thought about it and sighed. "Okay, how about...Sally. Do you like that name mommy?"

"Sally is a very pretty name for your baby, Susan. But hold her closer with both hands, she’s not going to bite. And talked to her and let her know how much you love her."

I was totally embarrassed but realized there was no way out of this. Trying to make the best of the situation, I lifted the doll up to my chest and started talking to it softly as any little girl would. Next I took out a bottle and began feeding my new, unwanted baby-doll, while silently cursing the person who had designed it. Mrs. Smith on the other hand just smiled contently from her rocker as she worked on her quilt.

Time began to drag, as every minute seemed like an hour.

‘How long would she make me do this? I wondered. ‘Not the whole afternoon?’ I hoped. Perhaps once I did everything she had asked me to do I could play with something else.

After feeding the doll its bottle, I checked the diaper and sure enough, it was wet. Instead of changing it, I pulled out the toy bathtub and filled it with water. Mrs. Smith got me a washcloth and soap to use and allowed me to take off my gloves and put on her apron.

It was hard work washing the doll on my knees while wearing this fancy, Sunday school outfit. The ruffles from the petticoat didn't cooperate and dress wasn't made for kneeing. Somehow I managed to soap and rinse off the doll without getting my dress dirty or wet.

After drying off the doll, I faced the next hurtle of putting a new diaper on her. The problem was, I had never changed a diaper before and didn't know what to do. In fact, these were real store brought-en pampers that you would buy for newborn infants.

I hated to ask but, "Mommy, I don't know how to do this. Can you help me?"

"Sure I can honey. Here, let me show you how it’s done." Mrs. Smith laid the doll on the table and taught me what to do.

"Okay, you give it a try," she replied while handing the doll back to me. I followed her directions and managed to get the doll diapered and dressed in another outfit.

"Your baby looks tired Susan." Mrs. Smith said. "I think you need to give her a bottle and make her take a nap. Here, take my chair so you can rock and sing her to sleep."

Mrs. Smith moved her stuff to another chair and gently forced me into the rocker. I gave up trying to keep my dress down (from all the ruffles) and worked on holding the doll up while feeding it a bottle. Slowly I started to rock in the chair, hoping this would end soon.

"Come on dear." Mrs. Smith encouraged. "Sing to your baby. Let me hear your sweet voice honey."

I gritted my teeth and softly started to hum, then sing, "Rock-a-by-baby" to the doll. After my third repeat of the song, Mrs. Smith couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh Susan," she said, her voice filled with pleasure. "You’re so adorable sitting there. I just have to get a picture of this". She grabbed her camera and took a few shots of me sitting there.

I, on the other hand, kept squeezing the bottle and trying to get the doll to drink faster. The sooner the bottle was done, the sooner I could lay the doll down and be done with it. After what seemed like an eternity, the bottle was finally empty of it’s contents. I laid the doll on the couch and told Mrs. Smith that Sally was asleep. Of course I knew the diaper was wet, but I was hoping Mrs. Smith would forget so I wouldn't have to change her again.

"Oh, you can't leave your baby sleeping on the couch like that honey". An idea pop into her head. "Wait a minute, I'll be right back."

I heard her go into the basement and move some stuff around. A moment later she came back up the stairs dragging something behind her.

"I thought it had been thrown away, but it wasn't." she said with great joy. "It used to be mine but I'm giving it to you. What do you think?"

It was an old baby buggy that had seen better days. The handle was rusty, the wheels were loose, and entire thing was filthy. Mrs. Smith got out a wet towel and started to clean up the dirt.

"It's old but still in good shape honey. At least this way you can take your baby with you without having to carry her around all the time."

After a few minute of cleaning the buggy looked a lot better. Mrs. Smith tied a few ribbons to the outside of it and gave me an old baby blanket to lay the doll. I placed my new baby-doll into the buggy and covered her with the blanket. Then Mrs. Smith had me push the baby buggy around the room while she watched with delight.

"Oh Susan, you look so sweet doing that. If only we had time to go to the park, you could push your baby around on some of the paths they have there."

My mind went back to the park. I imagine pushing the baby buggy down a path dress like I was. Being dressed this way was bad enough, but pushing a baby buggy with my doll in it, the image caused me to shiver with fright.

"Can I change now?" I asked politely.

Mrs. Smith looked at the clock and said," No honey, I need you to wear this outfit a little while longer. In fact, I think it's time we freshen up your makeup dear."

She got up and led me back to her bedroom again. This time, Mrs. Smith seemed to put more care into making sure my hair and makeup was just right. I didn't know the reason but was about to find out.

We went back into the living room where Mrs. Smith made me repeat some of the things she had taught me that morning. I was drilled on the proper way to walk, talk and sit like a young lady. When this was done Mrs. Smith got down on her knees and started fixing the bows and ribbons on my dress so everything was just right.

‘Why all the fuss,’ I wondered. ‘Was she planning to take more pictures?’ Little did I realize that for the next hour I was about to play the ultimate game of make-believe!

 

Part V

It started when there was a knock on the door. I panic, thinking maybe my mother had come back early. But as I tried to leave Mrs. Smith grabbed and firmly held me in place.

"Stay right here," she told me softly. "Everything's all right, I was expecting guests at this time. It's my surprise for you."

"I can't stay here. Look at ME!" I protested as my body began shaking with fear. Was I ready for this? There was another knock at the door

"Susanna, I don't have time to argue about this." In an even more comforting voice she said, "Look honey, you look perfect; no one will suspect a thing. Just do the things you learn and enjoy being a little girl. You'll love this experience, I promise. Now, take a deep breath and relax. Everything will be alright. "

Mrs. Smith let go of my arms and walked backwards towards the door while keeping her eyes on me. "Just relax, you’ll do fine." She pointed her finger at me to stay before turning to open the door.

"Are you Mrs. Smith?" someone ask. "

Yes, I'm am. Hi. You must be from the committee. I'm glad you could make it. Please, come in and call me Linda."

Three ladies entered into the house. Two were in their late thirty's and the other couldn't have been more then twenty.

"Thank you Linda. You have a lovely house," one of the older ladies said as she looked around the living room and spied me. "Oh my, and who is this lovely princess?" All three ladies looked over to where I was standing nervously.

"This is my 10 year old daughter, Susanna," Mrs. Smith proudly announced.

"What a pretty dress!" the first lady commented. "She's adorable Linda." I stood there, too afraid to move.

"We were working on her outfit for the "Little Misses" contest at the state fair next month. We're hoping to win this year."

"Well I don't see how she can lose," the second older lady replied. "She's as cute as a button. And that dress, oh, I just have to get a better look at it. Do you mind Susanna?"

Before I had a chance to reply, all three ladies were touching my dress, straightening bows, and smoothing out my skirt with their hands.

"I remember wearing dresses like this when I was younger," the first older lady said. "They use to make me feel so pretty. Do you like wearing dresses like this Susanna?"

I shyly shook my head but Mrs. Smith commanded, "Speak up dear, just like I taught you."

"Yes ma'am." I replied. Thank goodness I hadn't hit puberty and could still make my voice sound softer than it was.

"And you're so polite too. Linda, you have raised a fine young lady here. Does she have any other surprises?"

‘Only one,’ I thought but kept quiet.

Mrs. Smith just looked at me and grinned. "Nope, none that I know of."

"Well I have a daughter who’s 13 and I have to fight with her just to wear a skirt to church," the first lady continued. "She won't even look at ‘a dress’ when we go to the store."

"Your lucky," replied the second older lady. "My daughter is 17 and refuses to even put on a skirt. In fact, she wore a pants suit to her prom. Can you believe that? She has a closet full of some of the prettiest skirts and dresses that I made for her but she refuses to wear them. Maybe I should give them to Susanna," she said with a smile.

"I hate to say this," she added, "but last month my daughter got her hair cut real short. Because of the way she dress’s, she looks like a boy now. And when I ask her to wear a dress she refuses. Her reason is that her other friends dress this way and she doesn't want to break fashion. How about you, Mary? Any thoughts?"

The younger women spoke for the first time. "I used to love dressing up as a princess when I was a little girl. I would go out as one every Halloween. My dream is to dress my child as a princess all the time, even if it's a "boy". Everyone, including Mrs. Smith, broke out in laughter. "Don't worry Susanna, he could never be as pretty as you."

"Well, you are very pretty in that dress. I bet you're going to hate taking it off," the first lady commented. It's nice to see a little girl who is not ashamed to be...a girl. And such a pretty one." I felt my cheeks starting to turn red from all this attention.

"Today, too many girls want to dress and look like boys." she added. "It's nice to meet young ladies like yourself who don't mine dressing up in pretty outfits. It lets us, the older generation, know that in the future there will still be young ladies who won't mine acting and dressing as such. Your the hope for our future womanhood" (Now that was an interesting thought).

Despite being embarrassed, I realize she had given me a compliment. Maybe I could get away with this.

"Yes ma'am, and thank you," as I held out my skirt and curtsied, just as Mrs. Smith had taught me. The three ladies giggled with pleasure while Mrs. Smith beamed with at me with pride.

"Well, I figure we could work on my application over here," Mrs. Smith said, pointing to the chairs in one corner of the living room. "Have a seat while I get some coffee and snacks. Susanna, be a good girl and help your mother, okay."

"Okay mommy," I said as I walked behind her into the kitchen. The minute we went around the corner Mrs. Smith turned and gave me a giant hug.

"You were fantastic back there," her voice filled with pride. "I couldn't be prouder of you, especially when you curtsy to them. That was perfect. You’re a very good learner, Susan." One of her hands went down and patted me on the bottom. "I'm proud you're my daughter. I want you to always be my little girl."

That was all I wanted to hear. All my life I had been looking for someone to accept and make me feel wanted. I never did seem to fit in at home. No matter what I did, it never seemed to be good enough. I prayed to God, while she was holding on to me, to make it so. I wanted to be her little girl for life.

"I love you mommy," and I did. The words were real, not rehearsed.

She smiled back and said, "well, we have guest we have to take care of. Come on, let’s get busy." She stood up and walked over to the counter.

Even though I had passed with flying colors, being around those other women was a nerve-racking experience. I had a number of fears about being caught, and they were still dancing in my head. ‘What would happen if these ladies found out who I really was? Would the police be called in? Would my parents find out?’ I really didn't want to find out the answers to these questions. What I really wanted to do was to play it safe and stay in the kitchen or hide out in Lisa's bedroom until they left. But Mrs. Smith had other plans for me.

She handed me a plate of cookies. "Here, take these and serve them to our guest please." Seeing the fear in my eyes she added, "you're doing great Susanna, keep up the good work."

She turned me around so I faced the entrance to the living room and whispered in my ear, "Take a deep breath – relax." She gave a slight push on my back to start me walking towards the living room.

I carried the cookies out to where the three ladies were sitting at. Each of them gave me a pleasant smile and thanked me for being so helpful. A minute later Mrs. Smith followed with a tea tray. The three ladies introduce themselves to us and Mrs. Smith took a seat next to one of them, leaving me standing there.

"Baby doll, why don't you go play with Sally while we talk." Mrs. Smith motioned to the doll that was lying in the buggy.

"Okay," I replied obediently.

I picked the doll up and headed for the hallway but only got a few feet before I heard Mrs. Smith say, "Excuse me for a moment. Susan dear, where are you going?"

"I was going to my room to play so I wouldn't disturb you"

"That’s very nice of you honey but I want you to play in here where I can keep on eye on you. That dress cost us a lot of money and I don't want to see you get it dirty, okay. You can play on the couch with Sally, just don't try to give her a bath." Mrs. Smith then went back to her guest.

‘What an embarrassing situation,’ I thought as I sat down on the couch and stared at the ladies on the other side of the room. But what else could I do. If I left the room Mrs. Smith would only drag me back in and, she would be mad. I didn't want that to happen. And, I couldn't just sit here; I was suppose to be a little girl and just sitting was not what a 10-year girl would do. No, if I wanted these ladies to think I was a little girl then I had to act like one. So, what would a little girl do in this situation? I knew the answer even before I started thinking it out. There was only one thing I could do to keep up this masquerade. I was trapped and I knew it. Mrs. Smith looked over and gave me the eye to start playing.

I laid the doll on the coffee table and changed its diaper. This caught the attention of all three ladies, who seemed more interested in what I was doing them what Mrs. Smith was talking about. From the box I pulled out a pretty dress and carefully pull it over the dolls head. To keep up the appearance, I kept smiling and talking to my doll. After she was dressed, I brushed its long, dark hair with a pink baby brush.

Once done, I sat the doll on my lap and read the book, "The little red caboose’ to her. Mrs. Smith continued to talk while the three ladies took their turn checking to see what I was doing.

The longer I played with the doll the more embarrass I became. While I would have given my front teeth to stop what I was doing, I realized that the more attention I gave the doll the more convinced these ladies would believe that I was just another little girl. So I force myself to play the part happier, more joyfully, more serious then any little girl could.

I read the doll a couple of other books before I couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing the bottle, I proceeded to feed my baby while talking softly to her. By now I was feeling totally foolish but knew this was the only way to keep up my cover. Every now and then one of the ladies would look up and give me an approving glance.

Ten minutes later the bottle was done and the doll's diaper was wet again. While I worked on changing the diaper, I listen to what was going on. Mrs. Smith was trying to get a grant from these ladies for a special quilt she wanted to make. It seemed like she had been talking for hours, going over her plans.

‘When was this meeting going to end?’ I asked myself.

After changing the doll's diaper, I started looking through the box for something to dress her in. I came across a frilly, pink nightgown with lace all over it. With great care, I dressed the doll in it.

Then a horrible thought struck me. There wasn't anything left to do but sing my doll to sleep, something I was dreading. I felt foolish enough playing with this doll but having to sing to it in front of strangers, it was more then I could stand. I just couldn't bring myself to doing it. Instead, I held the doll in my lap hoping no one would take noticed.

After a few minutes of explaining her quilt to the ladies, someone else started talking and Mrs. Smith looked over at me. Our eyes locked and in an instant, I had read her mind. She made a motion to continue with what I was doing or else.

With great resistance, I lifted the doll up and snuggle it against my chest. I began swinging my arms back and forth and softly sang a la-la-bye to the baby doll. The ladies in the group looked over and stared at me with admiration. I could read their minds; each of them dreamed of having a little girl like myself who they could dress up in pretty clothes and watch as she played with her dolls. I could tell Mrs. Smith was thrilled with my performance as she struggled to continue.

After what seemed like forever, the meeting finally broke up. I continued to rock the doll as the three ladies stood and walked over to me.

"That's a very pretty baby you have Susanna," one of them said. "What’s her name?"

"Sally," I replied shyly. I didn't want to get into a discussion about my doll.

"I can see that you take really good care of her," she continued to ramble, almost as if she believe it was a really person.

Then it dawned on me; I had done such a good job of acting in front of her that she actually believed I thought it was ‘a real baby’. In fact, from the smiles on all three ladies faces, I could see that they all believed this was true. These ladies must have thought I was a little baby or something. I held onto the doll even tighter, part out of embarrassment and part of fear of blowing my cover.

"Oh yes, she is a good mother to Sally," Mrs. Smith agreed, adding on to my woes. "In fact, she plays with Sally most of the day. She is a fine mommy."

"How old is your baby Susanna?", one of the older ladies asked. I just stood there, too embarrass to say anything.

"Go on and tell her honey," Mrs. Smith coaxed.

"Six months," I said, clutching the doll even tighter.

"Look how tightly she holds onto her doll." one of the older ladies whispered to the others. "Don't worry Susanna, we are not going to take your baby away." All three laugh as if this was quite funny while I loosen my death-grip on the doll.

"Well, she is a very pretty baby, and you're a very nice little girl Susanna. It was a pleasure meeting both Sally and you," she said with a smile as she patted me on the shoulder.

The three ladies said their good-byes and headed out the door. Mrs. Smith turned after they left and gave me a big smile."

"Come here you little angel!" Mrs. Smith said while holding out her arms to me. She gave me a big hug and lifted me slightly off the ground.

"You were perfect," she said in a joyful manner. "Those women envied me for having such a sweet, pretty little girl. I'm sorry I didn't warn you but I didn't want to you to be nervous before hand. Now, aren't you glad I didn't?"

I had to admit I was glad she hadn’t told me ahead of time. If she had, I would’ve been a nervous wreak before they had gotten here. It is a memory I treasure today and I'm glad it happened. I would do it again if I had the chance.

Mrs. Smith stopped hugging me and said, "I guess now you can change into another outfit, unless you would like to play some more. In fact, I was thinking we could do something together. Would you like that?"

The excitement of the outfit had worn off but I still wasn't ready to exchange this dress for another. Besides, the thought of doing something with Mrs. Smith sounded much more exciting. Being around her was a wonderful experience and I wanted to do as much as I could with her.

"I would love to do something with you mommy, what do you have in mind? Anything you want."

"Anything?" Mrs. Smith smiled while grabbing my hand. "Come along with me then sweetie, I have another surprise for you."

She led me into the spare bedroom again and told me to sit on the bed. Then she reached down and pulled out a box from underneath the bed.

"You're going to love this baby doll."

 

Part VI

Mrs. Smith opened up the box and to my horror, started pulling from it more dolls. Only these weren’t just dolls, they were Barbie dolls that she had gotten for Lisa who refused to play with them.

"This is going to be fun." she squealed. "I've been dying to play dolls with one of my girls for a long time. We can dress them up and pretend to go shopping and do all kinds of things. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

I looked into her happy face and realize there was no way I could say ‘No’ to her. So we sat on the bed and dressed the dolls up like they were going to a party. Then I drove them around the room in a Barbie car and when they got to the party we sat them in chairs and pretended like they were talking about dresses, makeup, and other things girls talk about. We even had them dance with a Ken doll.

This was the first and only time I enjoyed playing with a doll. I mean, I really had a good time and ended up getting into the game. This couldn't have happened if it hadn't been for Mrs. Smith, who seemed to really be enjoying herself. During that hour we bonded just like mothers and daughters do under similar circumstances. It was an extremely special experience where I felt completely like her little girl. I was thinking, experiencing and enjoying my new role as her daughter.

After playing for a while Mrs. Smith said, "you must be uncomfortable in that dress Susan. Lets get you out of that dress and see how you look in some of your sisters other outfits." I agreed and we walked back into Lisa's room.

The rest of the outfits were uneventful compared to the first dress I wore except that I did look good in most of them. In fact, I could have gone outside wearing any of them and everyone would have taken me for a little girl.

First I tried on a short pink dress with puff sleeves. Mrs. Smith had me take off the petticoat and gave me one of Lisa's pink slips to wear. Next I tried on a blue flower dress which we both thought made me looked pretty. Mrs. Smith told me Lisa didn't like the dress and wouldn't even try it on.

There were a couple of skirt/blouse outfits that I changed into as well but I didn't look nearly as good in them as I did in the dresses. Finally I tried on the red dress with the white ribbons which I (and Mrs. Smith) liked so much. It looked as if it was meant for me. Mrs. Smith thought I looked so good that she took a few pictures of me wearing it.

Up to this point it had been a pretty good day but there was one thing I was a little disappointed about. Mrs. Smith was a sharp dresser and I always admired the pretty dresses or sharp skirt and blouse outfits she wore. Today however, she had put on a pair of black pants and a white blouse. I guess she had done this in her haste to get back to me. I was a little disappointed she hadn't taken time to put on a dress or skirt and finally, I gather up the courage to say something about it

"Mommy, wouldn't you like to wear something different so we can both be dressed up?"

Mrs. Smith looked at me with her big blues eyes. "Why baby-doll, would you like me to wear something different than what I have on? Why didn't you tell me before? I guess I could if you want."

She disappeared into her bedroom and a few minutes later re-appeared wearing the same blouse but with a flowered skirt that came down to her knees.

"How's this?" she asked while twirling around. "Does it meet with your approval?"

I had another outfit in mind (her wedding dress) but didn't want to push my luck and nodded an approval. She was a prettiest woman in the world, no matter what she wore.

"Your clothes are so pretty," I told her. "I wish I could wear them."

Mrs. Smith giggled. "Why that can be arranged. I guess you have time to play ‘dress up’ if you like." Before I had a chance to answer she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom.

"Lets see, what would you like to wear? Do you want me to pick something out for you or do you want to do it?" I told her to pick something out and she started shifting through her closet.

"Here are some things." She pulled out several dresses and laid them on the bed. "You can pick out whatever you want to try on. Now, let me get some other items for you."

She walked over to her dresser and pulled out a blue slip, white bra and pair of dark pantyhose. She smiled as she laid them on the bed in front of me.

"Here you go baby-doll. Now, you can put these on over your dress or I can leave and you can change into them. What would you like me to do?"

I decide to change into her clothes but told Mrs. Smith it was all right for her to stay if she turn around while I got dress. My hands were shaking with anticipation as I picked up the bra. Knowing that Mrs. Smith had wore this same bra under her clothes made it that much more exciting. It felt so soft and smooth in my hands as I placed it over my chest. I grabbed some socks and stuff them into it to give me a figure more like what Mrs. Smiths had.

Next I picked up the full slip that was lacy and felt so silky. As I slid it on my body a cold chill ran down my spine and shivered with excitement. The slip was too big on me of course and while it didn't come close to Mrs. Smiths knees when she wore it, it ended up going all the way down to my feet. Putting on a pair of pantyhose was also a new experience but somehow I managed to do it without getting a run in them.

From the pile of clothes I selected a blue and white flowered dress with a broad white collar and belt around the waist. I didn't even bother unzipping it as I was able to pull it right over my head. Mrs. Smith looked so stylish in this outfit and I dreamed it would have the same effect on me. I told her I was ready and she could turn around.

"Oh Susan!", Mrs. Smith said with a giggle. "You look so cute in my dress." She held one hand to her mouth and giggled again. "Take a look at yourself in the mirror honey."

I would ‘love to say’ I looked as pretty and snappy as Mrs. Smith did in the outfit. The truth is, I looked more like a clown or better yet, a little girl playing dress up in her mother’s clothes than the young lady I hoped I would see. But I didn't care; I was wearing the clothes of the women I was in love with. Everything was perfect.

Everything that is except for the outfit I wanted her to wear. Time was growing short and I became more determine to see her in it. However, instead of asking her directly, I came up with a plan. Pointing to her wedding picture on the dresser I asked, "Is that you in that picture Mommy?"

"Why yes it is baby."

"That dress looks so beautiful on you. To bad you don't still have it around so I could see it." She grinned and I could see she got the hint.

"Why thank you very much honey. Actually, I have it here in the closet. Would you like to see it?"

I nodded yes and she pulled out a large white box from the top of the closet. Carefully she open it up and pulled from it a long, white wedding dress. The pictures didn't do it justice.

"Hold it up to you Mommy."

She did and I began to picture her wearing it. Now all I had to do was figure out what to say that would make her want to try it on. Just as I was getting ready to say something she spoke.

"You don't have to ask sugar, I know what you have in mind."

"You do?" I said a little surprised.

"Yes, I do." she grinned. "I can take a hint. And it's fine with me baby, you can try it on."

"Um, well um, what about you?" This was not what I had in mind although the idea didn't seem that bad to me.

"Well, I don't mind baby doll as long as you don't mind standing there in front of me in your slip." Her smile got real big. "You’ll have to take off the dress you have on before you can get into my wedding gown you know."

I didn't argue with her, I was thrilled with idea of trying the wedding gown on. I stepped out of the dress I was wearing and before I even had a chance to think about what was going on Mrs. Smith slid the wedding dress over my head. Sudden I became lost in a sea of white silk.

"Put your arms in the sleeve baby." Mrs. Smith commanded. I found them and positioned my hands inside.

"Good, here we go." All of the sudden my head popped out and I could see again. Mrs. Smith grabbed my hair and dropped it over the back of the dress.

"Not bad sugar, not bad. Let’s try the veil now." She pulled the veil out of another box and positioned it onto my head.

"One more thing, let’s put on some red lipstick to highlight your lips". She applied it with care and stood back to look at me

"Oh my," she giggled happily. "My little babies a bride! And so cute too. Try walking down the hallway Susan to the rhythm of this song. Dum – dum – dumdum, dum – dum – dumdum."

I walked slowly down the hallway toward the living room as she hummed the theme to the wedding march. The dress was big and heavy to walk in, with most of it lying on the floor. I scooped up the skirt of the dress with both hands but even than a good portion of the dress still dragged on the floor making it difficult to walk.

"I guess you’ll need a few more years to grow into it," she said with a smile while checking her watch. "It's getting late, but I have one more outfit for you to try on before you take a bath."

She walked over to the makeup table and from the bottom drawer pulled out a silky, white nightgown with a matching lacy robe. Mrs. Smith stared at me for a moment and her voice got real serious.

"With every wedding there is a wedding night Susan. It's a special time that you always remember. Here, take this." She handed me the nightgown. "This is my favorite nightie sugar. It was the first one I wore after I was married. It's very special to me and now I want you to put it on. Are you okay with that?" I nodded my head, not fully understanding what she was trying to tell me.

Mrs. Smith unzipped the wedding gown and I stepped out of it. Then she turned around as I took off her slip and pantyhose and put the nightgown and robe on. After I was done she turned around and a new look appeared in her eyes. It was a strange look, one that took me back a little.

"I have a surprise that I'm going to give you," she said. "I know you are going to like it."

You mean? No, not sex. She was after all old enough to be my mother although that wouldn't have mattered, if I knew what sex was. Remember, back in my days I would’ve been too young to know about stuff like that. She was referring to another form of pleasure although sometimes I wonder if she had thoughts of something more. Her actions towards me later on indicated that she felt guilty about something. Was it because she had enjoyed dressing me up as a little girl or something else? I will never know.

Mrs. Smith led me over to her bed and pulled back the sheets. "Lay down baby." I did as I was told and she pulled the sheets back over me.

"Okay baby, don't be embarrassed, I understand what you need to do." I had ‘no’ idea what she was talking about but sense this wasn’t a good time to ask. She handed me another one of her silky nightgowns.

"Once you’re done just place the panties, bra, and nightie in the hamper and put my other robe on. Then go to the bathroom and take a bath." Mrs. Smith pulled down the shades and turned off the lights. Then she turned towards me one more time.

"Sweet dreams Susan... and enjoy yourself." She closed the door and left me alone in the dark.

Remember I hadn't reached puberty so that aspect in my life hadn't come into play yet. I did however lay there caressing myself with her nightgown. The nightgown I was wearing was big and every time I moved or caress it with the other nightgown strange, new sensations and waves of excitement drove through my body. Who knows what could have happen if I had more time alone, although I kind of doubt it! I will add that this is the reason why I enjoy wearing nightgowns that feel big on me. It takes me back to that day.

After about an hour Mrs. Smith knocked on the door and told me it was time I took a bath. I got out of the bed and changed into a robe she had worn earlier. It was soft and smelled so good, just like her. I walked into the bathroom where Mrs. Smith had the water ready for me and spent the next 20 minutes in the tub washing off the perfume and makeup. My clothes were sitting on the toilet so I dried myself off with a towel and got into them. How different they felt on me now.

I found Mrs. Smith sitting in her rocker quietly sewing her on quilt. There was a strange, almost awkward present in the room.

She smiled slightly and said, "hi Jeff. I see your mother is home so I guess you can go now." She returned back to her sewing.

I open the door and then turned and said to her, "I won't forget what you did Mrs. Smith. I had fun."

"I know you won't forget Jeff, neither will I." There was sadness in the way she said the words. I would never understood why until 25 years later. Things would never be the same between us again.

I closed the front door and headed home. Little did I realize that this would be the last time I would talk to Mrs. Smith in private. The next day I found out Mr. Smith had gotten a new job and they were moving out of state. My heart broke; I needed Mrs. Smith more then ever now.

Three weeks later the Smith's moved and it was the last time I would see or talk to Mrs. Smith again. How strange that the people you care about so much seem to leave your life when you need them the most. At least in my life it always seemed to be that way. I knew there would never be another replacement in my life for Mrs. Smith. Only others.

 

Epilog -- 25 years later.

My mother kept in touch with Mrs. Smith but not too closely. It usually amounted to a Christmas card each year with a letter telling us how everyone was doing. I wrote Lisa a few times and even planned on visiting her but it never worked out. After a year we both developed other interest and our friendship faded.

I always asked Lisa about her mom but never wrote to Mrs. Smith directly. I guess I could have called her when I had gotten older and left home but for what purpose? Too much time had passed and I didn't know how Mrs. Smith would react to getting a phone call from me out of the blue. It wasn't the right thing to do so I didn't call.

Mrs. Smith did have another daughter who she named Cindy, not Susanna. I don't know why she didn't call her Susanna, perhaps it was out of guilt for that day we spent together and she didn't want to be reminded of it. I still would rather believe it was because of the special bond we had and she still thought of me as her daughter. Naming the new baby Susanna would have replaced her memory of me.

I never met Cindy and have very little information on what she was like growing up. I hope she was the daughter that Mrs. Smith had wanted. Lisa on the other hand got married and had two daughters of her own. She is almost as pretty as her mother but doesn't have the taste and style in clothing that her mom had. Still, it's hard not to see Lisa's mother in her every time I visit.

Of course whenever I see the TV show "Home Improvement" I am reminded of her. The actor playing Jill Taylor looks, acts, and talks like the Mrs. Smith I knew. I watch it all the time, not only because I like the show, but to remind me of her

I remember the call all to well. It was 7:30 in the morning and I was just getting ready to leave when the phone rang. It was my mother and she had some bad news; Mrs. Smith was dead. I stood there in shock, unwilling to believe that someone so sweet and whom I loved so much could be gone. The accident had happen a month ago and my mother had just gotten a letter from Lisa telling her the bad news.

I called into work and told them I couldn't come in. As soon as I hung up the phone I started crying uncontrollably. I hadn't seen Mrs. Smith since she left 25 years ago and yet the loss I felt was just as painful as when my father died. I called Lisa and then drove to where she lived. Lisa filled me in on all the details.

Mrs. Smith had been driving home from church when a drunk driver crossed over the centerline of a curve and hit her head-on. They rushed her to the hospital where she died two hours later. The drunk driver had just gotten out of jail two weeks earlier after serving time for killing two other innocent people in another drunk driving accident. Worse, he had been arrested five more times for the same offense and was driving with a suspended license. As he told the cop when they arrested him, he just didn't care about the other people he killed.

After the accident he got out of the car (almost completely uninjured) and ran away. One of the witnesses followed him to a nearby bar and called the police. When they arrived 10 minutes later the drunk driver claimed he had been at the bar for the past four hours and someone must had stolen his car. He couldn't, however, explain the cuts and bruises he had on his body.

Later, only after several people had id him, did he claim Mrs. Smith had caused the accident and he had been too afraid to stay since he was driving without a license. So he had made his way to the bar to calm down and think and in the process had gotten himself loaded. The court would later only charge him with vehicle manslaughter since there was no way to prove if and how drunk he was at the time the accident occurred. Lisa is still bitter about the accident and the drunk driver today.

We talked a little bit more and then Lisa did a funny thing. She asked if I could look at some pictures and tell her if I knew who this person was. I looked and was shocked. There was a picture of a blonde hair girl in a pretty pink dress, with white lace and bows, holding onto a doll with a big smile on her face. She looked so happy.

"After my mother died I started going through some of her things and ran across these photos. The dresses this girl is wearing are mine but I have no idea who she is. I know it's not me, and the pictures were taken at our old house so there’s no way it can be Cindy. All it says on the back is Susanna Marie. This girl must have been important to my mom, she kept these pictures with her other important items that she used to look at all the time. Do you know her?"

I shook my head and continuing looking at the other pictures as tears welded up in my eyes. This was the first time I had seen them and knowing Mrs. Smith had kept them close to her made me feel peaceful inside. She hadn't forgotten about me.

I also kept staring at the happy face in the picture. This was only two years before my parents found out I was a crossdresser and turned my teenage years into a living hell. Yet for that one day, that one, beautiful day, I was allowed to be who I wanted to be and more important, accepted for it.

After my visit I picked up some flowers and drove to the cemetery. As I stood over Mrs. Smith's grave in a pouring rain I told her ‘Thank you’. I had failed to say that when I left that day and had always regretted it.

"I love you Mrs. Smith. Thank you for being there when I needed you. Thank you for accepting...." I broke down in tears, it was too painful. "I wish," I started choking and crying and couldn't go on.

Then I smelled something I hadn't smelled in years. It was Mrs. Smith perfume, and even in the pouring rain the smell was strong. I knew she was there and as crazy as it sounds, I felt her peace and love around me as if she was trying to comfort me. After a minute the smell disappeared. I laid the flowers on her grave and walked away. I too was at peace with what had happen.

She would always be a true love, despite the age difference and the fact that we had never gone to bed together. But then, that’s what true love is all about. And to think I had found out about such an important lesson so long ago and it had started out as child's play.

 

 

 

© 2001
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