Poor Little Girl                                by Janet L. Stickney                             JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

The roaring sound of the trains as they raced by his house rattled the shaky loose panes of the window, sometimes making flakes of the tired paint fall to the floor. He lay under the single thin blanket, shivering as the cold of the night whispered through the cracks of the ancient building, so long neglected. The third floor tenement was old, located in a slum populated by people living on the edge every day, coping the best they knew how. He heard the neighbor snoring again, the thin veneer of the walls doing nothing to stop the old mans noises; his Mother was passed out on the couch again, a combination of cheap booze and drugs, her constant illness and poor diet making her 36 years look like 60. Hungry, all he could do was endure it. The only solid meal he got every day was at school, one of the reasons he always went. He was small for his age, 13 years old, 4'6" just 67 pounds. He had a shock of reddish blonde hair, large blue eyes, and the clear skin of his Irish ancestors. Once a week, when the lady downstairs did her laundry, she sometimes let him put his clothes in with hers, so most times, he looked better than he felt.

I worked part time sweeping out a small grocery, always taking food instead of money for the chores. Mr. Samuelson, who had owned the store for many years, was glad to see a young man trying to help himself, so he always made sure that I got just a bit more than I actually earned. In school I studied hard, unable to muster the bravado of the bigger boys, and my size also protected me. The other boys ignored me since I posed no threat to them. Because I studied hard, the teachers saw in me the potential that so many others in my class lacked, or refused to use. Even at my young age, many of my classmates had been killed, dropped out, pushed drugs, or were in some kind of prison for a wide range of crimes. I wanted to run away, but where to? I had no family in the city, my Mothers only sister lived in Phoenix, and I had no idea how to contact her. Everyday I walked the gauntlet of the mean streets, dodging drug dealers, garbage cans, drunks, and, sometimes, bodies. Everyday I hated it more and more. That afternoon, an uncontrolled set of circumstances would change my fate forever.

I walked up the three flights of stairs, hearing the creaking of the ancient boards as they strained, even under the weight of my small frame. I saw that the door to our flat was open, and as I walked in, I had a lump in my throat. You just didn't leave your door open in this building… ever! My mother was on the bed, arms akimbo, on her back. At first glance I didn't see anything wrong, then, as I got closer to her, I saw the two small bullet holes in the side of her head and the trickle of blood as it seeped into her hair. I slumped to the floor, first a sadness overcoming me, then the realization that I was now truly alone. My mother had been a terrible provider, spending the small welfare checks on a few groceries and the rest on booze or drugs or both, but she was my mother. I went to his room and gathered the few things I owned into a paper bag; and before leaving, I took one last look at my mother, then closed the door behind myself. My steps were heavy as I walked back down the stairs, yet inside, I knew I had a chance to find a better life. There was nothing to keep me here now.

I wandered around the city, not knowing where to turn, finally ending up at the giant train station. I slowly walked into the cavernous building amid the crowds of commuters going home for the evening and got caught up in the throng of people, propelled into a train car, squeezed between a leather briefcase and a very large woman's behind. I struggled to try and get off, then I quit trying when I felt the jerk of the train as the locomotive began moving. It was a long ride, and I was becoming scared. As the car swayed back and forth, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks scared me at first, then lulled me with the soft click clack song of the rails. Finally the train stopped, and I managed to get off. It was a desolate looking station, the parking lot filled with shiny new cars reflecting the sinking soft yellow ball of the evening sun, other riders driving away, leaving me alone on the platform. I started walking, my paper bag gripped firmly in my hand. The town was so unlike the city. It was clean, no drunks on the sidewalk, no overturned garbage cans, no drug dealers on the corners. The town even smelled clean, and they even had a few trees along the sidewalk. I had never been out of the city before, but I had seen a scene like this on television several times before it had broken, and thought this only existed in someone's fantasy. I wandered down the street, the shops all closed, not a person in sight.

"Young man!" I turned and saw an older woman. She had brown hair streaked with gray and piercing blue eyes. Her skin seemed faded with age, but she had a bright smile creasing her face. "Are you lost?" I was, but I was at a loss for words. A gentle rain started, and she stepped back into a small dress shop. "Come in here, you'll catch your death out there." I followed her motioning hand, stepping into the store. Strange smells assaulted my nose, the profusion of color from the many dresses dazzling me. "You look pretty lost to me, did you run away from home?" "No Ma'am. I got stuck on the train and this is where I ended up." "Have you eaten anything today?" I didn't want to say no, but the low growl from my stomach, which she could clearly hear, stopped the lie before it began. "Why don't you come home with me tonight, we can have dinner and talk about why you're here in Compton." She took my hand and closed the door behind her. The walk to her house was short, just a few blocks.

Her house was big, bigger than any I had ever seen before, except on television. It was painted a light gray with white trim around the windows with a large porch surrounding the house. The walk was lined with trees that towered over them, the seven steps to the front door damp from the brief afternoon shower. She opened the door and I stepped into a single room that was larger than the entire flat I had lived in! The furniture was flowered, the hardwood of the floor covered in multicolored rugs with fringe around the edges. I barely had time to notice everything as she motioned me to follow her into the kitchen. Copper pots hung from hooks over the counter, the refrigerator seemed as big as a small car! She made dinner for us, the sound of the sizzling steaks and the aroma of the slowly cooking meat an efficient reminder of the one time I had eaten a steak. Once she was done, we sat at a table in an alcove that overlooked a stand of trees. She told me to eat, and I did. She watched in amazement as I devoured the steak, potato, vegetables, everything but the design on the plate so it seemed. Inside, she smiled. "Are you still hungry?" Losing my shyness, I answered yes, and she refilled my plate again. I cleaned that off just as she placed a cherry pie on the table. I had never had anything made with cherries before, but when I was done eating, and having had three glasses of milk, I sat back. "Why don't we sit on the porch, you can tell me about it." She left the room, with me trailing behind her. "My name is Marilyn Houser. What's your name." "Raymond. Raymond Iverson. I'm 13É but I'm not sure about my birthday. The school said it was June 10^th." "What about your family Raymond, won't they be looking for you?"

That started a flood of tears. I told her about my mother, never having known my Father, finding her dead, everything. "I see. Why don't you stay here tonight and we can see my brother in the morning. He can help us." I had been sitting in a soft porch chair and had fallen asleep in the short time she had used to make the call! She gently woke me, and led me to a bedroom, made sure I was in bed, and left the room. The smell of the clean sheets, the heavy weight of the blankets smothering me in unfamiliar warmth, and a full stomach, were all things I had rarely experienced, and my tiny body collapsed as I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, with the sun shining through the open shades, I wakened to the smell of frying bacon. I slipped on my clothes, then found my way back to the kitchen. "Good morning Raymond. Breakfast will be ready in a moment. I once again ate everything she put on my plate, the axiom I used in school still in place. Always eat when you can. "Why don't you go to your room and take a bath while I run your clothes through the washer." An hour later, well fed, with clean clothes, we drove across town. "David, this is Raymond. He has an interesting situation; maybe you can help us." Both Marilyn and I told her brother David my story. He was a Judge, and knew how to help. "I'll make a few calls Marilyn. I'll see you at the store later. Later turned out to be 3 in the afternoon.

Marilyn took him with her to the store and showed him around. "Maybe you can help me arrange the stock Raymond, I'll show you how." I spent the day sorting dresses, skirts, coats, suits, and assorted other clothes. She was in the back of the store with me when we heard the sound of the door chimes ringing as the door opened. We both walked to the front of the store and saw Judge Benson. "I called, and it seems that everything he said was true. His Mother was found dead, and they caught the guy the next morning. It was over some kind of drug debt, and the officer I talked to told me the apartment was "pitiful" to borrow his words. I have issued an order that will allow you to keep him with you for the time being. Child services will be along in the next few days, but I talked to Marion so it shouldn't be a problem." Marilyn was smiling, and I somehow knew that something good had happened.

The next day I was enrolled in school, and that night Marilyn and I had gone out to buy me some new clothes, my very first new clothes. Usually mom bought things at the resale shop. Then I settled into the bedroom. As I put the clothes away, I took the time to look around the bedroom, discovering nothing but girl's clothes in the closets. The yellow and white room I saw, had been a girl's room. Every day after school I would go in the store and tend to the chores, stocking the shelves, sweeping, whatever was needed. On Friday afternoon, I spilled a box of coloring dye all over my new pants, soaking me to the skin. I swept it up, but my pants were now so dirty that they needed to be tossed out. Marilyn heard me crying in the back and she rushed to find me sitting on a box weeping. "Raymond, why are you crying?" I stood up, and she saw the stains. I was afraid she would be very mad, and make me leave, but…"Is that all? We can fix that, but you can't wear them home, those are bound for the trash!" She looked around for something for me to wear home, then told me she did not have any boys clothes. Then a glimmer came to her eye. "Take all of your clothes off Raymond, I'll be right back."

In her arms she was carrying a pile of girls clothes! "Here, put these on." I looked at the clothes, and without a thought stepped into the panties. A slip followed by the dress which was pink with white trim. Then she gave me white shoes and socks. My hair was on the long side, so she took a brush out of her purse and began to brush my hair into a feminine style. Using a barrette she made me look like an attractive young lady! I looked in the mirror, shocked that the dress would make so much difference. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the dress, walking home like it was nothing to be wearing it. After dinner I went to my room, and looking in the full length mirror, saw myself as a young girl, and for the first time, something inside of me screamed yes! That night, lying in my bed, I dreamed of the girl in the mirror, and wondered why I didn't mind wearing that dress.

Saturday was the biggest day at the store, and I always worked there all day. I had made a decision while sleeping, and wen I appeared in the kitchen for breakfast, I was wearing the very same clothes I had worn home the night before. Marilyn saw me reflected in the window and slowly turned around. "You look very pretty today Raymond. Is that what you want to work in?" I didn't know what she wanted to hear, so he said; "I never wore a dress before. I kind of like it!" "I see. Well, if you are going to the store like that, then we have to find a new name for you, I can't call for Raymond and have you show up dressed like that!" She looked at me, a smile suddenly coming to her face. "How about Rachel? Can we call you Rachel?" "Yes Ma'am. Rachel is a pretty name." "Come and eat Rachel. We have a big day ahead of us."

In the store, I helped out as always, Marilyn always using the name Rachel when she talked to me. A few times, when it was slow, Marilyn saw me looking at some of the clothes on the racks. That night, Marilyn came to my room and sat on my bed so that we could talk. "Rachel, I saw you looking at the clothes in the store today, do you really like wearing girls clothes?" I had never had anything to be shy about, so I told her yes. "I don't know, it's like I'm a new person. Sometimes today, I even told myself I am a girl." "Then we'll just have to make you into a girl then won't we!" Marilyn went to the closet and pulled out some clothes. "I want you to try these on for me Rachel. Let's see what we can do to make you a girl." Skirts and dresses began to pile up on the bed. "You'll also need some different undergarments Rachel. I'm sure that you have noticed that most of the younger girls that come in the shop have breasts. You should too."

It was almost 9 that evening before we had sorted out what I could wear, and what was to small or large. "Tomorrow is Sunday. Why don't we go to church and maybe a dinner out… Rachel?" I smiled at that and gave Marilyn a hug. The next morning early, I was up bright and early. Marilyn had told me to wash my hair real good, so while I stood in the shower, I made sure that I was as clean as I could get. Marilyn came in wearing her robe and directed me in the mysteries of women's wear, starting with the training bra. It had small cups, which we filled out with thin socks, then the dress Marilyn chosen for me was blue with white trim on the neckline and sleeves was pulled over my head. The hemline was just below my knees. I began to glow as I put on the opaque pantyhose. My hairless legs encased in the thin nylon looked wonderful. Marilyn gave me a pair of black heels with a short heel, just 1" high, and I liked the sensation they gave me, even if I did totter a bit at first. "Follow me Rachel, we have to do something with your hair." Marilyn rubbed in a gel and began using rollers. By the time she was done, I had rollers all over my head. A plastic cap was put over my now roller clad head, and the dryer turned on. "Sit here while I get dressed."

By the time Marilyn returned my hair had dried and she began the process of brushing it out. Waves fell in a cascade around my head, with Marilyn trimming away some hair to make my bangs the right length. Then she sprayed it with hairspray. Marilyn opened a small jar of foundation and using two fingers, began to apply it to my face. A bit of blusher and a light rose lipstick completed my makeup. It was the first time I had ever worn makeup and the smell of it, the taste of it, the feel of it made me feel wonderful! Marilyn did her own hair, then came in and handed me a purse before we left for church. I was so excited that I forgot most of the people's names, but they had accepted me for what I appeared to be. A 13 year old girl!

In the restaurant, Marilyn told me about the news she had received the day before. "David called me yesterday and told me that the state has agreed to let me keep you with me… if you want to stay. You have to say so in court, and if you agree, I'll start adoption procedures." I immediately said yes, and this became our first dinner as a true family. "You have another semester until school lets out, so you'll have to keep going to school as Raymond, but next year you will be in a different school, so I'm not sure if you could go as Rachel; we'll have to wait and see." My smile lit up the table, and as Marilyn looked at me across the table from her, seeing a young pretty girl of Irish descent, her reddish hair atop her bright face. She thought back to the daughter she once had. Beverly was her name. She was killed in a bus accident on interstate 95 when a drunk swerved and hit the bus causing it to roll over a cliff and sink in a river. 18 children were killed that, the worst day of her life. She vowed to make me happy, and protect me.

I went to school every day, but on the weekends I became Rachel, and I became more adept at doing my own makeup and hair while mastering the various hooks, fasteners, and zippers of my clothes. David had met me as Rachel several times, but knowing his sister, he said nothing. By the time summer came around, I had a wardrobe of my own and I had been waiting on customers for several months. So many people had become used to seeing Rachel instead of Raymond that nobody associated us as the same person. Marilyn and I had appeared in front of another judge, (conflict of interest for David) and he gave Marilyn sole guardianship of me, and half an hour later, granted our wishes and allowed her to adopt me. A celebration was called for, so she made arrangements to meet her brother and his wife for dinner that night.

I was nervous when Marilyn suggested that they might as well tell her brother and his wife Nancy about my desire to keep dressing as a girl. She thought it would be easier for everybody, so I selected the outfit she liked best and began to dress. The simple cotton panties went on easily and I "tucked" myself to hide my small maleness. The bra was only slightly larger than the one I wore that first time, this one had an ÔAÕ cup. I had played around with several things to get just the right kind of "look" for my breasts, settling on the toes of an old pair of nylons filled with a measured amount of birdseed. I adjusted the bra and went to my bath. I had learned how to do my makeup and I used the foundation, applying it with two fingers, giving my skin an even tone. I used a light gray and rose eye shadow, a light brown eyeliner, and a rose blusher, then, in my room I took the dress from the hanger. It was black and white, the skirt black, the top white. I sat on my bed and pulled my pantyhose on, standing as I pulled them to her waist. The dress went over my head easily and settled on my shoulders until I pulled the zipper closed. The top had a sailors collar with points that ended just above my breasts. The skirt portion was pleated, the hemline above my knees at least 2". I stepped into my shoes, went to the mirror and traced her mouth with the light rose lipstick. White earrings and a beaded white necklace for jewelry. I ran a brush through my hair, using a white barrette for accent, then I took my purse and walked down the highly polished stairs to the living room.

David and Nancy were sitting with Marilyn when I walked in. "Oh my! David, you never told me she was so pretty!" David motioned for me to sit down. "Rachel, we would like you to talk to Nancy for a while. Your Mother and I will take a walk." I didn't have any idea what was going on, but I nodded my head yes and smiled sweetly at Nancy. When we were alone, Nancy asked me to sit close to her. "I read the reports about your Mothers death, and your living conditions before you came here. I talked to Mrs. Bertram from your old school. She said that you were a bright student in a terrible situation. She also mentioned that she thought that you might be easily intimidated. I wonder if you can tell me why you like dressing as a girl." I didn't have any real answers for her. "I guess from the first time I wore that dress home because I spilled dye on my clothes, I have known that I liked wearing girls clothes, It's like a light went on or something. Mar…. Mom, let me try it. I guess that I feel more comfortable like this than before. I'm so small that I was always picked on or ignored, heck, most of the girls in my class were even bigger than me! This way, I fit in better and I like it better." "I see. Can we talk again later? Just you and me?" "Sure! I'd like that." Nancy took my hand and we walked out on the porch just as David and Mom returned.

We went to a very nice restaurant by the river. Nancy paid close attention to the way I conducted myself, not finding anything out of the ordinary for a 13 year old girl. Given my background, she was amazed at my manners and polite demeanor. Marilyn must have noticed because she said; "Rachel and I have been having lessons in the evenings about good table manners. She learns quick." It was a pleasant dinner, with only one reference to me. "A Mr. Samuelson called the welfare office trying to check on you. He was worried when you never came back after your Mother died. Maybe you should call him. I have the number here." He pushed a slip of paper across the table to me. Later, back at home, Marilyn asked me if Nancy and I had a nice talk. "Sure. Aunt Nancy is real nice. She asked me a lot of questions about my dressing as a girl, but I didn't lie or nothing." "Anything dear, not nothing. Go change for bed now." I left for bed and Mom sat with her brother and his wife on the porch. "Well Nancy, did you learn anything beyond what I told you?" "He is not confused if that's what you mean. He truly likes being able to be a girl. I think that if you gave him a choice, he would chose to be a girl all of the time. He grew up in an atmosphere where reality is harsh and quick, and he has found a portion of himself that he had never experienced before, and he has accepted the reality like he always has. Rachel believes that she is a girl in a boys body. The question is what do we do about it." "If you let him dress as a girl all of the time, what about school? I don't want to see a repeat of what happened last year." David was recalling an incident in which a 14 year old boy hung himself. He was found dressed completely as a girl, his last thoughts written in a letter they found in his skirt pocket. It screamed of the terror of his predicament and his Fathers constantly beating him about it. The boys anguish came out clear, breaking his heart as he had read the letter. "I agree David. But if we changed his name and had a reasonable excuse for her to not attend gym classes, she could attend as Rachel full time." Nancy had a point. "I'll check into it, but I want her to tell me herself first."

Two days before my birthday I was sitting in the office of David Benson, Judge. The smell of the rich leather mixed with the aftershave of an attorney sitting next to me gave me a secure feeling. "Rachel, this is Greg Verson. He is an attorney I have appointed to represent you. Your Mother has explained to you the reason you are here, but I want you to tell Greg and I that what you want, is right for you." I recounted my reasons for liking to be a girl, and my wish to be able to be one all of the time. My attorney and the judge met in the corner for a moment, and when they were seated again, I was given a document to sign. "Now this isn't legal until Marilyn signs it, but it is an indication of your wishes. I now grant your request. You are now Rachel Beth Houser. Congratulations!"

For my 14^th birthday, Mom had planned a big party, inviting several of the girls that usually shopped at the store. I was on cloud nine as I greeted one guest after another. It was like no birthday I had ever had before. Many people were in the back on the patio when I answered the door again. Standing in front of me was Mr. Samuelson and his wife Naomi! "Hello little one. You look very pretty, just like I always knew you would." I hugged them tightly and escorted them to the back. "Mom, this is Mr. And Mrs. Samuelson." I added, somewhat proudly, "my Grandparents… kinda" That brought smiles to their aged faces. "Has she been a good girl for you Mrs. Houser? We miss her so much." A shriek from the backyard drew her attention and Marilyn went to sort things out. I took their hands and led the way to the party.

Many of the girls knew me from the store, and they stood in a group surrounding me. "We're going to the pool on Friday Rachel. You just have to come! That's where we meet the guys!" It was the voice of Kelly, the bubbly one. Claire and Cheryl said it would be fun, but I couldn't swim. "I don't even have a swimsuit! I can't swim either!" They all knew that I had gone through something traumatic, and that I had been adopted, but they didn't know anything else about me. I wanted to have girlfriends badly, so I gave them an abbreviated version, adding that the Samuelsons were like Grandparents to her. "Heck Rachel, you don't need to swim, just stand there and let the boys flock to you. That's what we do!" "I'll have to ask Mom, but it'll probably be okay.

The gifts ranged from scarves to complete outfits from David and Nancy, to jewelry and makeup from the girls. It was a wonderful party, the best I had ever had. Mom said that if the Samuelsons wanted to stay with us they could, so I asked them, pleaded with them, to stay a few days. "Okay little one. A few days." Naomi had always seen a feminine streak in me and was the least surprised by the change in how I lived. She gave me an old family heirloom. "I want you to have this Rachel. It was my Mothers. Since we have no children, and you adopted us as Grandparents, I want you to have it." It was a very delicate ivory cross set in filigreed gold. It was about the size of a half dollar and hung from a gold chain. It was the best present I ever got. "Mom! Mom! Look at what Grandma gave me!" I rushed over and held the pendant in my hand. "Marilyn knew value when she saw it, but she also knew that it came from the heart. When she had invited them, Naomi had told her a bit about themselves. "We had two children. The Nazi's took us and we were separated into different camps. We lived in Hungary then. I was unable to find them, or Yven until three years after the war. I found Yven in an Army camp where he was working as a nurses aide. The children had been buried in a mass grave outside Warsaw. We never had any other children, and until Raymond, excuse me, Rachel came along, my Yven was always miserable. Look. Look at them now." Marilyn turned around and saw me sitting next to him, just talking, but he had a wide smile on his face and his eyes, Naomi saw, glittered for the first time in many years. "She is a gift Marilyn. She has the gift to make people happy. She will make some man very happy some day. You I will cry at her wedding, but she will be thinking only of him." Marilyn saw the pain of Naomi's loss in her words, those lost moments after her children were killed, but also the joy that Rachel brought them.

The next day, under the eagle eyed supervision of both Naomi and Mom, I bought my very first swimsuit. It was dark blue with a short skirt attached to it. I was now 14 and using a slightly larger breastform, but Mom knew that we would have to change that pretty quickly, especially after she saw me in a swimsuit! Later, mom treated us all at the beautyshop. I had my very first girl hair style. It was a pageboy, but with the curls permed into the ends. Mom said it was very attractive on me. By the time they got home I was beat. So much excitement had left me limp with tension. I sat next to my newly adopted Grandpa, and fell right asleep with his strong arms around me. Neither of us moved and he refused to let Mom wake me. "She is so tired, and I miss this so much. Let her stay here with me." Marilyn could not say no.

The Samuelsons had to leave the next day, but we all promised to stay in touch. I saw the tears in their eyes as they drove away, afraid that I might not see them again. "We have to get you to a doctor Rachel. You are at a point where we need to consider medication that will allow you to have your own breasts. I called Doctor Stacey and made an appointment for tomorrow morning. He already knows about your situation, so don't be nervous.

I walked into the doctors office and sat in the waiting room until my name was called. Dr. Stacey was an older man with many years experience. He gave me a complete physical, the first I had ever had. He checked all of my bodily fluids, gave me a pulmonary function test, weight, height, muscle tone, everything. It took 3 hours. I sat on the small examining table wearing one of those robes that leaves your backside open, slightly chilled while he read the results of the tests. "So you want to be a girl. You even changed your name I see. Okay. I'll give you something to take. You follow the instructions exactly and see me once a month. I'll leave so you can get dressed." I looked at the prescription, unable to decipher the words, but I knew that I was about to take a major step towards being a true girl.

Friday morning I sat in the tub soaking while I shaved the few hairs I had started on my face, doing my legs and arms as well. I pulled my suit out of my dresser and stepped into it, extra careful to make sure that no sign of my maleness showed. I brushed my hair out, put on a pair of shorts, and went down the stairs. "I'm going Mom, I'll be back by dinner time." "Okay honey, have a good time." I met Kelly and Claire at Cheryl's house and the four of us walked to the pool. Cheryl had the best figure. She was full bodied like her Mother with wider hips and larger breasts. Kelly, like myself, had just started to blossom, while Claire was average in her figure. A small bust and a slight widening of the hips. We staked out a table, gathered some lounge chairs, and it wasn't long before the young men started to stop by the table. My fair skin drew admiring glances from one of them, but he never gathered the nerve to come and talk to her. Claire was the one that noticed him watching me. "Hey! Rachel! See that guy over by the diving board? He's been watching you since we got here. That's Carol Fruson's brother Brad." I turned to look at him. "So? He's kinda cute, but if he wants to talk to me he'll have to come over here!" The girls all nodded their heads in agreement, but Claire got up and walked around the pool, stopping near him. We saw you watching Rachel Brad. If you want to meet her I'll do the introductions, but you have to come over to see her." She walked away, her message delivered in the time honored fashion of many young girls…. by a friend.

As things usually go, it was just before I had to leave when Brad came over and sat down. Claire made the introductions. "Maybe I'll see you here again Rachel." I just smiled at him and said "maybe. " He watched as I walked away, my hips swaying in a very feminine way. For the next few days, until Sunday, I worked at the store. The summer hours were shorter, so Mom and I had time to do things in the evening. I had been helping in the kitchen every night, trying to learn to cook. Mom was almost 53 when I came to stay with her, and she seemed tired sometimes. It was a way for me to let her just rest. That night I fixed her Mom's favorite, spaghetti and garlic bread with string beans and almonds. After dinner we slipped on our robes and lounged on the patio watching television.

It was three weeks before Brad called me. He asked me to go to a show on Saturday night. I had never had a date before, and Mom laid down the law about what was proper and what was not, for young ladies to allow their dates to do. I wore a short skirt and a sweater. Brad was nervous, and mom guessed that it was his first date too. He treated me politely, not quite sure what to do. His arm went around my shoulder in the theater and I moved closer to him. In my dream like state I missed most of the movie. At my doorstep, he tried to kiss me, but he kissed my chin instead. On the second try he did just fine, then I went in and closed the door behind myself, smiling broadly as I relived every moment of the evening.

By August I began to sense a tingling in my nipples and mentioned it to mom. "Let me see." I took my blouse and bra off. Small mounds were beginning to appear, my aureoles were swelling and there was a definite breast development. "It looks like you'll have breasts pretty soon Rachel. I would guess by October you won't need the forms any more." That was wonderful news to my ears! School started 2 days before Labor day, and I was just one of several hundred students. I was assigned a classroom, given my books, and I began my first year of high school. The doctor had been seeing me monthly, pleased with my progress, the hormones he had started me on, doing their work. By October, just like mom had predicted, I could wear a full A cup bra without any other filling than myself. I excelled in school, especially Math and English. At Christmas time I called and asked if my adopted Grandparents would like to spend the holiday with us, and they agreed. Mom and I met them at the train station a few days before Christmas.

By now I had developed a B cup, my hips had widened, my figure 34-23-35. All signs of the waif that had landed there just those few months ago gone. In every action, mannerism, movement, and shape, I was a young girl. Naomi and Yven, on their visits, doted on me and I soaked it up like all kids do. I had Yven wrapped around my little finger. Because my diet had improved I began to grow, and by the time I was 16, I was a trim 112 pounds at 5'3" tall and wore a perfect size 8. In high school I had been taking computer classes, and with a little urging I convinced mom to let me update the stores records. By the end of my junior year I was doing all of the books and ordering clothes for the store. Profits had increased with my ability to quickly order whatever we needed. I had also started to make a few investments. With mom's approval, I had turned a few thousand dollars into several hundred thousand. Yven and Naomi had wanted to sell their store, so I urged them to move closer, which they did. They now lived just a few miles away.

As I grew to become a woman, Brad became a man. He had grown to be over 6 foot tall, strong and well muscled. He and I had become really good friends, but his heart was with Cheryl. Kelly, Claire and I were still unattached as we started their last year in high school. Christmas was always a fun time at their house, with the addition of Yven, Naomi, and I was in heaven. Mom, who had been 7 years without her own daughter before I came along, now felt that life was worth living again. She didn't say anything, but she quietly took down all of the pictures of Beverly, replacing them with mine. Mom had a wonderful picture of the 4 of us centered on the mantle. It was Yven's favorite, so this year, as a gift, mom and I had a larger one made just for him. I had a new friend, Doug. Like Brad, he was tall, fair haired with deep black eyes that made me quiver whenever he looked at me. We all had a wonderful time, opening gifts, and laughing, Yven, his care worn face lighting up whenever I sat next to him. The joy I brought to him made his 75 years seem to melt away. The only dark look from him came when I introduced him to Doug. It was just a passing look, but both mom and Naomi caught it.

I went to a college nearby so I could keep working in the store on the weekends. I was in the store, just closing up, when the phone rang. "Rachel, go to the hospital right away… now! It's Naomi!" mom's voice carried the stress of pain, and I quickly locked up and sped to the hospital. Yven was in the waiting room, tears streaming down his face as he quietly sobbed. "She is gone Rachel. The doctors, they did everything they could." It was like I had been punched. The pain of the loss was almost unbearable for me, but I knew it was worse for Grandpa. I put my arms around him and we sat there not knowing what else to do. Mom with David and Nancy, took us home. Yven was in the room next to mine and I could hear his gentle sobs as he cried for his only love to come back. It was a hard night for everyone.

Kelly and Claire called the next morning and offered to work the store so we could take a few days off. The days after the funeral were filled with the occasional moans and sobs, Yven filling his days looking at old pictures of the only woman he ever loved. It was I that brought him to reality. Sitting next to him, I took his hand in mine, the rough knarled surface gone soft, yet I felt the strength still there. "Grandpa, she is gone now and nothing can replace her. But I need you, more than ever before. I'll be having my surgery soon, and when I get married, I need you to walk me down the aisle. You were always there for me before, and I still need you." He took me into his arms and cradled my head against his chest. I was the one that adopted them, not the other way around. I was the one that made their lives worth living after all of those years of denying the deaths of their children. I was the one that made him feel like life had meaning after all. He remembered the small, underfed boy that used to sweep out his store, now a beautiful, smart, young woman. He loved me like I was his own, and in a sense I was. We sat there arm in arm for several hours, until I fell asleep against his chest, and he with his head on mine.

I went to school, studying accounting and graduated with a degree in economics. My investments for mom had allowed us enlarge the store, and we now employed 4 on our sales staff. The doctor had scheduled my surgery months before, and just a few days after I turned 21, I underwent the surgery that would allow Doug and I to be a complete family. It was merely the cap to a life filled with discovery, and fulfillment for me. Doug asked me to marry him, and in a large wedding, Yven, slightly stooped in his 80 years, yet smart in his tuxedo, proudly walked me down the aisle to meet my soon to be husband. Doug was working for a developer that built homes, and he and I settled into our own home. Two years later they adopted a baby girl, naming her Naomi. Yven was so happy he almost jumped up and down. He held the child in his arms and saw around her neck, a simple white ivory cross in a filigree setting on a gold chain.

(the end)

 

 

© 1999
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.

At the request of the author, this story is presented in 12 point, Times New Roman.