The Spencer Girls

by Ashley Steele

 

I just froze. I was a deer caught in the headlights as I heard our neighbor, Hank Jones, yell out that he thought that I was a girl and his wife thought so to. It just had to be the biggest gossips in Rivervale to see me dressed like this.

Soon, Sandy Jones came out to the porch to see what her husband was so excited about and once she saw me, she exclaimed that she was right.

"Oh my, Hank. I knew I was right. She's too pretty to be a boy and I could never understand the reason why you wanted dress like one", remarked Sandy Jones. Was this her idea, Faith, asked Sandy.

"We just wanted to see what she would look like", answered my mom.

"what is her name? Is it a form of Andy like Andrea".

"no, it's Amy Louise", answered my mom again.

I was couldn't even speak for myself, I was completely speechless as I let my mother do all the talking. All I could do was to panic and run for the safety of the house.

"Why that poor thing, said Sandy Jones. She must be so self-conscious about her budding femininity. She shouldn't have to be, pretty little thing that she is. This reminds me of our daughter, Beth. She is just the opposite if Amy. Beth has preferred fixing and remodeling cars with her father to wearing dresses and dressing up".

"Sandy, I've often noticed that when Beth comes home she never wears dresses or skirts anymore. In fact, she spends most of her time out in the garage with her father".

"Beth is a typical gear head like her father. She can fix anything in a matter of minutes. I suppose she is more the son that Hank always wanted".

"what does Beth do up in Hartford, anyway, Sandy?".

"she works for my brother at his auto body shop. As soon as she graduated from high school last year, the boy inside of her came out. I've never seen her happier".

"well, Sandy, I better go and check on Amy, bye".

"well before you go. May I ask what size Amy takes".

"A size four. Why do you ask"?

"it's just that when Beth left home, she left all her dresses and skirts. I think that some of them could fit Amy".

"why thank you Sandy. I'm sure Amy can always use some more outfits".

I had made a mad dash through the house up to my room. Unable to see anything through my tears, I threw myself on my bed and cried. I just wanted to die. My life was over. Our neighbors think that I'm a girl and had always thought that way.

It was then that I hear a knock on my bedroom door and my mother came in and sat down to take me into her arms.

"oh momma! The Joneses think I'm a girl and they've always thought that way. What are we going to do. Why didn't you set them straight and tell them that I was a boy?"

"think about it for a minute, Amy. If I would've said that you were really a boy, then you would've been ruined. Remember that the Joneses are the biggest gossips in town.

"that's what upsets me the most, mom. Right now those two are on the phone starting the town grapevine that I'm a girl and that by tomorrow everyone in Rivervale will think that I'm a girl".

"that's what I'm trying to get at. If I told them that you were really a boy, it would be a lot worse. You'd be the town laughingstock. You could be in physical danger. A target of bullies".

As I get up saying, "I guess you have a point", mom.

For the first time I notice my bedroom. The whole room had been changed. the walls had been repainted. What had once been light blue walls and white around the windows and the trim is now painted white with light blue trim around the window frames and doors. All around the room, near the ceiling is pastel flowered wallpaper border all around the room.

The walls are not the only thing that has been changed. My bed is now a white whicker frame. Also are the dresser, a rocking chair, a student's desk, with my Dell laptop on it.

My CD player/stereo sits on top of the dresser. Looking all around my room, I notice that my room now looks like a girl's room—all soft and pretty.

"my room. What did you do to it"?

" that was my surprise for you when we got home. This is the reason that I was in such a hurry to get us out of here this morning. They sooner the workmen were able to start the sooner they were able to finish", answered my mom.

 

At this point, the doorbell rings and my mom gets up and says to me; "that must be the delivery people with the your new wardrobe. Lets get it upstairs and put away. I'll help you".

Thirty minutes later, my mother and I had finished hanging my new clothes in my dressers and closet and boy clothes boxed up and put in the attic.

"why don't you finish any homework you may have while I go downstairs to start supper", suggested mom.

"I still have a few chapters to read for American history class on Monday".

"Good, I'll call you when supper is ready. OK, honey".

"sure mom".

As I settled down at my desk to begin reading my history assignment, it suddenly dawned on me that I've been Amy Spencer for over twenty-four hours and that I haven't even answered to my real name. Even my mother, as great as she is, has been treating me differently. When I say differently, I mean on a whole different level. It's like I'm on the same plane of existence as her—I feel closer to her as I have ever been before.

I just have to keep this out of my mind and remember to trust my mom as I've always trusted her. For now, I have to finish reading this chapter.

About another hour later, as I'm closing my textbook, my mom calls me down for dinner.

As I stand and turn around, I feel the swirl of my skirt causing my heart to skip a beat and confusing me even more.

"what is going on with you, Amy", I ask myself. Oh great! Now I'm starting to call myself Amy.

"come on Amy, dinner is waiting", yells my mom, jolting me out of my reverie.

"I'm coming mom", I responded and headed downstairs.

 

As my mom and I are sitting down to a light dinner of salad, fruit, and some skinned chicken breast, I begin the conversation with a question.

"what are we going to do mom? I'm sure that Mr. and Mrs. Jones have already told most of the town that they think that I'm a girl".

"Amy, while you were upstairs doing your homework, I talked to Aunt Janice about that subject. We feel that we have two options; one is to go back to being Andy. The problem with this option is we wouldn't be able to live here anymore because here everyone is starting to think that you're a girl and you could be the victim of bullies everywhere. The second option would be to play this out as Amy. We'll make another trial run tomorrow by going to a church where nobody knows us well in order to get peoples' reaction. How does these things sound to you"?

"I don't really want to leave a town where I've lived my whole life and it wouldn't be fair to you since you would be leaving your successful real estate office. So I suppose I could give tomorrow's trial run at church a try and see how it goes", I answered.

"I guess that's it then. We'll be going to church. I must say that it never ceases to amaze me to the fact that I not only have a extremely beautiful daughter but she's also mature too".

"mom", I cried out.

"Extremely sensitive also", teased my mom.

 

An hour later, when dinner is finished and the dishes are washed, dried, and put away, my mother suggests that the both of us get undressed and ready for bed but telling me on the way up that she really enjoyed seeing me dressed up in her clothes all day.

Moments later we are both curled on the couch watching TV like any other Saturday night except for that we are both wearing nightgowns.

 

At the Joneses next door

"damn", Sandy swore .

That was the fifth time that she had reread the same paragraph. She just couldn't concentrate on the magazine article that she was trying to finish. It had been like this all evening. Ever since she realized that she had been right about Andy (or should I say Amy Spencer). Yes, that's it. Sandy couldn't stop thinking about Amy's face. She had one of those rare porcelain china doll complexions that most girls would kill for. That china doll face reminded Sandy of the numerous dolls that she collected as a young girl.

"yes, that's it exactly, Sandy thought. It's that perfect face with the delicate features that didn't have a single blemish that made her certain that child was a girl".

Sandy never knew of a single boy that had a face like that. Even her own daughter and herself, for that matter, had been plagued with acne when they were younger than Amy is now. Even now, both she and Beth have the pockmarks from their individual bouts with acne.

Her mother must be where she gets it from—Faith Spencer has that same complexion. Sandy was certain that Amy would be like her mother—in that she would keep that perfect face.

"Oh hell with it. I might as well give trying to read this damn article and go to sleep", exclaimed Sandy to her sleeping husband.

The next morning, Amy awoke to the same bright sunny day as the day before. I pull on my new white and pink bathrobe and start downstairs to find that my mom had already started the coffee. As I was pouring my first cup, my mother says to me;

"I'm glad that you haven't dressed yet, Amy. I think you'd look nice wearing my white sheath dress while I can wear your new blue one for church today", suggested my mom.

I'll leave it up to you, mom. I still don't have any idea of what colors go with what".

"Don't worry about that. You'll soon learn as you go", reassured mom.

"It seems like you're getting such a charge in seeing me dressed up in your clothes", I added.

"well, we better get dressed if we're going to church", mom said without responding to my comment.

 

As my mother and I walk up the front stairs and into the church, I feel every eye on me.

I'm wearing my mother's white sheath dress, pantyhose, and one inch white pumps. My mother is wearing my blue sheath dress, pantyhose, and one inch blue pumps. I can only suppose they want to see the freak coming to church as they are looking my way.

An acquaintance of my mother spots us and walks over to our pew and sits down next to us.

"Faith, I just had to see your daughter all dressed up. I could never understand the reason why she wanted to be a boy all the time, even wanting to be called Andy. I'm just glad that you finally came around to being a girl.

Amy, as pretty as you are, that tomboy thing wasn't working".

"Thank you Irene, Amy is only trying to see how she likes it".

Feeling kind of trapped, I can only say;

"Thank you ma'am, Your very kind".

After the service, I heard more of the same as Irene told me. They're were comments like; you were too pretty to be a boy, I knew that you were a girl all along", "you and your mother look like sisters", etc.

The only good thing about this day was that I met a girl my own age by the name of Cindy Jacobs. She had soft green eyes and long brown hair and it turns out that she was new in town just I was going to be. She and her mother had moved to town after her parents divorced.

Throughout the rest of the day, Cindy and I were inseparable. While my mother and her mother, Jessica, got to know each other, we goofed around together all day. Of all the people that I met as Amy, not one person even suspected that I was a boy. So far, I was being accepted and noticed as Amy Louise Spencer, the pretty teenage daughter of Faith Anne Spencer.

Later that day, my mother, Mrs. Jacobs, Cindy, and myself decided to have a picnic at a nearby park being it was such a nice autumn afternoon. I had such a great time with Cindy that I had forgotten that I was really a boy.

By that night, before I went to bed I started a diary of my experiences as my life as Amy. I would write down everything that were my most secret thoughts and feelings.

Well I better get to bed because tomorrow is going to by my first school day as Amy and I'm nervous as hell.

  

  

  

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