Found Family: Chapter 2 by Clara Copyright© 2025 Clara Schumann Mary's cousin Connor came over to watch ball with the boys, but in coming over, Connor finds out some things about himself and Connie emerged from her prison!

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Author's Note: I trust that all of you found the first chapter a good read despite the concern with pressure cookers :P Moving on past that, I do hope that all of you find this chapter a little bit more towards your liking. I kept the heat on low so as to bring out the better flavors. As always, please leave me a comment and let me know what you all think of this tale. I am always striving to be a better author. ~Clara.

Image Credit: https://perchance.org/beautiful-people
 
 
Chapter 2
‘When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching -- they are your family.’ - Jim Butcher
 
 
Breakfast had been sliced strawberries, sliced bananas and some hardtack with Twinings English Breakfast tea while listening to a podcast he enjoyed. It was too comic actors who’d been on the same TV show at one time. They discussed the show and had on guests who had connections to the production. It was just light conversation that made him smile.

He washed up the dishes he’d dirtied, dried them, returned them to their cabinets and then headed into his walk-in shower, bringing his phone along to continue the podcast.

He’d barely gotten his hair wet when his doorbell app sounded. His landlord had installed one of these wireless doorbells systems at every entrance recently, but it was rare that it ever rang, and even rarer that it would ring this early.

He stepped out of the shower and dried his hand, grabbed his phone, and opened the app. Standing at his entrance was Mary. That was very odd.

“Mare?” He asked.

“Obviously,” she said, sounding a bit snarky. “Come let me in.”

“I was in the shower…”

“Good. Then my timing is perfect. Open up.”

He shook his head. What the heck was she doing here this early? He hadn’t even had time to launder her dress.

“I’ll be right down.”

He grabbed his robe, didn’t bother to wrap his hair, and ran down the stairs barefoot and naked, save for the robe. He opened the door and Mary entered with a large toolbox and headed up the stairs. “Come on. I haven’t got all day,” she said, hustling.

“All day for what?”

“To turn you back into a princess, Cinderella,” she giggled, entering the apartment and heading for the kitchen table where she rested her toolbox. “God, your place is always immaculate. How do you keep it this way?’

“I clean it,” he said, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on.”

“How often do you dust?”

“I dust one room every day. Don’t you?”

“Are you insane?”

“Apparently. Why are you here so early?”

“My cousin informs me that you have finally seen the light and plan to come over to the female side full time. I’m here to help.”

Connor’s jaw dropped. His conversation with Toni hadn’t even been an hour ago. How had Mary found out so quickly? “I… I never said full time…’ he sputtered.

Mary put her hands on her hips. “Look, Connie… I do the hair of a lot of trans-girls, ambiguous guys… you name it, and let me tell you, none of them is as naturally cute as you are. You were born to be pretty, young lady, and I’m here to help.”

She opened her toolbox and pulled out a pink pump bottle of something. “Take off the robe, sweetie, and let’s get started.”

“My robe? I’m not wearing anything under this.”

“So?”

“So!?”

“Oh, come on, Connie. We’ve gotten dressed for the beach together hundreds of times. I’ve seen your winkle a million times and you’ve seen my boobs as many times as my husband. Unless you’ve grown another one since we went swimming this summer, there’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Come on, the clock’s ticking.”

Connor shrugged. She was right of course, but it was still odd to do it right here in his kitchen. He took off the robe and laid it neatly over the back of one of his pressed-back kitchen chairs.

While he did that, Mary reached into her bag of tricks and produced a banana clip. She wound his hair quickly and secured it with the clip, then put on some latex gloves before pumping some of the pinky-white fluid in the pink pump bottle into the palm of her hand. “How often do you shave?”

“Not very.”

“Good. Then you won’t miss it,” she said as she carefully smeared the pasty fluid over what should have been his beard area.

“Wait,” Connor said, a little alarmed, “is this hair removal cream?”

“It’s called ‘Veet,’ and yes, it removes hair, and it works faster than most and won’t irritate sensitive areas.”

“Sensitive areas?” Connor thought for a second. “Oh, no you don’t…”

“Oh, hush, you big baby.” Mary finished coating his face. Then set the stove timer for six minutes. At about three minutes, I’ll coat another part of you. You should be hairless in about a half hour.”

“Yesterday you said I didn’t have much body hair so it didn’t matter.”

“Yesterday was just for a lark, Connie. I just didn’t want you to look icky. This is for real. Women don’t have body hair.”

“Of course they do,” Connor scoffed. “They’re mammals.”

“Women remove their body hair, then. Unless you want to be a woman with hair like an ape.”

“Toni only does it in the summer for the beach. After the water gets cold she doesn’t shave until May or June.”

“Yeah, well my cousin is not the most ladylike woman I know. She never wears dresses. Since you’re the one who’ll be in dresses, you need to be the lady.”

“Is there a rule that I have to wear just dresses?”

“Yes. Now shut up and let me coat your chest.”

After his chest had been coated, Mary took a spatula looking device and removed the cream from Connor’s face. “There,” she smiled. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

Just about a half hour later, Connor was as smooth as any new born baby.

“Into the shower with you,” Mary ordered, and use this body wash.” She handed him a bottle of Olay body wash.

“Will this remove the toxins from the other stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said, “but you’ll smell like pretty peaches and cherry blossoms and smelling pretty is part of being pretty. Now get in there. I’ll be in with shampoo and conditioner.”

Connor’s doorbell rang app again. He turned to grab his phone, but Mary stopped him. “That’s just Amy. I’ll let her in.”

“Why is Amy here?”

“She has some clothes for you. Now, stop asking questions and get into that shower!”

Connor had never had a less private shower. Every few minutes Mary came in with shampoo, or conditioner or powder to use afterward… it was nonstop. Amy came in a few times and asked a few questions about shoe size, waist size, etc.

When he was done, he turbaned his hair in a towel and looked at himself in the mirror. Completely hairless and naked, he looked like a little boy, but a little boy with sculpted eyebrows and the remains of enough mascara and eyeliner to make his eyes look large and innocent… and female.
 

 
“I’m going to see Mrs Gray at her home this morning,” H. Eleanore Bentley told her receptionist in an email. “I should be back in by mid afternoon. I’ll swing by the office before I head up to Sandwich. I’ll in around ten. If you have a few minutes, please gather the paperwork I need to bring to Connie. There’s an expandable brown folder on my desk with his name on it. If you are aware of anything else I need to bring him, please put it in there for me.”

 Julia, Heather’s secretary, knew that Mrs Gray was a very wealthy client of H. Eleanore Bentley and that Heather’s half-brother, Connie (what an absurd name for a man), lived in one of her buildings, of which she owned several, up in Sandwich. She glanced at her watch. Not nearly time to be doing office work, but she figured that responding would look good. So she emailed back, “You got it, boss.” There. That ought to score a few brownie points.
 

 
Connor opened the door a crack. “May I have my robe, please?” He called out. Amy appeared and passed it to him.

While he’d been in the shower, Mary had transformed his impeccably tidy kitchen into a rather messy beauty salon. “Sit, sit, sit,” she said in a harried tone. “It’s after eight and we all have jobs to get to.

Connor sat in one of his pressed-back chairs and Mary went to work on his hair.

“Give me your hand,” Amy said, in a tone less commanding than Mary.

Connor extended his hand to her and she placed it on one of his folding tables. “Why?”

“I’m going to apply acrylic nails and polish them.”

“Nails? I have to type all day. I can’t have claws on my fingers.”

Amy waved her very sensibly long nails in front of him. “These aren’t claws, Connie. Relax and let me do what needs to be done.”
 

 
“Good morning,” Toni said to her colleagues when they all gathered on the side of Route 6 that morning. There were eight of them out there. Representatives from the towns of Truro and Provincetown, three of her superiors from the Highway Department, a representative from the Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection and another engineer named Don, who, like Toni, would end up trying to figure out a practical way to implement whatever the higher-ups considered to be a viable solution to a terrible traffic problem.

They all sipped coffee and looked around at the narrow strip of land between the beaches and the sand dunes. For the next hour or so, ideas were thrown out and tossed around, but none of them were going to work, due mostly to the environmental impact.

“If I may point out something from an engineering standpoint,” Toni finally offered.

“Please do,” on of her bosses said.

“I don’t think the real problem is the highway. There are plenty of exits into P-Town. Yeah, the traffic backs up out here on the main access road, but the problem is actually P-Town itself.”

“Meaning?” The Provincetown representative asked defensively.

“Meaning the streets in P-Town are too narrow, there are way too many residences, not enough sidewalks for the massive amount of foot traffic, no bike lanes, not enough public parking to accommodate the tourist traffic, almost no public transportation and just too damned many people coming to visit all summer.”

One of her bosses was smiling. He liked what she’d said. The other boss looked at the second engineer and asked, “Do you share this opinion?”

Don, the second engineer, a guy that Toni knew well from other projects, pondered for a moment. “Well…” he took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah… I do. I may not have stated it quite so bluntly, but, yeah. The problem isn’t the highway, the problem occurs after the drivers leave the main road and head into town. Then the traffic backs up out here.”

The Provincetown rep barked, “So what are you two suggesting? That we level the whole historic town and start all over again just to make traffic flow more easily?”

“Alright, let’s all calm down,” one of Toni’s bosses said. “Obviously the Commonwealth can’t just come into P-Town and run roughshod all over the place, but maybe there’s something we can do to help. Let’s take a drive around and see how we might be able to help.”

They all headed for their cars. As Don passed Toni’s truck he said, “Nice job, Toni. Looks like we’ll be in town for lunch and I love the smokey seafood chowder at The Squealing Pig. Let’s hope they haven’t closed for the season. If they’re open, lunch is on me.”
 

 
“One last thing before we get you dressed,” Mary said, holding what looked like the butt of a pistol in her hand. She then held what looked like diamond stud earrings in front of Connor and said, “Do you like these? They’re not diamonds, of course, but they do look nice and go with everything. You’ll need to keep them in for a couple of weeks.”

“They’re earrings,” Connor said, a tad confused.

“That’s right.”

I don’t have pierced ears, though.”

In what seemed like a second, Mary loaded the earring into her gun, placed the gun on his right earlobe and pulled the trigger.

“Ow! Hey!” Connor protested, shocked and confused.

“And now you have a pierced ear.” She moved to the left side, loading her weapon on the way. “Now stay still and you’ll have two in a second.”

He barely felt the second piercing. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he said in a somewhat whiny voice.

Amy held the handheld mirror in front of him. “Look how pretty you look with them, though.”

Connor looked. They were very pretty and they made him look pretty, too, and he liked that. He raised a hand to touch them and noticed the deep red fingernails on his hands. They were pretty, too and they matched the deep red lipstick Mary had applied to his lips.

“Well, what do you think?” Mary asked.

When he didn’t answer, Amy said, “I think he’s overwhelmed. He looks beautiful, Mare. Let’s get him dressed.”

“Here,” Mary said, handing him a clean pair of silky panties. These were dripping in lace.

“Are all of your underpants this fancy?” Connor asked, sliding the panties up his legs under the robe.

“Most,” Mary replied, not feeling the need to inform him of her need for cotton panties at certain times of the month.

“Why?”

“Why!?” Mary mocked, looking shocked. “Connie, what do you think I do for a living?”

“Cut hair, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Connor,” she said, folding her arms across her belly, “a barber cuts hair. I make people beautiful. That’s what I do. And being beautiful isn’t just about nice hair and makeup.”

“It’s not?”

“Of course not, Connie. It’s about making someone feel beautiful. I help them smooth their skin. Cover the imperfections that annoy them. Make the most of what they have. And that includes understanding clothes, Connie. Smooth skin against silky smooth material is a miraculous feeling. Those panties, the bra I loaned you, the slip I’m about to have you put on… these are all designed for soft, silky experiences. Then we complete the look with a beautiful dress or blouse and skirt. Beauty is about every aspect of you, Connie, and feminine beauty is all about the look, the feel, the attitude… you’ll learn, little girl.”

“And you’ll love it,” Amy contributed. “I’ve always thought you were meant to be a woman, Connie. Everything about you is petite and cute. And you’ve always been one of us girls. We’re just happy you finally realized it.”

The slip hung a little loose and wonderfully cool and silky on his body. Then came a gold blouse. Again, silky to the touch. It buttoned somewhat loosely around him, but the material still seemed to show the bosom created by the padded, push-up bra.

Then came the skirt. It was soft and loose and full with a black background that was covered in roses. Roses that were deep red that matched his fingernails and lips perfectly.

Mary grabbed a wide belt of black leather to place around the high waistline the skirt created, while Amy bent down and put shoes on his feet.

The shoes were the same red as the roses, but they were flat soled and showed a good deal of the top of his foot before his toes disappeared into the red leather bow that covered toe box. The flats felt different than the heels he’d worn the previous day. In fact, they made him feel a little shorter than he did when he wore his usual Crocs. He looked at them and marveled at their simplicity and odd beauty. Why would a shoe look beautiful? He just thought of shoes as functional.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Amy asked, rousing him from his thoughts.

“They are. And it’s weird… they show so much skin, but they make my feet look smaller.”

Amy shrugged. “I guess. I just always thought they were cute.”

“Are they yours?” Connor asked.

“They were,” Amy said, smiling. “They’re yours now. They haven’t fit me since I was a junior in high school. When Mare told me she was coming over to get you dolled up, I ran to my mom’s and grabbed a few things I thought would fit you. Looks like I guessed right, huh?”

Connor blushed a little. “I guess.” He looked at both friends, Amy patting him and admiring how cute he looked, and Mary hustling to pack up all of her equipment. “Hey, guys…” he said, “…thanks for all of this. Toni is going to flip when she sees me.”

“Well, you like it too, right?” Mary asked.

He blushed deeper. “I do, Mare. Thanks.”

“I can’t believe you were never curious about how you’d look as a girl before,” Amy said. “I mean, you were always with us. Shopping, getting our hair done, talking about guys, getting ready for dates… You never wanted to try being a girl?”

He shrugged. “Well… kinda, maybe, but... I mean, I loved watching you guys becoming beautiful women and all, and I was happy for you, but… I guess I never looked at women the way other guys did.”

“What do you mean?” Mary asked.

“You know,” he shrugged. “If a beautiful girl walks by a group of guys, you hear the stupid ‘I’d screw her’ remarks and stuff like that, but… I just always loved the way women looked and moved and… you know what I mean.”

“We do,” Amy assured him.

“And Toni…” he started then stopped.

“What about Toni?” Mary asked.

He thought for a moment. He really hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I know most guys wouldn’t find Toni all that attractive, but to me… since the first time she came to visit when we were little kids, I’ve just always thought that she was the coolest, most good-looking girl I’d ever seen.”

Mary smiled. “Toni’s always known who and what she was, Connie. She’s a cis-woman with a masculine bent to her, and she’s no lady, but she’s all woman, and let me tell you something… Toni has been just as infatuated with you as you have been with her. Every time I talked to her when we were kids, the first thing she’d ask me was how Connie was.”

“You two were made for each other,” Amy smiled, then she noticed the clock on the stove. “Oh, shoot! I have to go! It’s almost nine. Let me just get a quick picture of you.” She grabbed her phone and took a quick shot of Connor.

‘Send that to me. I have to run, too,” Mary said, grabbing her toolboxes. She kissed Connor’s cheek as she headed for the door. Amy gave him a kiss too, and out the door they went.

Connor quickly wiped down the kitchen table to get rid of any residual makeup or other beauty products, made sure his apartment was all in order again, then grabbed his laptop and decided to use the ‘bill-paying-desk’ in the living room instead of the little IKEA desk in his home office, which was the small half-bedroom, and signed in at 8:59 am as usual.
 

 
“Oh, geez, look at this,” Bill chuckled as he glanced at the photo that had just arrived on his phone. He showed it to Joe. They both worked in the same company, Capewinds Concepts, and the entire staff was gathering for the weekly Monday morning staff meeting, which meant the company supplied coffee and pastries.

Joe looked at the picture and chuckled a bit himself. “I guess the girls have finally gotten their way and Connie is finally one of them.”

“Well, Toni has always been one of us, so I guess it’s just fair.” They both laughed a bit at that. “They did make him look great, though.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “You know, growing up, half the time we were together, he was explaining to one person or another that he was a guy, not a girl. This will probably make his life easier.”

Bill sent a reply to Amy. ‘Awesome! He looks beautiful.’

‘I know, right!’ Came the immediate replay.

Suddenly Joe’s phone buzzed, too. He glanced at the exact same picture that Bill had shown him as the seat next to Bill was taken by Alan Crenshaw, a former classmate of theirs who had only recently joined the company. Joe showed Bill the screen. “I guess they’re pretty proud of themselves.”

“And rightfully so,” Bill smiled. “They did a great job on him.”

“Whoa!” Alan said, looking over Bill’s shoulder at Joe’s screen. “Who is that? I’d do her in a heartbeat.”

“A friend,” Joe said, hoping to just shut Alan down.

“Wait a second,” Alan said, reaching over and grabbing Joe’s hand before he could put his phone away. “You said ‘him.’ ‘They did a good job on HIM.’” He examined the picture more closely. “I know that face! That’s that queer little freak that used to hang with you guys in high school. What’s his name?”

“Hey, Alan,” Joe said, “knock it off.”

“He had a girl’s name. Cathy, or Crystal or something like that.”

Bill pulled the phone away and pushed it back to Joe. “Alan…”

“CONNIE!” Alan said way too loudly. “His name is Connie. Oh, my God, is he still hanging around with you!?”

Before they could say anything, Alan continued. “Is he a tranny? I mean, is he a girl where it counts? You know, down below? Because if he is, then maybe I’ll give him a call. Show him what it’s like to be a woman for real!”

Bill stood. “Alan, can I speak to you in the hall for a moment?”

Alan looked at Bill and then at Joe. He scoffed. “What? Are the two of you going to gang up on me because I insulted your faggy friend?”

“No ganging up, no violence, nothing like that. I just need to speak to you in private for a moment,” Bill insisted.

Alan looked around and considered the situation. He was only three months into his tenure at this company, he didn’t really know anyone except these two jerks from high school. Getting into a fight or loud argument in front of everyone would probably not be a great idea. He shrugged, stood with his coffee and a half eaten danish and walked towards the door.

“You ok with this?” Joe asked, willing to come and support his friend.

Bill smirked and shook his head. “Be right back.”

In the hall, Alan was red faced and looked like he was expecting Bill to throw a punch, but Bill put his arm around Alan’s shoulder and led him a few feet away from the door before speaking. Both men were about the same size, and both very physically fit.

“Look, Alan… we’re not kids anymore. We’re adults and as adults we should be able to understand that people are all different, right? And that what’s right for one person isn’t necessarily right for the next. Right?”

Alan was still flushed with adrenaline. “No. That kid was a freak in high school and he’s a freak now, too. You’re trying to make me out to be the bad guy while that sissy is traipsing around in girls’ clothes doing God knows what…”

Bill’s grip on Alan’s shoulders tightened a bit. “Ok, Alan, if common decency is beyond your comprehension, let’s try this… Connie is my friend… my very good friend… for the sake of this conversation, let’s just say that Connie is my brother… and he has been since before we were in kindergarten. No one… not you, not anyone… is going to say things about him in front of me. Especially not the things you just said. Understood?”

Alan pulled free of Bill. “Or what? Or you and Joe will beat me up? Are you serious? Like you said, we’re not in high school anymore. You can’t just tell me to meet you behind the gym after math class and we’ll settle things.”

“I’m not going to beat you up, Alan, and neither is Joe, but there are things that the legal system can do if need be. Just knock it off.” He turned to walk away.

“Yeah? You think so?” Alan called after him. “Maybe you need to check the current political temperature around here, Bill, because there are more people like me than people like you, and we’re not going to put up with a world full of pansies and boys who play dress-up in their sister’s clothes. We’re making this country great again, Bucko, and you need to get with the program… and so does your prissy little girlfriend.”

Without turning, Bill called back, “It’s still Massachusetts, Alan, and people here still have rights.”
 

 
Normally, Connor would connect his Bluetooth speaker, the one that sat on his desk, to his phone and listen to his podcasts while he worked, but that was in his ‘office,’ the half bedroom, but he was working in the living room that day, so he grabbed his AirPods and turned on the podcast. The two hosts were talking to a former cast member of their television show. They were telling very funny stories and Connor smiled as he listened and worked.

He was moving in his chair a bit more than usual. The smooth material he was wearing was so seductive that he moved just to feel it rub against his skin. It was a lovely feeling.

He was imagining going out in public like this. Having people see him in his new persona and wondering if people would accept him? Reject him? Find him cute? Attractive? Pretty?

Suddenly, he felt like listening to a little music. He began with ‘Roar’ by Katy Perry. He sang along with it at a moderate volume. Then he chose ‘Bitch’ by Meredith Brooks and he was a little louder. Then came ‘Reflection’ from Mulan by Christina Aguilera and he was singing along with it at the top of his lungs, enjoying the beautiful refrain, “Who is the girls I see, starting straight, back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don’t know…?” When he realized that he needed a file that was on his other desk. He stood, turned to leave the room, then screamed, “OH MY GOD!” at the top of his lungs when he realized that he was not alone. “What are you doing here!?” His heart was beating faster and louder than he could ever remember.

“Just taking in the new you,” Heather said, sitting on the couch, wearing a dark blue pant suit and a white blouse on her body and judgmental smirk on her face.

It was at that moment that Connor remembered how he was dressed. “I… I was just…”

“Just what?”

Connor stopped. “What a minute… I don’t have to apologize to you. This is my apartment. Why are you in here?”

“The door was unlocked. I knocked a few times, but no one answered. So, I just came up.”

“You’re supposed to ring the doorbell,” Connor snapped.

“I didn’t know there was a doorbell,” Heather smirked.

That was probably true. It hadn’t been there all that long and Heather was not a frequent visitor. The door must have been left unlocked when Mary and Amy left earlier.

“Still,” Connor said, still dealing more with the surprise of his sister being there than with the fact that he’d been caught dressed as he was, “why didn’t you tap me on the shoulder of something instead of lurking and spying on me?”

“I am certainly NOT lurking OR spying, Connie. I am sitting on the couch, watching my half-brother and employee work. I was fascinated by your new look, and I was listening to your singing. I was holding on until I heard ‘Man, I Feel Like a Woman,’ but it never came. Imagine how disappointed that made me. AND if you recall, you were only seventeen when I got this place for you, so my name is on the lease, too.”

“Yeah, well…” Connor sputtered, “we need to get your name off of that. I’ve been here for years and never once missed a payment or asked you for help. So…”

“That’s actually an excellent idea,” Heather agreed, “but be that as it may…” she used her hand to indicate Connor.

“Be that as it may… what?”

“What’s this all this about?” Heather asked, not getting up or sounding upset. “How long have you been dressing like a girl?”

“Oh… that…” Connor said, unconsciously touching his clothes. “It’s not what you think.”

“Was your hair and makeup done professionally?”

“Yes.”

“Is Toni aware that you are dressed this way?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s pretty much what I think. How long have you been living as a girl?”

Even though Heather had only occasionally worked in front of a jury, Connor still felt like he was being cross-examined. He glanced at the clock on his phone. It was just about noon time. “About eighteen hours, I guess.” 

“Eighteen hours!? Are you serious!?” She was nearly yelling.

“Yes,” Connor said, confused as to why telling the truth would get that kind of reaction.

Heather looked at her phone and checked an app that kept track of when her two employees logged in to work. She stood and showed the screen to Connor. “I assume then that you signed in and then went to a beauty parlor because it’s noon on a Monday and salons aren’t open on Sundays.”

Connor grabbed his phone and opened the doorbell app, calling up the recording that had been made at 8:56am that morning. He held the screen towards his sister/employer. “Look.”

“Ahh,” Heather nodded and smiled, watching Amy and Mary leaving the house with Mary’s toolbox in tow. “The beauty brigade came to visit. I get it. You were always one of the girls in that group, weren’t you? I bet they’re thrilled you took this final step.”

“It’s not like that,” Connor said. He then went on to explain what had happened the previous day – the exploding pressure cooker, the soiled clothes, Mary’s clothes not fitting him, etcetera – and he concluded with his decision to wear women’s clothing that day to see how he felt about it.

Heather nodded and stood. “So, this isn’t a political statement or anything like that?”

“A political statement?” Connor asked, wondering what she meant.

Heather let out one of her trademark sighs. “I guess you still aren’t watching the news, huh?”

“Not really. Just the weather sometimes.”

“Well, you picked a hell of a time to start exploring your feminine side, Connie. A hell of a time. Now… tell me what your plans are.”

“My plans?”

“Connie… you are my employee, and my clientele tends to skew more towards family values, so I need to know what your plans are.”

“I’m also your brother. Isn’t supporting me more important than threatening me? Isn’t that what family values are?”

Heather stood and sighed. “Number one: You are not my brother, you are my half-brother. Number two: Blindly supporting someone whose values are not aligned with yours just because you’re related to them isn’t an example of family values, it’s an example of stupidity. Number three: I am not a stupid person.”

She handed him the file full of paperwork she wanted him to complete. “This is for you. Call Julie and let her know when you’re done. You can drop off the originals or mail them back if you’d rather.”

He took the file and Heather headed towards the door. “Thanks for the support,” he said, crestfallen.

Heather turned and sighed. “Connie… I can’t support stupidity.” She wanted to leave but sensed there was a bit more to be said before she could.
 

 
As it turned out, The Squealing Pig was open, so Toni and Don were able to have Don’s favorite smokey seafood chowder for lunch that day. Most of P-Town was shut down, but a few stores were still open to accommodate the late season tourists and year-round residents. Most of the tourism in Massachusetts in October was in the western part of the state where leaf-peepers drove through The Berkshire Mountains to see the color.

Since the mid-twentieth century, Provincetown had been a safe haven for people who not only lived alternative lifestyles, but celebrated those lifestyles freely, openly and joyously. So there were several stores in P-Town that catered to the needs and eccentricities of some of those people.

As Toni sat at The Squealing Pig, she spotted an adult store across the street and thought that perhaps this might be a good time to explore some new aspects of her new relationship with Connie.

When they’d finished their meal, Toni excused herself to run a quick errand and ran across the road to make a few purchases.

Just a few minutes later, she was back in the restaurant with the bag rolled up so the name of the shop could not be seen by Don.

“Hey,” Don smiled as she sat with him again, “you left your phone, and it buzzed a bunch of times.” He passed it across the table. “Eventually I looked at it to be sure it wasn’t an emergency – or maybe you’d lost it and you were having someone call so it’d ring for you.”

“Oh. Ok. Thanks,” Toni replied, tucking the bag discreetly onto the chair next to her. She looked at the phone where she found picture after picture after picture of Connie from that morning. Connie getting his hair done. Connie getting his nails done. Connie getting his eyes done. Connie in patties and a bra. Connie in a lace trimmed slip. Picture after picture of her fiancé – her male fiancé, and that was kind of obvious in the picture of him in panties – being pampered and prettied by his friends. And there was a message from Amy that read: ‘Thought you might like to see what’s waiting for you when you get home. Connie is never going to be a he-man, but he sure is a babe! Talk later.’

Toni smiled and tried to act nonchalant as she put her phone back into her jacket pocket, but she did blush a little bit.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping coffee until Don asked, “So… are you ok?”

The question caught Toni off guard. “Am I ok? I’m fine. Why?”

Don sighed and looked around. “Look, Toni, my sister’s husband transitioned a few years ago and it put a lot of strain on their relationship. A LOT of stress. In fact, it eventually ended their marriage. So, if your fiancé is transitioning and you need any one to talk to… I’m here for you… and if you’d rather talk to another woman, my wife or my sister are available, too… but my sister may be a little bitter, still. Anyway, I just want you to know that you’re not alone. I bet there are even support groups…”

“Ok, Don, hold up,” Toni laughed, slightly nervously. “Look, I really, really appreciate your concern and I’m really sorry that your sister had such a tough time, but this thing with me and Connie, well… it’s all very new and we have no idea where it’s headed. In fact, it kind of got started by accident and it was really my idea to have him continue. I mean, I’m pretty sure that Connie likes it, but I don’t think he’d even have considered dressing a second time if I hadn’t asked him to. So… thank you, Don. I really appreciate it, but I think we’re fine.”
 

 
“He looked really cute,” Amy said to Mary on the other end of the phone connection. “You did such a good job on him, Mare. He could easily pass for a girl now, and he hasn’t even been in ‘girl mode’ for a full day yet. I know that God doesn’t make mistakes, but I have always thought that Connie was meant to be a girl.”

“I agree,” Mary said, chomping on her salad while holding her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “Ever since we were little girls, Connie was always one of us more than one of the boys. I’ve wanted to help him find himself – or find herself – for years.”

“Do you think that’s what attracted Toni to Connie in the first place?”

“What? You mean do I think that deep down Toni is a lesbian and she was really only attracted to Connie because he has an air of femininity about him even without the clothes, hair and makeup? No, the thought never crossed my mind.” Mary giggled at her own statement.

Amy laughed at her end.

“Seriously, though,” Mary said, swallowing the last of her salad and closing the off-brand Tupperware container she’d brought it in, “I think Toni was kind of prone to swinging either way. Maybe she would have found another guy, one that was nothing like Connie, or maybe she would have found a girl… who knows, but every summer, when Toni came to visit, she always wanted to see Connie first. I think she just loves Connie. You know, kinda like a fairy tale. They were really meant for each other and somehow, they found each other.”

“Yeah, but did you see the look on Toni’s face when we brought Connie out all dolled up yesterday? She was blown away. I could see it in her face. Her cheeks got all red. She likes him that way.”

“And that’s why I never go out without makeup on,” Mary laughed. “You’re right, though. She definitely does like him to look girly.”

“Hey, let’s meet at the mall after supper. We can do a little shopping for our new little sister.”
 

 
“So,” Heather said, sounding exhausted, judgmental, superior, and irritated that Connor was wasting her time, “this all began last night, and you may OR MAY NOT be considering presenting as a woman full time?”

“Well, I mean, I AM considering it, but I think I need to do it for a few days, or maybe more than that, before I make up my mind.”

Heather nodded and considered everything. “Connie… I need to ask you a question, and it’s not to be facetious or mean, ok?”

Connor shrugged. “Sure.”

Heather folded her arms, and she considered her words before taking a deep breath. “Why?”

“What?” Connor was confused by the simplicity and broadness of the question.

“Connie… come on! This is an important decision and you’re being very glib, very laissez-faire about the whole thing. Most trans people suffer through the decision process for years before coming out to the rest of the world, but you’re telling me that you accidentally ended up in a dress yesterday and now you’re considering changing everything about your life. So… yeah… why?”

Connor thought for a moment. “Well… I guess because… I’m not really sure how to say this, but… something happened to me when I saw how I looked when I dressed like this. It was like… suddenly my life made sense in a whole new way. Then, when I saw how everyone else looked at me… how everyone else treated me… then… then I thought that, maybe this is how I’m meant to look. Maybe I was really meant to be a girl, but… not fully a girl. Just… you know… look like a girl. All this… the soft, pretty clothes, the cute shoes, the nice hair, the pierced ears… this just feels right in a way that I never felt right before. Does that make sense?”

Heather nodded. “That was… a heck of an answer, Connie. Does it make sense? I don’t know.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when Connor said, “Heather? Why don’t you ever call me your brother?”

Heather let put a nervous chuckle. “Well, Connie, at the moment, you don’t look much like my brother.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Connor persisted. His fingers brushed the soft, rose covered material of his skirt, but this was a question about which he’d wondered for years. “Heather… you’re my sister and that is how I always refer to you. I’m your brother, but you always say ‘half-broher’ when you talk about me. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me – helping me get this apartment when mom passed away and giving me this job when cooking full time didn’t pan out for me, but… why can’t I just be your brother?”

Unfazed by his question, Heather replied in an even tone, “Because you ARE my half-brother, Connie.” She sighed, yet again, and it became obvious to Connor that this expression of frustration was directed at his thick headedness, not at the fact that he had just told her that her language was hurtful to him. “When mom married your father, I was pretty much exiled from the house, Connie. I don’t feel closely connected to you in the way that people are connected to their siblings. Now, I really do have feelings for you, but not like a brother. Like a nephew, or a stepbrother? Sure… I suppose. Do you understand what I mean?”

Connor nodded, sadly. It occurred to him to point out to his sister that perhaps, just perhaps, her inability to allow herself to love him as a brother may be connected to her horrendous track record as a spouse. He knew plenty of people in their late thirties who’d been married and divorced, and even a couple who’d married a second spouse, but three marriages and three divorces before officially entering middle age was a record held by Heather alone among his acquaintances. He wasn’t judging her, but he did wonder why she seemed to have never taken an introspective look at the reasons that she’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few years. So, instead of attacking, or saying anything that may hurt his sister, Conner nodded and said, “I understand,” because he did.
 

 
“What smells so good?” Toni shouted from the front door of the apartment. She’d gotten home about forty-five minutes ahead of schedule, but as usual, everything was ready for her to sit down to dinner. 

“Salmon in garlic butter with pilaf and squash,” Connor called back.

Toni entered the small kitchen to find Connor dressed in the skirt and blouse that Amy and Mary had provided, as well as one of Connor’s usual cooking aprons. Nothing overly feminine about the apron, just a black kitchen apron that went over his head to rest on his neck and then tied around his waist. Generic. But when combined with the gold blouse and rose printed skirt, it was very feminine and very cute.

She strode up behind him and put her arms around him, giving him a hug and kissing his neck.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “you smell better than the salmon, if that’s possible.” She gave him a squeeze, then ran her hands over his hips and buttocks as she released him. The soft material was exciting and the way the skirt flowed over the silky slip… even more so. “You look beautiful, babe. Thanks for getting all dressed up for me.”

Connor turned her way and smiled. “Thanks for saying so. It’s not like I had a real choice about it, though. I was just getting into the shower when I was accosted by Mary and her portable salon. Then Amy showed up with clothes and stuff and… well… this is the result.”

Toni smiled and chuckled. “I’ll go wash up and get ready for dinner.”

They ate the delicious salmon and chatted about the day. Connor mentioned that Heather had come by, but he didn’t go into detail about their conversation.

“What did she say about you looking the way you do?” Toni asked.

“Not much.”

That seemed odd to Toni, but she chose not to pursue any more inquiries. If Heather had said anything, Connor obviously didn’t want to share that. In fact, it seemed as if just mentioning his sister had brought a bit of a cloud over Connor.

“This is delicious,” Toni said, trying to lighten things up.

He smiled, glad that his work was being appreciated. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

Then Toni had a thought. “Hey, Connie… after dinner, how about we take a ride over to the mall and get you some essentials. You know, some underwear of your own, or maybe some skirts or makeup, or whatever. You know, stuff that girls need. That might be fun, huh?”

Connor thought for a moment. “What if we run into someone we know?”

“Who cares?”

“Who cares? Toni, I’m wearing a dress and makeup…”

“And you look amazing. If we should run into someone we know, I’m sure they’ll be just as impressed as I am.”

Connor smiled at the compliment. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Ok. I guess I can’t keep relying on Mary and Amy for clothes, so… let’s go shopping.”
 

 
“Hey, Bill,” one of the department’s office assistants said as Bill was hanging up his office phone after talking to a client, “we just got a call from Jean Crowley in HR. She’d like to see you before the end of the day.”

“Ok, thanks,” Bill said.

“What do you suppose that’s all about?” Joe asked.

“I guess I’ll find out in a few minutes,” Bill said, standing. “I might as well go see her now. It’s nearly quitting time.” He grabbed his jacket and briefcase. “The girls say they’re going shopping tonight. Want to grab supper at The Skipper?”

A burger and a beer at their favorite local pub sounded good to Joe. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“It’s almost quitting time now, so why don’t you head over there and get us a table. I’ll be there asap.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Bill headed down the hall to the company’s HR office and knocked on the door of the HR Manager, Jean Crowley. When a voice invited him in, he entered and saw the very attractive, forty-something woman at her desk. “Hi, Jean,” Bill smiled. “You wanted to see me?”

She smiled and asked him to sit.

“Bill,” she started, looking a bit uncomfortable, “we received a rather disturbing report today from another employee stating that you… well… that you threatened him with physical harm.”

Bill sighed. “It was Crenshaw, wasn’t it?”

Jean nodded.

“Look, Jean, I didn’t threaten him. Before this morning’s meeting, Alan saw a picture of a friend of mine that my wife had sent to me, and… well… Alan said some pretty awful things about my friend. I asked to speak to him in the hallway, and I asked him to please knock it off.”

Jean nodded. “He mentioned a picture, too, but he said it was disgusting and…”

“Disgusting?” Bill laughed. “Jean, it was just a picture of my friend in a new outfit and with his hair and makeup done. Here, I’ll show you.” He continued speaking as he pulled out his phone and called up his wife’s text message. “If anything disgusting occurred this morning, it was what Alan said about Connie. Here it is.” He held up the phone with Connor’s picture on display. “See? It’s just Connie all dressed up with his hair and makeup done right for the first time.”

“Connie?” Jean asked, taking notes. “And that’s a picture of a male?”

“Well, yeah,” Bill said with a shrug. “Connie’s always been kind of… well… kind of a girl, I guess, and yesterday there was an accident and Connie ended up in a dress, and… well… we all kind of were surprised how good he looked and how natural he acted. I don’t know exactly what happened this morning, but my wife and Joe’s wife went over to his place and got him all done up correctly, and Joe and I got texts at the same time, and…”

“‘Done up correctly?’” Jean asked. “What do you mean by ‘correctly.’”

“You know…” Bill stuttered a bit. “Like a woman usually dresses. Or, at least like my wife, Amy, and Joe’s wife, Mary, always dress. It’s normal… or correct… for them.”

“And you support your friend’s decision to dress like a woman?”

 Bill felt that things were turning against him. “Umm… well… yeah. I mean… who am I to judge, right?” That felt wishy-washy, and that’s not how he wanted to sound. “No… I don’t mean that… I mean… Connie is my friend, and I have known him almost all my life, and if Connie chooses to present this way, then, yeah, I am going to support him one-hundred-percent. End of story.”

“So… are you saying that you did threaten Alan Crenshaw, but did it in defense of your transgender friend?”

“I didn’t say Connie was trans,” Bill said. “I don’t know if he… they… have made a decision about that or not. I said Connie is my friend, Alan said gross, horrible things about him and what he’d like to do to him, and I asked him to stop. No violence. No threats. Just asked him to not say those things about Connie. If you’d heard him, you’d have done the same.”

“So does this ‘Connie’ person go by ‘him’ or ‘they?’”

“What?”

“Well, you referred to this person as ‘they’ and then switched back to ‘him.’ Which is it?”

“I don’t know,” Bill said, confused and frustrated. “I never discussed pronouns with… Connie. What difference does it make? Alan made rude remarks, I asked him to stop. No threats. No physical interactions. Just a request, from one adult to another, asking for decent behavior. End of story.”

Jean nodded. “I understand. I just felt the need to play devil’s advocate to see if you’d stick to your story. Thank you, Bill.” She checked her watch. “I think we’re done for the day. Have a good evening.”

Bill stood. “So… are you on my side or Alan’s?”

“I’m on the company’s side, Bill, but I don’t think anything else will come of this. In the morning, I’ll tell Alan I spoke to you and ask him to not participate in that kind of behavior again. Ok?”

“Ok.” Bill was still uncertain about how things had actually gone in this meeting, but he was definitely ready to leave and go have a beer with Joe.
 

 
“I have no idea,” Connor replied to Toni’s question about size. They stood in front of a display of white cotton panties in the Kohl’s Department Store Women’s department surveying the choices. “I guess I wear the same size as Mary because that’s what I have on. Maybe we should call her.

Toni nodded and pushed Mary’s number in her Contacts list and was shocked to hear Mary’s phone ringing a few aisles away. She knew it was her cousin’s phone because Mary assigned different ringtones to different people and Mary’s choice of ringtone for Toni was the angular, choppy introduction to Lady GaGa’s ‘You and I.’ That was what caught her attention.

“Hi,” Mary answered cheerily.

“Are you at Kohl’s?” Toni asked without any ‘hello.’

“Yeah. I’m looking for a jacket for that pretty boyfriend of yours. Why? Where are you?”

“A couple of aisles away. Looking at panties for Connie.”

“Panties!? Here!?” Mary sounded panicked. “Stay where you are. We’re on the way.” Immediately she rounded a conner into the main aisle, just a couple of dozen feet away from Toni and Connor. “You don’t buy panties here!” She said way too loudly. “You buy jackets and slacks, or a dress for a funeral here! Not panties!” They arrived at the underwear display and looked a bit upset with Toni.

“Why not?” Toni asked. “I buy mine here.”

“Oh, my God!” Mary said, horrified. “Why would you do that? I only use panties like this if I’m on my period of recovering from surgery!”

Toni snickered at the melodramatic performance of her cousin. Hair, clothes and makeup have always been a big deal to Mary. “I apologize for my foolishness,” Toni said, teasing.

“Well, I should think so!” Mary said, taking Connor’s hand in hers. “Don’t ever take fashion advice from Toni, Connie. You have Amy and me for that.”

Even Amy was giggling at that. She was holding a puffy, winter jacket that was a soft lilac color. “Here,” she said, handing the jacket to Connor. “See if this fits.”

As he slipped his arms in, Toni asked, “So where do we get him underwear?”

“Lingerie, you mean?” Mary asked, shocked by Toni’s faux pas. “At Victoria’s Secret, of course,” she said with a tinge of both sadness and disgust in her voice. “I always thought that Victoria’s Secret was just a clever name. I never realized it was actually a secret that we were all keeping from you.”

It was just a joke and even Toni laughed at it.

“The jacket fits perfectly,” Amy said.

“It’s kind of heavy for October,” Connor said, taking it off.

“Yes, but they won’t have any in the store in a few weeks when you need it,” Amy pointed out.

“I don’t know if I’ll be wearing these kinds of clothes in a few weeks,” Connor said, feeling as if he should at least put up some sort of resistance, even if he didn’t really want to.

“Oh, don’t be silly, of course you will be,” Mary said dismissively. “You’re a hundred times cuter in dresses than all those ugly boys’ clothes you always wore before. Come on, let’s find you a nice polar fleece or something like that to wear outside now. Then we’ll head over to Victoria’s Secret and Forever 21 and get you some nice dresses, blouses and skirts. This store sells good quality clothes, but aside from a few things, it’s all stuffy and frumpy.”

Connor nodded, not knowing what else to do. It seemed as if Mary had all of this planned out, and that was ok with him.

“Should I help or just go sit in the car?” Toni asked.

“Why don’t you go hang out with Bill and Joe at The Skipper. Monday is free wings night there and there’s some kind of a game on the TV. We’ll meet you there when we’re done.”

“Sounds good,” Toni smiled, relieved to not have to go into someplace as overtly feminine as Victoria’s Secret. She was perfectly happy being a female, but she had never been into the whole silk and lace thing that Amy and Mary seemed to enjoy so much. Cotton briefs, a reducing bra, a cotton tee shirt and loose-fitting jeans were her everyday dress code and if she needed to dress up at all, a nice pair of slacks and a loose oxford shirt would do nicely.

She bent and kissed Connor’s soft, hairless check. “See you in a bit.”
 

 
“No, I don’t think you know him,” Bill explained to Toni after having told her how his work day had begun and ended. “We knew him from school, but we didn’t hang around with him or anything like that.”

“Well, what business is it of his how Connie wants to dress?” Toni asked, sipping on her bottle of Sam Adams.

“That’s the point Bill was making,” Joe said. “The problem is, this kind of demand for conformity is now the chant of the people currently in control of the country, and enforcing their views on others is the norm. I bet that Alan could find plenty of people in our company to support his rude behavior. It’s how the world is right now.”

“Well, that’s pretty sucky,” Toni said, taking another small swig. “I mean, look at me. I dress like this all the time and no one has a problem with it.”

“Oh, I bet plenty of people have a problem with it,” Bill laughed. “Its just more common for women to ditch their dainty clothes than for men to put them on.”

“Sure,” Joe agreed. “My cousin is involved with this super-church out in Kansas and their membership has a really strict dress code. Men wear long sleeved dress shirts and slacks in muted colors and women wear dresses and skirts only. It’s really strict, too. They live in a house that they rent from the church, on church property, and if they violate the church’s code of ethics, which includes the dress code, out they go. Mom, dad, kids… tow the line or you’re homeless.”

“That’s nuts!” Toni said.

Bill held up his bottle of beer in a toast gesture. “Welcome to the new USA,” he said. No one clinked his bottle with theirs.
 

 
“Oh, that’s sooo cute on you!” Amy said when Connor stepped out of a dressing room wearing a dusty mauve, loose short sleeved, knee length dress with a wide, high elastic waist and a wide fringe around the hem. It had a kind of western feel to it, but not so much that it required cowgirl boots with it.

“It really is adorable,” Mary agreed. “A nice gold chain or some bright beads and maybe some fun bangles and you could wear that anywhere.”

Because he had gone shopping with these two women many, many, many times, Connor understood that words like ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ were compliments and not demeaning terms. They meant that the girls really liked how they looked.

“I think I’ll take it,” Connor said, “but I think we need to call it quits for tonight. Between the four stores we’ve visited, I will have spent over three hundred dollars, and I didn’t budget for this kind of spending.”

“Uh, you’re no fun,” Mary said dramatically. “Connie, you’ve gone shopping with us hundreds of times, but this is the first time that we’ve ever been able to pick out clothes for you! We’ve always wanted to do this!”

“I understand,” Connor laughed, “but I’VE always wanted to be financially solvent, so I need to stop now and let my Visa card cool off for a while.”

“Ok,” Amy said, a more reasonable voice than Mary. “I’ll pay for these things,” she pointed at a pile of four dresses, “and you can take care of these. Ok?”

Connor smiled. “That’s very generous of you, but…”

“My treat!” Amy insisted.

“And I’ll pay for these,” Mary insisted, pointing at some other items. “Go get changed and we can go meet the boys.”
 

 
“Oh, geez,” Bill said, sounding frustrated, “look who is here.” He bobbed his head towards the other side of the pub where Alan Crenshaw was entering with a friend.

“Just ignore him,” Joe suggested.

“That’s him?” Toni asked. “The prick that said those things about Connie?”

“Yeah,” Bill nodded. “Maybe we should leave.”

“Don’t be crazy,” Joe scoffed. “We can all be adults here. Just ignore him. I’m sure he’ll ignore us. And besides, the girls just called to say they’re on the way. I’m going to order some more wings for them.”

He waved for the waitress to come back to the table, ordered the wings, two beers, one each for Amy and Mary, and a seltzer with lime for Connor, who never enjoyed alcoholic beverages.

As the waitress left the table, he saw the ‘girls’ entering the pub. He waived for them and they crossed to join the ‘boys’ at the table.

“Hey, girls,” Bill said, which was the customary welcome when those three arrived together. “I don’t see any bags… no luck?”

“Oh, we did very well,” Amy laughed, kissing his cheek. “We put everything into Toni’s truck on the way over here.”

“Hey,” Toni said, sounding surprised as she looked at her boyfriend, “did you get your ears pierced?” She moved the hair on the right side of Connor’s flowing hair and smiled. “Diamond studs. They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Mary did them this morning.”

‘Oops. Sorry I didn’t notice before,” Toni apologized.

“Typical guy,” Amy teased.

“They are pretty,” Mary smiled, “but they’re just faux diamonds. Just keep them in her ears for the next two weeks, cleaning her lobes with alcohol at least once a day. After the wounds have healed, she can wear grown up earrings. Pearls, diamonds, studs, chandeliers… whatever makes her feel prettiest.”

Connor had been ‘one of the girls’ his whole life, but hearing his friend refer to him as ‘her’ and ‘she’ was odd and kind of exciting. He had to admit he liked it. He was fitting in in a whole new way.

They sat and ate their wings and drank their drinks and talked to ‘the boys.’

After an hour or so, Amy announced, “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

She stood, and Mary automatically stood as well. Nothing unusual there, but then Mary grabbed Connor’s hand and pulled him up. “Come on, Connie. We need to go to the ladies’ room.”

“What?” Connor said, surprised. “I don’t need to…”

“Of course you do,” Mary said, rolling her eyes. “Connie, when a girl goes to the ladies’ room, her friends go with her. Why?” She asked, anticipating his question, “Because there’s safety in numbers and because we always take every opportunity to fix our faces after a meal. So, come on.”

“But I’m not…”

“Are you saying you’d rather use the men’s room? Because I think that might be more conspicuous than using the ladies’ but if that’s what you want…”

“Ok, ok,” Connor said, resigned.

They walked to the end of a hallway in the back of the pub where Connor was relieved to see that there was a men’s room, a ladies’ room and a ‘family’ restroom. They peaked in there and found a room approximately ten feet by eight feet where an adult could deal with a child, or a differently-abled person.

“Perfect,” Amy announced. “Mare, why don’t you do Connie’s makeup first, then we can each use the commode.”

So, that’s what happened. “First Mary touched up Connor’s makeup, then they exited the room while Amy used it. Then Mary. Then Connor entered the family restroom.

Then, something unexpected happened.

Two police officers, one a very fit man, the other a very fit woman, hustled down the hallway towards them. They didn’t engage either woman, though. Instead, the male officer banged on the door to the ladies’ room. “Alright,” he called in, “come on out. You know you’re not supposed to be there. Let’s go!”

The door opened and an older, but very attractive woman in her sixties opened the door and looked at the officer indignantly. “What is the meaning of this?” She demanded.

The police officer glanced at her, then looked past into the lavatory. “Is anyone else in there?”

“Yes,” the woman said, angry. “There’s another woman in the third stall. Why?’

The male officer looked at his partner and bobbed his head in the direction of the room. The female officer nodded and went into the ladies’ room.

At that moment, Connor exited the family restroom and looked at the small crowd that was gathering in the hallway. “What’s going on?” He whispered to Mary.

“No idea,” she said.

The female officer reemerged from the ladies’ room and shook her head. “Nope. It’s a woman.”

The male policeman shook his head, then pressed the button on the microphone attached to the left side of his chest. “This is 1152. Do you have a phone number on that call about a man in the ladies’ room at The Skipper Pub?”

The person on the other end of the conversation took a moment, then read him ten numbers, which he punched into his cell phone. Then he walked out of the hallway, back into the pub’s barroom and pressed the ‘call’ button. A few tables away, a phone rang and Alan Crenshaw picked up his phone and answered the call.

“Hello?”

The police officers headed towards his table.

“Hello?” Alan asked again.

Suddenly a police officer was standing right in front of him. “Did you call in a prank call to the 911 emergency line, sir?”

“Prank?” Alan asked, confused. “No. I called because a guy was in the ladies’ room.”

“Uh oh,” Joe said, looking over Bill’s shoulder at the commotion.

“What?” Bill replied looking in the direction of the commotion Joe was witnessing.

“The police are talking to Crenshaw. This can’t be good.”

“Sir,” the male officer said to Alan, “we responded within three minutes of your call and there were no men in the ladies’s room.”

“I inspected the room myself,” the female office contributed.

“Yeah, well I guess you two don’t know how to do your job very well, because…”

“Enough,” the male officer stopped him.

At that moment, Bill reached his wife and whispered, “Get Connie out of here. This could get ugly.”

‘What?” Amy asked, thoroughly confused.

“Just go. Take her to our house and I’ll meet you at there.”

“But…”

“Just go. I’ll explain later.”

Amy grabbed Connor’s hand and led him towards the door. Mary followed.

“Calling in a false 911 call is a serious offense, sir,” the officer continued. “Now, I’m inclined to just give you a warning right now, but if you’re going to persist, I will make sure you’re standing in front of a judge at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Am I making myself clear?”

“But you’re not listening…”

“No, sir, you’re not listening. If you say another word, I will take you in right now and you can tell the judge whatever you’d like to tell him tomorrow morning. Are we on the same page, sir?”

Alan nodded, frightened.

The police officer nodded as well, staring Alan down a few moments longer. Then he departed, followed by his partner.

Alan watched them leave, then looked around the room where he spotted Joe and Bill and a tall, mannish looking woman looking at him, shaking their heads from side to side. They turned and left as well.

At that point, Alan decided that someday soon he was going to wipe those smug expressions off their faces.
 
 
To Be Continued...