Becoming Robin Book Two - Chapter 10

~* The Other Mrs. Smith *~ “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just cannot wrap my mind around this. Linda’s little boy… is a girl now? That makes no sense.” “It makes perfect sense, mother. You’d realize that if you had been listening. I’m not asking you to love her. I’m not even asking that you treat her like my sister. I’m just asking that you don’t hurt her feelings. She’s been through so much with Linda’s illness and her transitioning.” “But how can a boy in a dress even be accepted at school?” I felt my knees wobble, and sank to the stairs, sitting as I listened to their conversation. So many terrible memories came flooding back at those words. Memories of fears I had until now forgotten.

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“Robin, get your head in the game!” Coach Wilson shouted, catching my attention. I smiled wryly, taking the pass from Chelsea and dribbling the basketball down the court. I narrowly avoided slamming into Brittany as I went up for a three-pointer. She scowled, shouting.

“Foul!”

I stopped abruptly and gave her a puzzled stare. “Um… Wait, what?”

She rolled her eyes, patting the top of my head patronizingly. Coach Wilson, to her credit, tried so hard not to giggle. “She’s right. I know you didn’t actually touch her, but some refs like to err on the side of caution. You’ve got to really watch what you’re doing out there against the other team.” She nodded toward my former nemesis with a smile. “Good call, Brit.”

Brittany smiled smugly at me, passing the ball to Chelsea, and Maria, Brittany’s opposite for our practice two-on-two game, immediately moved to try and block her. This time around Chelsea faked a pass. Maria hadn’t seen me moving around to the other side, so I only had to worry about getting past Brittany this time. I grabbed the ball and spun around with my back to her. As soon as I saw my shot, I took it, this time managing to avoid nearly knocking Brittany on her backside.

“Nice work, Robin!” Coach cheered as she approached us. “That’s what I like to see. Great hustle. Alright, that concludes the tryouts. Maria, Robin, hit the showers. I want to have a word with Brit and Chels a moment.”

Maria and I nodded in unison and turned to jog off the court. Practice had gone exceedingly well both in our two on two, three on three, and full team on team sets, and we had enough girls interested ultimately to fill out a full team plus substitutes in case of injury. As we neared the girls’ locker hall, Maria glanced back over her shoulder.

“What do you suppose that was about?”

“Dunno. If it was just Chelsea I’d say something about picking the team captain, but Coach has been riding Brittany’s butt pretty hard ever since word got out that it was her boyfriend stalking me.” I breathed a slow sigh. “I feel kind of bad for her.”

“Well, it was her big mouth that got her into this, but yeah, I think she’s been kinda hard on her too. Anyway, see you after? Oh hey, before I forget again, rumor around school is you guys are planning a big party. Can I come?”

“Well, actually we’re planning three. Which one did you hear about?”

“THREE?! Sweet Santa Maria, and I thought Gabriella liked to party!” She shook her head slowly. “But the one I heard about was someone’s sweet sixteen.”

“Oh, yes! Nikki’s birthday. It’s going to be huge! Can you keep a secret?”

“Absolutely! I mean, obviously someone’s been keeping secrets, as all anybody knows is you guys are up to something.” She grinned that adorable grin of hers. Someday soon, some poor boy’s heart would be putty in her hands.

“Well, there’s this really hot Euro goth band called Heedless Despair-” was as far as I could get before she practically squealed.

“OHMYGOD! You got-”

“Shh!”

“Right, sorry! But… You’re serious?! That is amazing! When?”

“A week from this Tuesday. We’re renting out the conference room at the local hotel, but the band’s going to stay at a different hotel to throw off nosey reporters. The other two parties are for our Girl Scout troop, and Nikki’s Halloween party, both on Halloween, but you’re welcome to come to those too. We’re actually going to work on invitations this weekend because I’ll be distracted with Homecoming next week, and probably be too exhausted next weekend to really think straight.”

“Yeah, no kidding; you were already pretty distracted out there on the court today. But don’t worry, I don’t think it affected Coach Wilson’s evaluation.”

“Shouldn’t you two have hit the showers by now?” Chelsea interrupted us as she approached. I turned to offer her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, I’m just on my way now. I was just telling Maria about our big Halloween plans. Expect an invite next week — all three of you.” I made sure to include Brittany. She had by now managed to return to icy indifference toward me after our little fiasco with her boyfriend earlier this week, but it honestly felt forced at this point, like she only acted that way because she felt everyone expected it from her.

I spent a good fifteen minutes in the coaches’ private shower, remembering this time to bring my gym bag with me so I could change afterwards. I had so much on my mind though, that I found it so easy to let myself go in the steamy mist. As I left the bathroom behind though, my cell phone rang.

“Are you going to answer that?” Coach Wilson shot me an annoyed glance. I had been staring at the caller ID for several seconds now, trying to figure out the weird number being displayed. After it stopped ringing, I turned to hand the phone off to her.

“I’ve never seen any number being displayed like that before.”

She looked at the phone for only a moment before handing it back to me with a smile. “International caller. I don’t know the codes, but it looks like someone out of country tried to call you.”

“Out of country? … Who on earth would want to call m-” and as if on cue it started ringing again.

“Hello?”

A sweet, melodious female voice answered. I got the distinct impression she was trying to annunciate her words, but her brogue came through all the same. I couldn’t quite decide whether it sounded more Scottish or Irish, though truth be told my exposure to either had been so limited before now that I wouldn’t have known anyway.

“Ah, hello there, is this Roben Smeth?”

“Err… Yes, this is Robin. Who’s this?”

“I was hoping to talk to you about yer friend’s birthday party. Well, more about yer friend herself, actually, if ya have a minute?”

“Wait, I thought Allison said HD’s agent was a guy?”

She chuckled. “Yes, he is. And a fine one at that.”

“Wait, so you’re… Oh wow.”

“Yes, I am, but for the sake of keeping up appearances let’s just avoid names. Now, yer friend?”

“Right, sorry. Um Nikki… Well, what do you want to know?” I shifted my weight nervously. I had a member of Heedless freaking Despair on MY cell phone! Allison must have given them my contact information with hers or something. I moved to sit on the sofa as the nameless voice continued.

“Well, for starters our bassist wants to know what kind of girl she is?”

“I could talk all day about her, but first I have to ask why you want to know all this?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Roben. We don’t normally do private parties anymore, but when yer friend Alleson mentioned this Nikki girl is our Bassist’s biggest fan, it caught her attention.” She paused, sounding as though stifling a quiet laugh. “And since we’d already be touring the Northeastern States anyway, we figured… why not? But we’re all sorts of curious why you girls are going to all this trouble for someone’s sweet sixteen party.”

“Ohh, well that makes sense. Um… Well, I know this is going to sound weird, but can I ask your confidentiality with this? I mean you can tell your bass player and the rest of the band, but please no one else. It’s really, really important.”

Her serious tone, perhaps as much as her response, assured me her trust. “Yes, of course.”

“The thing is, when Nikki was young, her real father brutally abused her. It wasn’t until she was ten that it all came out and her father was sent to prison. Her mother tried to start some trouble with her foster parents later too, making up lies about them being unfit. Basically, she’s had a very, very hard life, and Ally wanted to try and make up for it. Honestly, I do too. She’s my best friend, but she’s more than that. She’s… Er, well, special to me. Ally told me she didn’t actually expect a response from you guys, but we’re both like, really excited that you did respond.”

“I see…” she replied. She didn’t say anything more, so I just kept going.

“Oh, as far as that whole… Idolize your bassist thing, she actually plays bass herself. I first met her the day before she was supposed to go to this music camp…” I proceeded to explain to this total stranger how Nikki and I met, unwittingly admitting that I fell head-over-heels for her that day, which did at least elicit a laugh from my foreign caller.

“That gives me an idea though. You want to make her birthday extra special. I’ll talk to the girls and see what we can come up with. Would you be willing to participate in our show?”

“W-what?” I stuttered. Coach Wilson looked up from the clipboard she had been busily writing away on, eyeing me.

“Would you like to participate in our show? Here’s what I’m thinking; if you can come up with two or three more friends, then the four of you could…” She proceeded to explain her off-the-top-of-her-head plan, and the more I heard, the more I loved it. Nicole would love it too. When I finally turned off my phone, Coach Wilson set her clipboard down and watched me stand. I couldn’t help giggling.

“Um… That was one of the members of the band we asked to play at Nikki’s Sweet Sixteen in a couple of weeks. They want me and a few friends to be part of the show to set Nikki up for a HUGE birthday surprise on-stage.” I giggled, long and with reckless abandon.

Coach Wilson shook her head and laughed, apparently at my enthusiasm. “You girls… I swear. Listen, if you run into Chelsea or Brittany tell them to stop by my office. I’ve made a decision on who our captains will be.”

“Captains, plural?”

She nodded. “I’ve been riding Brittany hard this week. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t buckle under pressure like she did with you. She probably thinks I hate her, but I’ve actually been testing her to see if she can handle it, so she and Chels will be our two co-captains this year. I was ready to throw her off the team before she even tried out, but Matt told me how you stood up for her, so I hope you’re right.”

“Awesome! Uhm, I’ll try not to spoil the surprise until you’ve told them.” I added, grabbing my purple gym bag on the way out. Allison stood waiting just outside, arms folded.

“It’s about time! I thought you got lost in there or something.”

I started giggling again. “Ally, you’ll never believe who just called me…”

The rest of our weekend practically flew by. Mom and Sensei Rogers made dinner reservations Saturday night, as did Nicole and I, mercifully at different restaurants. Nicole had by now begun to get suspicious that we were up to something; as we sat at our now familiar table at Chez Marceau, dressed to kill just like our first date, I contemplatively chewed a bite of Chef Marceau’s incredibly juicy chicken platter, the name of which I still couldn’t hope to pronounce.

“What?” she asked thoughtfully, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand in hers. I shook my head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you anymore Nikki. We are up to something. We’re planning you a surprise party. Promise you’ll still act surprised?” I hated lying to her. Well, half-lying. I knew very well she wouldn’t have to act the moment she saw what we had done.

She smiled softly, “Oh Robin, of course I’ll act surprised! It’s so sweet that you guys are going to all this trouble. It really means a lot to me. Even more knowing you felt guilty about keeping something like this from me.” Oh, she had no idea.

“So are you psyched about next week?” she mercifully changed the subject, pausing after to take a sip of non-alcoholic cider from her wine glass.

I nodded. “Really nervous though. I never dressed up for spirit week at my old school, but Kelly and Margie were a big help helping me pick out what I’m going to wear each day.”

“I’ve got a pair of stiletto combat boots you can borrow for Camouflage Day if you want.”

I had to giggle at that mental image. “I’d probably break my neck, but thanks. You can wear ‘em.”

“Oh, fine, I suppose I can suffer through wearing my favorite pair of boots that day.” She tried to force a pout, but it just wasn’t working for her, both of us cracking into quiet giggles a moment later.

Sunday evening, I had managed to get my hands on the latest copy of Aria Blade. Apparently the artist had really stepped up her work, trying to finish two issues a month while publishing one to keep up demand. That’s what popular internet rumor had been, when I checked at the school library’s computer anyway.

I had been so engrossed in reading that I didn’t even hear the door open downstairs, or the ruckus of my sister greeting someone in a surprised tone. I turned excitedly to the next panel, where Aria Blade had just been thrown off the case. She sulked as she left the office building that served as a front for her former taskforce behind.

“Oh no…” I gasped as she entered a city park where none other than Raven Wing sat, dressed in civilian attire herself. That trench coat looked simply darling on her though. The two exchanged dialog briefly, and Aria dimwittedly asked if the girl needed an ambulance.

“It’s Raven, you goof! You just beat the crap out of her like, an hour ago…” I muttered, reading ahead. I had to shut my eyes for just a moment, as corny as that sounds, as I turned the last page. I slooowly slid one eye open, and managed, only barely, to suppress the squeal as I saw that terrible shadow creature batting away one of Aria’s former teammates’ psychic blasts like they were nothing.

As Raven Wing knocked Aria across the back of the head and caught her in mid-fall, swooping off into the distance with only their silhouettes in the final panel, I stood and stepped into the hall. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so I decided to finally head down to the kitchen and find something.

I stopped on the stairs though, as I heard Margie and another, unfamiliar female voice talking.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just cannot wrap my mind around this. Linda’s little boy… is a girl now? That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, mother. You’d realize that if you had been listening. I’m not asking you to love her. I’m not even asking that you treat her like my sister. I’m just asking that you don’t hurt her feelings. She’s been through so much with Linda’s illness and her transitioning.”

“But how can a boy in a dress even be accepted at school?”

I felt my knees wobble, and sank to the stairs, sitting as I listened to their conversation. So many terrible memories came flooding back at those words. Memories of fears I had until now forgotten.

“Mother, please! For your information, my baby sister is the Sophomore Homecoming maid. She’s poised, beautiful, and smart. If you won’t at least talk to her before you judge her, then please leave.”

I slowly stood, walking down the stairs. I leaned in the doorway to the living room. Margie’s face fell as she saw me. The woman she identified as her mother looked like some sort of professional business-woman. She stood dressed in a pretty cream-colored silk blouse and black slacks, with her thick, graying brown hair up in a bun. When she saw me, she smiled.

“Oh, hello dear. Don’t mind us. We were just discussing Margie’s little half br–I mean sister.”

I blinked a couple of times. “Um… I’m… Margie’s sister.” I answered softly.

She stared at me intently and silently for several long seconds then slowly approached, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Oh… Dear, I am so, so sorry.”

I wanted to hate her for what she had just said a few minutes before. I wanted nothing to do with her, but she was Margie’s real mom, so I resolved to be civil. I rolled my shoulders to get her hands off me, and pushed past her into the kitchen. For me, for how I felt, this was being civil.

“Now see what you’ve done?” Margie snapped angrily, turning to follow me. I had by now already opened the fridge, retrieving the package of hamburger meat I moved from the freezer to thaw. Margie approached me, but I just shook my head.

“It’s okay. I know she’s your mother and I’m not going to say anything to her. Just don’t ask me to like her.”

“Sweetheart… Robin, no, she’s wrong. You and I both know she’s wrong, and I don’t care if she’s the Pope, I will not have someone talking down about you in this house, least of all before they’ve even met you.”

The woman stepped into the kitchen, leaning in the door frame. A moist trail down her cheek where a tear had already fallen glistened in the overhead light. “It’s a sad day when a mother has to be chastised by her daughter for being judgmental. Robin, I… I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”

She turned to leave, and I breathed a slow sigh, setting my hamburger meat aside. I wouldn’t be getting dinner anytime soon. I practically ran to catch her, gently taking her by the arm. “Wait…” She turned back to me, confused. “Please stay. You’re family. In a way you’re kind of my step-mom as much as my real Mom is to Margie. Let me make some tea, and… maybe you can explain why you felt the way you did?”

She finally, slowly nodded, following me back into the kitchen. While I worked on dinner, the three of us talked. Jane, as Margie finally formally introduced her, explained how she had been living and working in London for a long time now.

She had a ‘flatmate’, which I can only guess was like a roommate, who bitterly hated anyone in the LGBT community. Apparently some of that bile just wore off on her over time as she grew to accept and tolerate it.

“I feel so awful. She was such a dear friend that I couldn’t throw her out just because of her political views. I hadn’t realized how deeply she had affected me until I saw how much I’d hurt the feelings of an innocent girl. Robin, can you ever forgive me?”

As I placed her and Margie’s burgers in front of them at the kitchen table, I slowly nodded. “Let’s just start fresh. Yes, what you said hurt pretty deeply, but mostly because it brought back some bad memories for me. I used to be terrified people would think I was just a ‘boy in a dress’, but my friends and my family have helped me to realize that’s not who I am. I walk, talk, think, behave, and act like a girl, even when I was trying to act like a boy.”

As we sat and ate, we talked much more about my life, before and after I stopped pretending to be Robert. Eventually the conversation drifted to what I wanted to do with my life after high school. I shrugged my shoulders, answering honestly.

“I’m not really sure yet. Part of me kind of wants to get into writing or something creative like that, but I’m not sure. If it’s not too personal to ask, why haven’t we ever met before now?”

She chuckled at that, and smiled. “That’s a fair question. To be honest, my work kept me busy for such a long time. I design wedding dresses for upscale clients. Ordinarily my ‘vacations’ typically involve traveling abroad to meet face to face with clients. I’ve tried to stay in touch with Margie, but time got away from us.”

“And I tried to tell her several times about you, and about what an amazing girl you are, but I could just never find the words… Part of this is my fault. I’m sorry Robin.”

Jane immediately shook her head. “No, I won’t allow you to take any of the blame for my foolishness. And I intend to make it up to both of you, if you’ll let me. Do you have any plans next weekend?”

“Next weekend I’ll probably be too exhausted to do anything,” I admitted with a wry smile. “Next week’s spirit week, and Homecoming that Friday.”

She laughed. “Oh, come now, surely you won’t be too exhausted for a shopping trip in New Haven? I’d take you back to London with me, but with this school social going on I don’t dare interrupt your schedule like that.”

“Um… wow. Thank you, Ms. … Um…”

“Smith, but you can call me Jane, sweetheart.” She chuckled. “Margie’s carried my maiden name ever since we threw your free-loading father out… No offense, but I kept his, I suppose to remind myself of happier times.”

“None taken. I didn’t even know him. So are you going to stay with us? You can have my room if you want.”

“That’s very kind of you dear, but I have other arrangements. I had only planned to stay for a few days, but knowing the step-daughter I never even knew I had is going to be in her school’s Homecoming ceremony this week? I certainly can’t leave now.” She smiled proudly.

Barely thirty minutes ago, I wanted nothing to do with this woman, and now I couldn’t help liking her. I had to wonder if that made me naíve, or too trusting, but she did seem genuinely apologetic for her earlier outburst. She probably expected someone like Josh: tall, built like an Abrams tank with a strong jaw and freakishly big hands and feet, whereas thanks to the miracle of puberty-blocking drugs, I had been developing as a natural, proper girl for months now.

After cleaning up our dishes, I left the room to head up to bed. I paused when I heard Margie and Jane talking again, though.

“Now do you see?”

“Yes, I do… I feel so awful, Margie. Do you really think she’ll forgive me?”

“I think she already has. You’ll find my little sister is awesome like that.”

Jane chuckled quietly. “She certainly didn’t get that from her father. I look forward to finally meeting Linda.”

I smiled at that, as I quietly ascended the stairs. I didn’t have a father, and from what I continued to learn of him, I had been better off for it. Still I at least had Mom, the Joneses, and maybe with time, Sensei Rogers might be interested in the position.

For now though, my thoughts returned to Aria Blade, and what sinister plot Raven Wing had in store for her. I picked up my comic book and neatly placed it with the others, curling up on my bed with Mister Kensington, and letting my mind wander where it may.