During the next four days Maryanne learned even more things about acting like a nice girl should. Auntiie never let up watching him carefully. “Don’t slouch like that, Maryanne,” she’d say. “It’s bad for your back and certainly doesn’t look very lady-like.” She also made sure he always held his fork with his fingers and thumb and not like he was making a fist. She taught him to place his linen napkin across his lap slightly to the left, and also to keep his left hand in his lap while he ate after he had cut his food. And he was never to bend his face over his plate when he ate, but bring the food to his mouth with his fork while he sat up nice and straight.
“Nice girls wear white shoes during the summer, Maryanne. If you get a scuff mark on them, wipe it off with a damp tissue.”
“Yes, Auntiie,” he said for about the hundredth time that day.
Of course Auntiie gave him (and herself) a break now and then. Maryanne didn’t really have to help her with the housework as long as he kept his room nice and neat. During the afternoon he sometimes would take a little nap on his pretty bed. But he also was beginning to play with girl things a lot and to read the little magazines for girls. At first he did it simply because he was bored and couldn’t think of anything else to do. But after a while he began liking it. And Auntiie always made her little smile at him when she saw him playing with his paper dolls or dressing his doll.
They went into town to go shopping two more times that week. At first Maryanne was scared and embarrassed someone would see he was really a boy, but Auntiie told him that wouldn’t happen as long as he acted like a nice girl. He was too pretty now for people to think he was a boy. The stores they went to were all for women and girls only. When he had to try on a dress Auntiie would go into the dressing room with him to help him change. And sometimes she’d let him pick out certain things for himself.
“Pick out some nice panties, dear. You know which ones will make you feel pretty.”
That was something else they had begun to talk about. Auntiie told him that when he began to “feel” pretty, he’d really be starting to think like a nice girl. She asked him if any of his dresses had become his favorites yet.
“No Auntiie,” he replied. “They’re all pretty girls dresses, but I don’t have any favorite ones.”
“You will, dear,” she said with that little smile. “You will.”
It was about this time that Maryanne began to realize that Auntiie was very smart. She seemed to know how he was going to act, what he would do and how he would feel.
He also knew that he was really starting to act like a girl all the time now. There were some things he didn’t like about it, but he was still afraid of Auntiie. The best thing to do seemed to be whatever she told him to do. He had no doubt that if he got into a big argument with her, he’d get a hairbrush spanking. But besides that, his Mommy had told him to do whatever Auntiie said.
Sometimes he would be sitting down and he would look at his pretty dress, and at Auntiie’s nice home (still a little scarey, but he was getting used to it), and think how they had some really delicious food in some of the restaurants and tea rooms they visited. Then he’d begin thinking that maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Besides, it was only for a month. Auntiie still didn’t treat him very lovey-dovey like Mommy did, but at least she smiled at him from time to time now. He guessed he must be doing the things she wanted. He sighed and wondered if there’d be anything different happening during the next three weeks.
On Saturday, Auntiie took him to town once again to buy a really special pretty dress. They were going to go to a bridge party on Sunday afternoon, and while Auntiie played cards and gossiped with the other ladies, he would play with the other little girls. They’d all be wearing their prettiest dresses, and Auntiie wanted him to look extra nice for the occasion.
This time Auntiie took him to a special store. It was a very expensive store and was called Beverly’s, and Mrs. Beverly, the owner of the store, was a friend of Auntiie’s. Aunt Corinne told him that Mrs. Beverly was a very nice lady and would treat him just as if he was her own little girl.
When they entered the store Maryanne could see several girls with their mothers looking at dresses and things in the aisles. It was very pretty in the store with all sorts of girl clothes on display. Every time Auntiie took him shopping for clothes, he still felt a little nervous. Jane Beverly was on the far side of the store talking with a customer when she spotted Corinne. She turned the customer over to a salesgirl and made her way to her friend. A model when she was younger, Jane was still a striking looking woman. But time and a few pounds had made her decide to leave modeling and start her own business.
“Corinne! It’s so good to see you!” she said as she came up to her, placing her cheek against Corinne’s. Auntiie greeted her as well and then Jane turned her attention to Maryanne.
“And who’s this pretty girl you have with you?” she asked, bending down a bit as she looked at Maryanne with a big smile. Corinne had decided ahead of time that she would tell Jane who Maryanne really was. She was feeling proud about how nice she had changed him, and also wanted to see the reaction of Jane when she found out who Maryanne was.
“Oh, come now,” said Corinne. “Surely you remember my sister’s child?”
“You mean Timmy, Marie’s little boy?”
“Yes,” said Corinne. Marie has to spend a month in New York City on business, and Timmy is staying with me. He’s going to be my niece while she’s gone.” Jane looked at Maryanne with a puzzled expression.
“Your niece?” she asked, somewhat incredulously.
“Yes,” said Corinne. “He likes dressing up like a nice girl and wants to be my niece for the month. Isn’t he pretty? His name is Maryanne now.” Jane shook her head a little, still not sure she was hearing things right. She wanted to talk to Corinne without Maryanne being there. Spotting a salesgirl without a customer, she beckoned her over.
“Well, Maryanne,” she said, “it’s very nice to meet such a pretty girl.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Beverly,” said Maryanne with a nice smile. Then the salesgirl arrived and Jane told her to show Maryanne some pretty dresses while she talked with Corinne for a few minutes.
“Go ahead with the nice lady,” said Aunt Corinne. The saleslady took his hand and led him off down the aisle a little ways, believing him to be a real little girl. Jane turned her attention to Corinne.
“Corinne, what’s going on here? Some kind of costume party or something? What’s the joke?”
“It’s no joke, Jane,” said Corinne. “He has to stay with someone while Marie is gone, and I told her that he could stay with me, but only if he became my cute little niece while he was with me. You know how I feel about boys.”
“Corinne! You can’t do this to him…not for a whole month! God knows what it might do to him.”
“Well, it may surprise you to know that his mother approves of it. And from what I can see, Maryanne is beginning to like being my niece.”
“Even so, Corinne, you shouldn’t be doing this,” said Jane. “I know there are plenty of women that dress up their little boy for an afternoon’s fun. But you can’t do it for a month!”
“Jane,” said Corinne calmly, “he really is beginning to like being a girl. And besides, his mother wanted to dress him up like a girl herself but was always too busy. I told her that she could finally see what kind of girl Timmy would have been like when she gets back. It’ll probably improve his behavior, too.”
“Oh, the poor child,” said Jane. “A couple of crazy women toying around with his sexual identity at such a helpless innocent age.”
“Nonsense!” said Corinne. “He’s a nine year old child. Six months from now he won’t even remember any of this. He’ll be back in his jeans and sneakers and running around with his pals as if it never happened. But for now, I think he’s finding it kind of fun to be a girl. You have to admit…he does make a very pretty girl.”
Jane looked down and shook her head. “I don’t know…I certainly hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Now,” said Corinne, “I’m taking him with me to Catherine’s bridge party tomorrow. And I want an especially pretty dress for him. While we play cards he can play with the other little girls there. It will be good for him to make some new friends to replace those street ruffians he played with.”
“This just doesn’t feel right,” said Jane.
“Jane…Please,” said Corinne. “Forget about your worries and help me to pick out a nice dress for him.”
“Follow me,” said Jane as they began heading towards the area where there was a better grade of dresses. They rejoined Maryanne along the way. As they began looking at different dresses, Jane found herself saying, “With that lovely blond hair, pink really is his color.”
Maryanne heard Mrs. Beverly say “his color”. But she was so nice to him it didn’t bother him that she knew he was really a boy.
By the time they had decided on a dress, word had somehow gotten around among the salesgirls that Maryanne was a boy. The ones that weren’t taking care of a customer gathered near the cash register and talked quietly with big smiles as they looked over at him.
“Jane, are you going to the bridge party tomorrow?” asked Corinne.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” Jane replied. She would never admit it, but she was dying to see how pretty Corinne could make Timmy look. The new dress was boxed up and Jane bent down towards Maryanne to say goodbye.
“Maryanne, it was very nice to meet you, dear. I’ll see you again at the bridge party tomorrow. In the meantime you do as Auntiie tells you and be a good girl.” She gave him a little kiss on his cheek.
“I will, Mrs. Beverly,” he answered with a big smile.
Corinne was smiling, too.
When they got home, Maryanne carried the dress box up to his room, and carefully took the dress out and hung it in his closet for the next day’s bridge party. Then he came back down to the living room.
Aunt Corinne was standing in front of the large mirror near the front door. When Maryanne entered, Corinne looked over at her without any expression and told her to sit down on the couch. But Corinne herself remained standing, looking at Maryanne. Then after a minute or so, she began smiling at Maryanne and came over to sit down next to him.
Maryanne didn’t know what was going on. Auntiie was really smiling, not just the little mechanical smile she sometimes made. Or the smile that made her look like she’d just beaten someone in a contest.
Corinne slipped her arm around Maryanne’s shoulders as she sat next to him, something she’d never done before. Maryanne looked up at her with big eyes, wondering what was happening. Auntiie actually looked friendly to him.
“Maryanne,” began Corinne, “You’ve been a very good girl this week. I know you probably thought I didn’t like you very much when you first got here. But I hope you’ll start to like me now, Maryanne, because I’m starting to like my little niece very much.”
“You are, Auntiie?” he asked.
“Yes, dear,” replied Corinne. “You see, honey, you’re not just acting like a girl because Auntiie says you have to. You’re doing it naturally like a real little girl. Are you starting to like being a girl, Maryanne?”
Maryanne hung his head down and sat there quietly, fingering the side of his dress.
“What’s the matter, dear?” asked Corinne. “Don’t be embarrassed. Tell Auntiie the truth, honey.” She gave his shoulder an encouraging tug.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Auntiie. I don’t want to be a sissy, but…well, there seems to be a lot of things that I like now…girl things.”
“See, Maryanne?” said Corinne. “Didn’t Auntiie tell you that you start to like it after a while?”
“Yes, Auntiie,” he replied, “but is it bad for me to be feeling this way?”
“Bad! Why should it be bad?!” said Corinne. “Remember what Auntiie told you, dear….being a girl is better than being a boy.”
“Yes, Auntiie,” he replied.
“Now tell me what some of the things you’re starting to like are,” said Corinne. “Do you like wearing a dress now?”
Maryanne began to cry and leaned against his Auntiie. Corinne hugged him to her side and kissed his cheek.
“Don’t cry, honey,” said Auntiie. “This is the way you should be starting to feel…just like any other nice girl. It’s alright, dear. Don’t cry. It makes Auntiie feel bad to see her pretty niece crying.” She took a tissue from her sleeve and began to dab at his tears.
“There. Now tell Auntiie what some of the nice girl things are that you like.” She smiled down at him. Really smiled. Maryanne stopped crying and looked up at her. Auntiie seemed so different now, he thought. She was almost as friendly and nice as Mommy was. Maybe it would be okay to tell her.
“Well,” he began, “I think I’m starting to like wearing pretty clothes and feeling pretty, too. And it’s kind of fun dressing up my nice doll that Mrs. Cabot gave me, too. But it’s more than just those things, Auntiie.”
“What else do you like, Maryanne?” asked Corinne.
“I like acting like a girl, and having people think I am a girl, too,” he said.
“Maryanne!” said Auntiie. “That’s just the way you should feel, sweetheart. And that’s how Auntiie and your Mommy want you to feel.”
“Mommy, too?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, dear,” replied Auntiie. “Your Mommy will be so happy when she gets home and sees what a nice girl she has now.”
“But do you think she’ll still let me be a boy sometimes, too, Auntiie?”
“That’s up to her, sweetheart,” said Auntiie, “but maybe by then you won’t want to be a boy anymore. You’re just starting to find out how nice it is to be a girl. You still have three more weeks before Mommy gets home, and by then you’ll like it a lot more.”
“You told me that before, Auntiie, and I didn’t really believe you,” said Maryanne. “But now I think it’s true.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad to have you living with me as long as you try to be a nice girl.” Corinne smiled down at him and tugged his shoulder again encouragingly. “You see, honey, I like nice little girls very much. More than I realized before. You’re making me very happy with the way your becoming a nice girl. And you’re so pretty! I’m proud to take my pretty niece with me when we go places.”
“It sounds so…different to say things like this, Auntiie,” said Maryanne. “But I can’t help it. I like being a girl now. And it’s nice when you take me shopping for pretty things to wear.” Corinne was still smiling at him.
“You’re turning into the nice little girl Auntiie and Mommy wanted you to be, Maryanne. And it’ll make you and me and Mommy very happy.”
When Maryanne woke up the next morning, he lay there for a while, thinking about where he was and what he would be doing that day.
Both he and his bed smelled nice. The bubble baths he took or the showers and dusting powder kept him smelling nice. And sometimes Auntiie would put a dab or two of toilet water on him as well. His little nightie was very soft and comfortable on him.
He was very happy to see Aunt Corinne acting so friendly towards him now. She really seemed to like him now that he was acting so much like a girl. It still puzzled him why that could mean so much to anyone, but it sure made a difference to Auntiie. And that made a big difference to him, because now she didn’t seem so threatening to him.
Later today they would go to a bridge party and he would be wearing his new pretty dress. Auntiie said he would meet other girls his own age there and be able to play with them while she and the other ladies talked and played cards. She said it was about time he had the ‘right kind’ of friends. That scared him a little. Would the other girls know he wasn’t a real girl? Would they let him play with them? Auntiie said he should bring along the nice doll Mrs. Cabot had given him and show the other girls how pretty he could make her look in her big old fashioned dress.
He also knew that Auntiie wanted to show him off to the other ladies there. But that didn’t bother him so much anymore. He was more worried about the other girls liking him. He hadn’t played with anyone since he moved in with Auntiie. It would be nice to have some new friends, even if they were girls.
Then he thought of his old pals. It would be really bad if they found out what he was doing now: dressing and acting like a girl, and worse yet, really beginning to like it. They must be wondering where he was. He hoped they didn’t look very hard for him. But he knew that the places he went with Auntiie didn’t make it very likely he’d be running into them.
Finally he got out of bed, put on his robe and slippers, and went downstairs to have breakfast. There was a big day ahead for him, and he knew Auntiie would be spending more time getting him ready to go out.