T.J.'s Experiment In Pink

by Anne O'Nonymous

 

Part Eleven

 

"Teddies" is an Italian/Chinese/American restaurant. I was told they have a fabulous Won Ton soup. Entering the mall, we walked past two ladies' shops, a sports store, and into the restaurant, where a waiter who inquired, "smoking or non-smoking," immediately greeted us.

"Non," mom said, and we were led through and seated in a booth near the rear. Passing men seated at various tables, I could feel the stares – turning quickly, I even caught one in the act! He grinned sheepishly and hid his face behind an inverted menu. I smiled at the woman seated next to him, wondering what she would say to him when they got home.

Before sitting, Helen took me and Nan to the ladies, where we did our necessary chores, washed hands, and checked makeup. Helen watched me add a little lipstick and blusher, giving me a thumbs-up.

Back at our table, I ordered a small house salad, shrimp/scallop scampi, and tea. Around us, men gave us predatory glances, some women – admiring looks, and the few children – smiles.

Again, a complimentary wine; Mom filled the glasses, and we toasted to a successful day. I wondered how much more we had to do on the project, as it seemed we were finished, so . . .

"Mom, how far into the operation are we?"

"Well, it's mostly editing, continuity checks, adding necessary sound, then showing before selected focus groups and audiences. For the most part, Terri, you can go back to your P.A. job."

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Kids, Nan, did Nancy ever tell you about Toby?" Helen said, a twinkle in her eye.

"No, please, Helen. Not that," mom said frowning.

"Who's Toby?" I asked, expecting to sleep on the porch.

"Toby Wilson was a gorgeous girl," mom began, "she was a bit grating, though. Some of us set her up on a mystery date, the stipulation being that she goes through with the date, no matter what."

"Okay," Nan interrupted.

"Well, we set her up with the biggest nerd on campus. Oh God, was she furious! She stayed angry for a week."

Helen finished: "She dated other guys, but they were . . . well, crude . . . she said Donald really treated her like she was special. A week after graduation, she married Donald."

Sandra inquired, "And so . . . ."

Helen looked at mom, smiled, then replied, "Two months ago, she took me out on their private yacht. Her husband's a real sweetheart, waited on us hand and foot. Seems he developed a computer program to predict certain market futures, with a 5 percent margin of error, and, over time, he was able to parlay a three thousand dollar investment into several million, which allowed him to start his own specialty software company."

As we ate, I played footsie with Nan, Sandra joined in, and the ladies relived the football games, dances, and college life in general. Several schools had already courted Sandra because of her athletic abilities, but she was hoping for an academic scholarship, as was Fran and Judy. Toni already had a job open in her mother's company, while I still didn't know about Jean's future.

Dessert was a nice slice of hot apple pie with a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Yum, yum!

After a makeup check and paying the bill, we headed for the Junior Miss shop. I grabbed a dressing room, Sandra went looking for clothes, and Nancy and Helen took a comfortable seat to watch the frenzy. Four dresses, two blouses, and five skirts later (adding a blouse, two skirts and two dresses to my wardrobe), we headed to an "intimates" shop. Three men hanging around outside gave me the eye, smile, and wink treatment. I gave them the "kiss Nan and Sandy treatment." I enjoyed mine more!

In a dressing room, the three of us tried on bras, panties, camis, pettipants and slips – being half-dressed most of the time. Fastening and unfastening bras on pretty girls sure beats batting practice! I found myself trying on the lacier items, modeling them for Nan or Sandy, and getting good insights on how I looked. When strutting around the room, I would've preferred high heels to better show the clothes.

Now, although this was underwear, I wanted it to be as pretty as possible. You can't feel feminine outside with plain ole cotton drawers! Helen and Nancy joined us as I was modeling a particularly pretty lavender satin bra-and-panty set. Honestly, I didn't feel ill at ease around Helen, even though we just met that day; but, here I wasn't uncomfortable being half-dressed and yet, in the boy's locker room at school, I felt like everyone was staring at me – checking out the competition, I suppose.

Well, fun was over -- we grabbed our loot, headed for the cars and home. I rode with Helen to direct her, in case we got separated. Following mom's car, Helen asked, or more stated, "Terri, you surprise me."

"How so, Helen?"

"You seem to be so much at ease in those clothes."

"Emm, I guess I surprised myself – I should be a male and not wear such frilly stuff. But, it's fun, also it . . . it makes me feel different and special in a way."

"I think you released a demon," Helen grinned, "and now you are living."

"DEMON!"

"Relax, the demon is 'I'm a man, and men don't wear/do those things.' Men have to be large and in control, yet you allow others to assist you, even asking and using their opinions."

I laughed and replied, "even girls," hoping it wouldn't be taken the wrong way.

"Yes, mostly girls. TJ, have you ever thought about what you want to be?"

"Umm, not lately! I kind of want to see what my options are, see what I'm really good at, ya know. I'm thinking of college, but with Sandra – well, after she's finished, I might go," Terri replied hesitatingly.

"Have you ever noticed, Terri," Helen replied, "Girls are raised with a purpose in life."

I took a look out the window to check on mom ahead, then asked, "How so?"

"Well, at an early age, girls play with dolls learning to care for children; their mothers teach them to cook on easy-bake ovens, how to sew and do housework, while boys play most of the day. That could explain why girls mature earlier than boys, because from an early age, they gain useful skills, which have an established purpose – an identity -- while boys really do not. With that in mind, don't you think a girl would be more at peace with herself, knowing she has a 'feeling' for her possible future, while boys are still unsure?"

Well, that's a surprise!

"But that's all 'woman's work,' " I replied, "It would seem all that would be doing is just tying her down to a home – making life easier for her husband."

"So, you think cooking meals, maintaining a clean house, keeping a baby well-fed and dressed isn't important? Remember, keeping a house is quite close to running a successful business," Helen replied.

That made sense! Mom often kept track of bills paid, personal expenses, shopped carefully for the best bargains. I know she checks everything on the clothes she buys, and I seem to be doing the same thing. Recipe ingredients and measuring would seem to indicate women would make better chemists.

"Oh dear, I seemed to have lost Nancy," Helen suddenly exclaimed.

"Where are we," I asked, doing a quick mental search.

"Sign says 'Porter Ave.' "

"Make a left at the next light, down to the Burger King, make a right and go to light."

"Okay," she replied, getting into the turning lane.

We turned onto Porter, then proceeded the four blocks to BK, and made a right.

"So, as I understand it, a 'play' attitude is established in boys/men, while a 'take care' one is created in girls/women. That seems to, oh I guess, indicate why men are competitive, and women cooperative."

"Right. In most games, one side is pitted against the other; whereas, in many 'girl' games, jump rope for example, there is a kind of cooperation involved. Males have an 'inwardness,' while females are 'outward.' It would seem to be indicative of the reason many men are compulsive gamblers, sports addicts, and/or risk takers."

I thought a second, then a concept came to mind, "Would that explain why most of the male killers do so for money, sport or to support a habit, while females do so to protect children or themselves when they are in actual or perceived danger?"

"Umm, that's a little too broad a statement, but, in my opinion, possibly so."

Coming up to a circle, I said, "Take the first street off the circle."

Helen entered the circle, turned a bit following my directions, and off onto a two-lane tree-shaded boulevard called "Spencer Lane," where I usually rode my bike to school.

"Go three blocks, on the right there's a house with 'For Sale' sign. Make a left at that street; our house is in the middle of a small set-off on the left."

The timing was almost perfect! We parked three minutes before mom.

"How did you . . . ."

"Back way, mom," I answered.

"Oh! Helen, park in the driveway. Cars must be off the street at night – local ordinance," mom said.

After Helen parked, mom followed. We walked to the house, and as mom opened the front door, she asked, "anybody up for ice cream?"

Three kids responded, "Yes."

Sandra got bowls, I got spoons, and mom dished out the chocolate mint chip.

"Helen, how did you wind up where you are, I mean . . . ," mom tentatively asked.

Helen smiled before replying, "Well, after college I went to work as a research chemist for my doctorate in molecular biological chemistry. I thought about women, and why couldn't makeup be used to better advantage. So I based my study on them, and learned cosmetology in the process. Ms. Mueller's company and some others use a few of my patents in their products, so . . ."

I was curious, so I asked, "The makeup I used today?"

"Has moisturizers, Vitamin E and A, and other ingredients micro-encapsulated to help the whole body. Body and hand creams do the same," Helen answered, "so throughout the day, the pores take in various vitamins and amino acids released by the makeup."

How interesting – time-release makeup! Well, I finished my ice cream and was tired, so I said, "Well, everybody, I'm tired so I'll hit the hay. Good night all!"

"Good night, Terri," from mom and Sandra.

"Good night, dear," from Helen.

"Good night, love," from Nan.

Ahhhh, she called me love!

After doing the necessary cleanup, spending a penny, washing the face and hands, I put on an off-white nightie and crawled into bed. After wriggling to a comfortable position, I was ready for the night, and as I reached to put the bed lamp out, the door to my bedroom opened.

"Move over, will you," stated Sandy coming over to get in. She was wearing a pair of boy's blue-striped cotton pajamas.

I moved over to the middle, lifted the covers, and soon the two of us were snuggled together. As I said, I had a very good relationship with my sister, and dressed as I was, I felt a lot closer.

Again, I tried to extinguish the light, but the door opened again. Sheesh, my room is now on a parade route – maybe I should wait for the color guard and band to pass. "I hope you have an extra pillow!" I said, emphatically.

"I come bearing a gift of pillow from the far corners of the house," replied a giggling Nan, wearing a pair of red-striped cotton pajamas.

"Join the crowd!" Sandy said.

"Here, Terri," Nan replied as she gave me the pillow. She got in with us, so there we were – a patriotic group!

"So, Terri," Nan started, "how's the experiment coming?"

I thought a minute, then replied, "I don't know about those men, but, as for myself, I feel a lot closer to sis and her friends, more like I'm one with them."

"My friends were always yours," Sandy interrupted.

"I was unsure, Sandy. But I felt that there was this . . . this, emm, gap between us – a boy-girl thing, ya know," I replied, struggling to get the right words, "I'm beginning to feel more like a part of your group."

Nan added, "Oh, in pants, it's like you are an outsider, and in a dress, you just fit in – one of us. Am I right?"

"That's about it!"

"The whole pretty girl thing," Nan said, "you love everything about them; all the way down to the clothes they wear!"

In the darkened room, I could not tell if Sandy was smiling or not when she replied, "I knew that for years, Nan."

"I thought you would! Oh boy, I got myself a soft and gentle boyfriend who just loves females – what a find."

Did she just say the magic word "boyfriend?" I was delirious with happiness. Oh joy! Calm down, TJ; pull yourself together. "Did I just hear you correctly – boyfriend?"

"Sure did, lover. I want someone who will be close to me. Someone who will feel my joy, sorrow, and pain; who will be my boyfriend to date, a girlfriend to shop with, and everything in between."

Before she went too much further, I quieted her with a kiss. Sandy got one too, as I hated to have her feeling left out.

Mom came in and added her kisses to each of us. I don't know about you, but those gentle pecks on the cheek mean, "I am loved and wanted."

Nan started, "Hey, what did you think of that dinner?"

Off we went on another line, and after a short talk, off we went, hand in hand in hand, to dreamland.

A very noisy alarm finally brought us out of our Nemo-like adventures in slumberland, and back to the present. We untangled, used the bathroom facilities, and, in matching robes and fuzzy slippers, went down to breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs, Nan grabbed me in an embrace, and gave me a big – a very big – kiss.

"What was that for? I didn't do anything!" I said.

Nan replied, "Precisely."

And I understood what she meant!

"A very good morning to all," we chorused, as if we rehearsed all night.

"Good morning, kids," from Helen and mom.

Breakfast was Spanish omelets, home fries, lean bacon, OJ, toast with strawberry jam, and coffee. Nancy and I had English Breakfast tea.

It was during breakfast that mom said, "Helen and I were talking last night, and we think a makeup faux pas video could be added. Would you be willing to pose, Terri?"

I needed a few seconds to ponder the idea, then I replied, "You mean stuff like too much blusher, wrong choice of eye shadow, or too much lipstick – stuff like that?"

"That's about it."

"Me and Nan?"

"No, Terri – you get the whole show."

Reluctantly, I replied, "Okay."

Nan smiled in a friendly way, then sighed, "That's showbiz. Star one day, waiting tables the next."

"But, Terri, you get to look pretty," Helen added.

For some inexplicable reason, that made me feel good. So, is a boy that is called handsome, also beautiful or pretty? And, what distinguishes the difference – is it because he's a male, so he's handsome? Why are certain words only applied to one gender and not the other.

After finishing breakfast, we girls did the dishes as the ladies got ready for work. I wiped the counter, Nan got the table, and Sandy put away dishes and silverware. Soon it was our turn to prepare for the day.

"I put clothing out for you, Terri." Mom stated, as she came down the stairs, wearing a pale lime-green pants suit.

"Okay, mom," I replied before going up. I showered alone, checking my smooth, hairless body in a full-length mirror, questioning why men had to be so hairy! Was it a sign of virility, or were they just afraid of shaving all over and being ridiculed.

Wrapped properly in a towel, I went to my room and looked at today's clothes offering: a floral tunic and pedal pusher combo, knee-hi white socks, strappy white sandals, and a pink bra-and-panty set. I added a square-neck camisole, and a gold chain with a heart-shaped locket.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was during the ride to work that I felt an emotional sadness. Was this affair with Nan nothing more than a fling? A brief summertime interlude that benefited her and made me feel like I was wanted. I spent the time looking out the window, away from Helen, gathering my thoughts.

"Hey, Terri, you're awfully quiet, cat got your tongue?"

"No, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Oh, the truth. I'm just kidding myself."

"Again, about what?"

"Nancy! Look at me, Helen – dressed as a pretty girl. Do you really think an extra special girl like Nancy actually wants something like me? I'm just kidding myself, that's all. She'll go off to college, meet a jock, forget all about me and get married to a real man. Me? I have no chance, and I just have to accept it."

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

After parking at work, Helen caught up with mom and Nancy, while I hung back and walked in with Sandy.

Helen, Sandy and mom headed for the studio deep in conversation, Nancy waved "so-long" as she headed to her escorting duties, and I needed to check Kathy's office.

With "hellos" and mysterious hugs from the staff I knew, I checked Kathy's main office, watered plants, filed a few lab reports, and looked for any incoming instructions, finding only a note: "Terri, I'll be returning Saturday afternoon, along with my PA. She'll be returning to work on Monday, at which time I'll give your mother a company check for your services. I want you, Sandra, and your mother to attend dinner at my home so I can personally thank you for all you done. Cordially, Ms. Kathleen T. Mueller."

There it was – my office days were over. No more Terri, TJ was back to pants, T-shirt, and sneaks. Maybe even pick-up baseball games? Nah! There was supposed to be an art exhibit at a local museum, and that was more my speed.

Well, the morning was spent with mom, Sandra and Helen. I put on makeup, Helen critiqued it, and mom or Sandy taped it. It was "too much eye shadow," "not enough foundation," or something else. I had to ask questions again, and there I got some help from Sandy behind the scenes. Taking into account the putting it on, correcting errors in use, and making repairs, I was getting to be quite an expert.

It was at lunchtime that I knew what I had to do about Nancy. Only she beat me to it.

"Terri, I've made a decision," she began slowly, pausing between words.

Was she going to drop me here and now? I waited for the inevitable.

"Emm, TJ," she restarted, "I want to give you this."

She handed me a small box – which I speedily opened. The ring inside was beautiful – a square-cut ruby and four small baguette-cut diamonds on a dainty silver ring.

"Terri, I love you and no-one else," Nan said smilingly, "I want you to think of us as now being engaged."

"I . . . I . . . don't . . .know what to . . . say," I muttered, trying to compose an answer, "Nan, you are my life. Yes, I'll marry you whenever, wherever you want!"

There were kisses and hugs from all present.

I just sat there, turning that most beautiful ring around and around my finger, crying with a happiness I never felt before. After all, a girl can cry with joy, too.

 

THE END

 

 

 

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