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Sing a Healing Song Chapter 1 It all started with a trip to Ireland. Well, not "all". You could say some of it started the day I was born, and named Matthew D'Arcy, the only son of Mark D'Arcy, a football player, and his wife Annette. And maybe some of it started later that same day when Annette died from complications of giving birth to me. I was always a sickly kid, and my dad eventually gave up football so he could look after me better, and I have never doubted his love for me. As for my health, I got a little better, but I never really got all the way better, if that makes any sense. In fact, after a decade of being more or less stable, I went downhill again. By my fifteenth birthday I needed a cane for short distances, and a wheelchair for long ones. Despite my struggles, I try really hard to keep a positive outlook, and going to the school I go to kinda helps with that. Its a school that is made especially for disabled kids and attached to one of the local hospitals, and it doesnt take you long walking around here to find someone who has a tragic story to tell. I actually do pretty well at school considering my struggles, partially because I love reading so much. Fiction or nonfiction, I love it all. That's when my dad came up with this idea of going to Ireland. I had gotten interested in the family history, and he suggested we see where we came from, and it sounded pretty cool to me. So as summer holidays approached, I said my goodbyes to my friends and everyone wished me well on my trip. I even got a hug from a couple of girls, which was kinda fun ... So off we went to "the Emerald Isle", as they call it. Its amazingly beautiful, and I can really see where the name comes from. I mean, my home town has some really cool green spots, but ... wow is all I can say. We went from Edmonton, to Calgary, to Toronto, to Dublin, to Belfast, and then to a small airfield in the northern part of Ireland, and finally to a small town called Coleraine. We poked around the town for the day, and then retired to a small hotel to sleep. Dad helped me do my washroom business and then he helped me get into my pjs for bed. One of the cool things about my dad is he's strong enough to transfer me, not that I weigh lot, but still, he can hold me up so I can be changed into pjs without any problems. He gave me a kiss on my forehead, and went to his own bed. I wondered what his football teammates would say seeing him so gentle with me, since from what I've learned, he was quite feared on the football field. Yeah, I looked up my dad's football career. He'd actually been a quarterback in high school, but switched to defence in University because our little Canadian Football League hasn't had a Canadian quarterback in forever. If he's ever felt any regret about giving up football to look after a son who will never be an athlete, he's never shown it around me. I fall asleep feeling so grateful to have a dad like him. *** The next morning, I woke up, and Dad helped me get dressed. We went downstairs and found a small cafe next to the hotel to have breakfast. While we waited for our food, I got a chance to ask the question that had been on my mind since yesterday. "Dad, what are we really doing here?" He smiled at me, and said, "Seeing where we came from." "So we've seen it. But we're not packing to go home. " "There is one spot left for us to see. A couple of miles up the road is a warm spring." "A ... warm spring? I mean, I've heard of hot springs. Alberta has those. What's a warm spring?" It's like the hot springs, except the hot water mixes with cold water from a mountain stream to create a warm pool. Apparently, its like taking a hot bath." "Sounds nice. But I think you're not telling me something." "Well ... this particular pool is supposed to be special. Some say its the minerals in the water, some believe it was blessed by a Catholic saint named Brigid, or even an old Celt goddess of the same name. The water ... is supposed to have miraculous healing power." "And I need healing. Is this a ... hail Mary, Dad? Am I running out of time?" "You remember what I said about hope, don't you?" "You can't survive without it. Sick or well." "Darn straight. Now, let's go." We took our rental car out of town, and after a half-hour of driving, we found the entrance to the path to the spring, where we could park our car. It was lucky for us that the path had been smoothed, as my dad had to push my chair up a slight incline into a forest glade. After several minutes, we rounded a corner, and there was a small shack where I could change into my swimsuit and even have a quick shower before I was wheeled to the water's edge. I had expected a crowd, but the place was empty. My dad carefully lifted me out of the chair and sat me on the edge of the pool, and then I took a deep breath, and eased myself into the water. It was wonderful, like taking a really warm bath and swimming in the ocean all at once. Then the singing started. The song was both sad and beautiful, as if the singer was mourning a loss and celebrating a life at the same time. Then she came close enough for me to see her. If her song was difficult to describe, so was she. She seemed to be part water, part fire, and part woman, but which parts where which kept changing. As she approached, her face became more visible, and like the rest of her, its hard to put into words what her expression was. It seemed to combine grief with determination, like she had lost more than she could take, but was hell-bent on losing no more. She kneeled down to my level, and cupped my face, and then kissed me on the forehead. A moment later, I was drowning, I was burning ... Then I found myself standing on the edge of the pool. Standing ... without aid ... Before I could process that, I heard my father call my name. I looked at him, and what I saw ... The first thing I noticed was I was looking at him straight in the eye. Up until a few moments ago, I was at least a full foot shorter than my dad, and that's if I could have stood up on my tiptoes. Then I noticed something else. I saw my dad in some kind of double-vision. I could see him, but at the same time I could see all the damage he'd suffered playing football, from some stitches on his scalp to a broken toe on his left foot. I also could see emotional scars on him as well. The two largest of these was a well of grief over my mother, and a pit of worry over me . "I'm okay," I said trying to calm him down. "What the heck ..." I added once I heard my voice, which was totally different than the wheezing voice I had been used to hearing when I spoke. "Okay, so my voice is different, I'm taller, what else has changed?" I thought to myself. I turned and looked down into the water. "I'm a ... I'm a ... woman." Fortunately, my dad was close enough to catch me before I hit the ground ... ***** Chapter 2 For a while after that, I floated in lights. I can't really describe it, it was just ... The woman who had changed me was there. She smiled at me, and then said, "Time to return to the mortal plane ... daughter." And just like that I woke up. I was laying on a cot in a first aid shack near the pool. I saw my dad by my bed, looking concerned. "Hi," I managed. My dad looked like he was going to cry. "Hi. Its ... really you, in there?" "Uh huh. " "And how do you feel? Health-wise, I mean?" "I think ... I'm healthy. Maybe even more than healthy. But ..." "You're a woman. Which has to feel a little odd. But maybe that's better than being crippled, maybe even dying?" "Was I dying, Dad?" "Dying enough for me to take the risk of coming here for a healing. Although I didn't expect the sex change." I giggled, and said, "Me either. Help me up." My dad gave me his hand, and I struggled to my new feet. Once I was standing, I took a deep breath and let go of my dad's hands. I felt ... amazing. "Wow, Dad. This is ... awesome." My dad managed a smile. Then something occurred to me. "Dad? How are we gonna get me home? I don't look like what I did when I left." My dad looked thoughtful. "I dont know. Give me a while to think about it." I gave him a hug, which felt pretty strange. Then I got the double image again - seeing all the damage he'd suffered playing football. And somehow, I knew I could fix him. I began to sing a song in a language I didn't know, guided by instinct, while continuing to hold him tightly. He glowed. "What ... what..." "I'm healing you, dad. Can't you feel it?" Then I knew he was totally healed, and I stopped singing. "Whoa." He said. "You feel better?" "Yes. Yes, I do." "I think I healed you, Dad. Like your broken toe. How does it feel now?" "It's ... it's all better. How did you do that?" "I ... I'm not sure. I just ... saw what was wrong with you, and fixed it." "So not only are you yourself healed, you can heal others?" "Looks that way. And I didn't even turn you into a girl in the process." "For which I'm grateful." My dad said with a smile "I guess this makes you a superhero with super-healing as your power." "Except that I dont look like I did. I don't know how I'm gonna be able to go home since I don't resemble my passport," I said. Then a thought hit me. "Or ... do I?" I went over to my wheelchair which was beside the bed and opened the backpack we'd hung on the back when we left the hotel this morning. Inside, my dad had put an underage passport, so I opened up the backpack and dug around until I found it. I opened it up, and the thought that had crossed my mind was right. My picture had changed to meet my new appearance. Not only that, but I had a learner's permit for driving a car that stated I was now seventeen years old, and pretty darn tall for a girl. I also had a new name - Fiona Kathleen D'Arcy I showed both ID's to my dad, saying, "Look! I can drive!" My dad took the learner's permit and shook his head "Not without me in the car, you cant ...Fiona. But it does look like whoever healed you thought of everything." I looked down at my swimsuit, which had changed with into a one-piece women's swimsuit, and said, 'Not everything. I need a new wardrobe." My dad grinned at me, and said, "Not even an hour of being a woman, and you already want to go shopping." I giggled, and gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Dad!" "Besides, I think your clothes changed too. Look at the outfit you were wearing before you changed into your bathing suit." He handed me my clothes, and, sure enough, even though they were still a t-shirt and jeans, they were made for my new frame, and slightly feminized. As was the underwear, which now also included ... A bra. "I gotta wear this?" "I think you'd better. Unless you want every man who sees you to know you aren't wearing one." Suddenly, my dad looked almost shy. "Look. I'll ... step out and let you get changed. Then we can head back to the hotel." I realized he had a point. It was one thing for him to help me dress or undress when I was a) unable to do it without help, and b) a boy, but both those situations had now changed. The panties were easy, as were the jeans, even though they were pretty tight. The bra was a little more problematic, as I had never even seen a girl in one, much less help her take it off, but eventually I hooked the hooks together, and put it on like a shirt before adjusting it until most of my breasts were inside the cups. I slipped on the t-shirt, slipped my bare feet into a pair of ballet flats that had replaced my runners, and then went over to a small mirror in the corner. Even without makeup, even with my hair going in every direction, and even though I wasn't in a skirt or dress, I was stunning. That was something I was gonna have to get used to. I opened the door, and my dad smiled at me, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice as he said, "You look like your mother, a little. Taller than her, but still I can see the resemblance." "I guess that's better than looking like a total stranger," I said. "You've got a point. Let's go back to the hotel." We went to our car, and as we drove back to town, I started to try and think about my future. What was I going to do about school? I couldn't exactly go to a school for sick and disabled kids, so where was I going to go? What about the two years I've lost? And what the heck was I supposed to do with this healing gift? I hadn't made any conclusions by the time we made it back to the hotel. Dad ordered up some supper for us - an Irish stew for him, and shepherd's pie for me. My dad was lost in thought throughout the meal, so I retired to our bedroom, and checked my suitcase. Sure enough, my dad had been right - my clothes had all changed to the closest female equivalents. My dad came in, and grabbed his own suitcase, and said, "I'll sleep on the couch. A girl at your age shouldn't be sharing a room with her father." "You sure, Dad?" "It's just for tonight, we leave after breakfast tomorrow." I wished him goodnight, put on a set of purple pjs, and crawled into the bed. I suspected I was going to need all the energy I could get ... Chapter 3 As I slept, I dreamt of the goddess who had changed me. We were standing in a beautiful green field, and she said to me "Speak your need, my daughter." "Being a daughter is my problem. I never had a girlfriend, because I was too sick, So I don't know anything about girls, much less how to be one." "Have no fear. I've given you all you need. Just focus on your situation, and the answer will be within. To assist you, the girl you have become would be described as a 'tomboy'. Whether she stays that way will by your choice, of course." I suddenly realized something, and said, "I ... I should thank you. I ... I'm grateful not to be dying, even if I have to be a girl." "You are the last of the line that served me, centuries ago. It was my pleasure to repay your ancestors' loyalty. It was as worthy a last act as I could have." "Last ... act?" "I am fading from this world. In human terms, I'm dying." I found myself weeping. "You healed me, I healed my dad. Cant I heal you? Can't you heal yourself?" "Even a goddess has limits, my daughter. It's ... time. But I was permitted to do this one last service before I go." I bowed my head and wept. She came over and held me tight, and said, "Live well, my daughter." I simply let her hold me until the dream faded. In the morning, I woke and dressed in another simple jean-and-t-shirt combo, and packed my suitcase, as we were supposed to go home today. I had just finished when I heard a soft knock at the door. "You ready?" "Sure, Dad," I said, and opened the door. He came into the room rather shyly, checked to make sure we had grabbed everything, and then escorted me out. As we headed downstairs for breakfast, I reflected on his new attitude towards me, and realized he was just the first person who was going to treat me differently because I was a girl. I told him about the dream I had, and he listened without commenting, except to give me a hug when I started tearing up when I said she had told me she was going to die. Once breakfast was over, we went to our rental car and drove to the airport. Once there, we checked in, and found a place to wait as we had almost twenty minutes before we could board our plane. Once we were seated, my dad pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket, and showed it to me. "What's this?" "Its an acceptance letter for one Fiona Kathleen D'Arcy to attend J. Percy Page High School for her grade 12 year. I found it in my suitcase when I was packing this morning."" I looked at the letter. "I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to the school for the disabled. I guess the goddess knew it too, and prepared for it." "What about your friends there?" "Honestly, Dad, I didn't have very many. I think people were scared to get too close to me ... you know, in case ..." "In case you ... left them suddenly?" "Yeah. Besides, looking like I do now, I cant exactly go up to my former classmates and say, 'Hi. I used to be Matthew.' could I?" "Probably not." I shook my head. Going to a new school was going to be interesting, to say the least. I was going to be the "new girl" with both the "new" and the "girl" parts to deal with for the first time. I said so to my dad, and he said, "It will be okay. You've got the rest of the summer to get used to the girl thing. And after a couple of months, you wont be the 'new girl', but just another student, I'm sure." "Thanks dad." "For what?" "Everything. Taking care of me all these years. Being willing to try something crazy to try and find a healing for me. And for being there for me since I transformed." "All part of the job description. You're my child. I love you." I hugged him, and cried a little. It seemed like moments later they called for passengers of our plane to line up for boarding. Going through customs had been very different than when I had come from Canada. Then, I was a sick young man in a wheelchair, and they gave me only the most casual attention. Now, I was a healthy (and attractive) girl, they were a lot more careful to make sure I was not carrying anything dangerous before they had let me through. But finally, we were allowed to board the plane, and settled into our seats. I had noticed that even though I was in a simple t-shirt and jeans combo, many of the men took a peek at me, and some were out-and- out staring at me as I had come onboard. I had some mixed feelings about this. I was a little creeped out thinking about what was probably going through the minds of some of the guys. I hadn't really thought of girls often as a guy, but I knew that was probably because of my illness rather than any virtue I had possessed. But I had been in enough locker rooms to know that guys, at least some of the time, could turn into horndogs really easily. Now I was the potential object of their attention, and I was just going to have to figure out the best way to deal with it. But, frustratingly, I also found myself being slightly flattered by their attention. I had judged myself as a pretty attractive seventeen- year old girl, but the reaction of the guys on the plane had confirmed it, and there was something rather nice in being regarded that way. If I had to be a girl, being an attractive one seemed like a good choice. But something reminded me that there could be dangers involved in being an attractive girl as well. I just hoped that I was up to the challenge ... I had other things to think about as well. There was the whole issue of my ability to heal. How could I use that gift? Would people trust me to heal them? Did I have limits, and if so what were they? Finally, I gave up worrying about it. There was going to be time to get a handle on things, I tried my best to get comfortable in my seat, and closed my eyes and tried to rest. Edmonton, Alberta, Canada - my home and native land, was several hours away ... Eventually, we finally were taxiing to the terminal at the Edmonton International Airport. Although in my opinion it doesn't really deserve either of the first two parts of that name - most flights out were shuttle trips to southern Alberta, so not really "International", and the airport was outside the city limits, so it shouldn't be called "Edmonton" either. Regardless, we finally were allowed to disembark, and went into the car park and found our car. It was getting dark by the time we finally pulled into our own driveway, but we had made a side trip to a local fast food place to supplement the horrible airline food we'd been dealing with on the plane. Food eaten, I took my suitcase up my room, which had changed significantly. I no longer had the special bed I'd needed, or the oxygen tank and I.V. stand that had become a standard part of my life. Now, I had a simple dresser with nine drawers, a twin bed, a closet, and the only obviously feminine addition - a vanity, although there was a laptop on it so it was possible that makeup wasn't something this girl I had become worried about often. I put my clothes in a hamper in the closet, and changed into a set of yellow pj's before crawling into bed. I fell asleep quickly ... **** Chapter 4 I woke from a deep sleep, and for a moment, I was disorientated. For a moment, I thought my whole experiance in Northern Ireland had been a dream, until I brushed my hands down my chest and felt my breasts, which pretty much solved that. Even such casual contact made my breasts tingle a little, and I was tempted to see what all the fuss was about when it came to self- pleasure, but I resisted the urge. I still felt a little like an interloper in this body, and so the thought of caressing it or even staring at it naked seemed perverted in some way. I went and had a shower, and tried really hard not to think about doing what I suspect a lot of teen girls might do in one ... It took two towels to dry off - one for my body, and another for my hair, which was a striking red color instead of the washed-out paint look it had possessed before my change. Then I accessed for the first time the hidden knowledge the goddess had given me, and got a crash course in how to blow-dry and comb my hair, and even how to put it into a ponytail. While I had been working on that, my clock radio had been going, and I heard a forecast that said today was going to be very hot - or at least hot for Edmonton, which is more famous for its cold winter than for summer heatwaves. I dug through my dresser looking for something to wear, and found what I thought was the perfect outfit for the weather - panties, a sports bra, ankle socks, jogging shorts and a loose t-shirt. Once I was dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror. Flame-red hair, a few freckles, green eyes, the same as when I first looked into the water after my transformation. I briefly considered makeup, but I decided to give it a miss for now. I was feeling restless, and had the urge to go for a run, or maybe a bike ride (I had seen a girl's bike in the garage when we had pulled in last night.) I figured my mood was just because I'd been unable to do much physically for years, and I wanted to see what this new body was capable of, and so I went downstairs to grab some cereal before I went out. Unfortunately, my dad was already in the kitchen when I came down, and he looked at my outfit with disapproval. I noted the look, sighed, and said, "What's wrong, Dad?" He held his head in his hands for a moment, and then said, "Look. Before I say anything else, let me start by saying this is territory I can honestly say I never thought I would have to cover with you. So at the risk of sounding like some T.V. dad, are you sure that's the outfit you want to wear today?" "Its supposed to be super hot, Dad. And I would really like to do something physical. Either go for a run or a bike ride. I feel like I've been cooped up too long, and I want to get moving. Besides, I've seen other girls wear this kind of outfit for workouts and jogs and stuff. I'm not showing anything they don't." "You're probably right. But those girls probably have had more experience dealing with boys than you do." "But I will have to gain that experience some way. I don't really want to go to school as a girl being completely ignorant, especially when I have the rest of summer to adjust." "Alright, you've convinced me. But just do one lap of the neighborhood, and then home. And take a water bottle with you, its already pretty hot out there. And in the worst case you can chuck it at a guy and sprint for home." "This isnt exactly a neighborhood full of rapists, Dad. But okay, if it helps keep you from worrying." "I don't think anything will help keep me from worrying. Now go, before I change my mind." I gave him a hug, took the full water bottle, went to the door, put on a pair of runners, and went outside. Then I began the first run of my life. It would be pretty difficult to explain what it felt like to a person who took running or even walking for granted, but I was relishing each step I took, drinking in the sensation of my feet hitting the pavement, soaking in seeing my surroundings from my new perspective. I ran past a school, and vowed that I'd try sports when September came, and imagined myself as an athlete. So I was a little distracted and didn't see the boy standing at the corner until I ran into him. We went down in a heap together, both of us making an "umph" sound as we fell. After a moment's disorientation, I scrambled to my feet and started apologizing, saying "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Are you hurt?" He got up, brushed himself off, and gave me a grin as he said, "Not anymore. You can knock me over anytime." He looked about sixteen or seventeen, buff but not "I spend every waking moment at the gym" buff, with sandy blonde hair and seriously blue eyes. My face flushed until it was probably the same color as my hair. "I'm really sorry." "You can make up for it by introducing yourself." "F.. Fiona." He gave me the smile again, and held out a hand. "Andrew Parker." I tried to act very nonchalant about taking his hand, but I found myself fighting butterflies in my stomach. I had a feeling he was doing the same, as we stood there awkwardly for a couple of minutes. Finally, I gathered my wits about me, and said, "Well, nice to meet you. Bye." He called after me to wait, but I ran as hard as I could the rest of the way back home. I could hear my dad in the living room, so I went there, sat down in a recliner, and said to him, "Well, Dad. I think I have learned something during my run." "And what would that be?" he said, trying to sound casual. "I think its entriely possible that I'm hetrosexual. In so far as I think I like boys." The look on his face was priceless ... ***** Chapter 5. I'll give my dad credit - after a moment of shock, he recovered nicely and listened to me recount my encounter without interrupting until I finished. Then he sighed, and said, "I guess there are worse things than to discover you're hetrosexual." "Well ... I could be bi. I mean, I haven't been exposed to a lot of girls, yet." He gave me a "I dont want to hear this" look, and sighed again. "Look. This might be premature, but if you like guys, I need to give you a talk about ... sex." "I've taken classes in Human Biology, Dad. I know how babies are made." "That's a good start, but have you figured out that you are going to have periods, that you could be the one carrying the baby? If you're a typical teen, you're going to have to ... resist temptation. I remember how it was as a boy, and girls aren't that different in that sense." "Yeah, but Dad, I've had trouble even looking at myself naked. I'm way not ready to show off my body to somebody else, much less have sex." "Which is why it might be a good idea for you to start thinking about it now, so maybe by the time you are ready, some precautions are second nature to you." "Okay, Dad. You're making sense. I should learn all I can." "Good girl. I'll look and see about getting you some information." Then I thought of something. "Just a second, Dad. The goddess said I had all I needed, I just had to ask the question. Let me see what information she left me." "Okay." I closed my eyes, and thought about having a period - and just like the goddess had promised, I knew what I needed to know. But it wasn't like reading it in a textbook, but more like a memory of my girl self's past - In this reality (I had started to think of my change as an alternate reality), I had started having my period at thirteen, and Dad had actually given me the sex lecture more than a year ago. Curious, I looked further, and found that this girl I had become had some boy band crushes, but had not so much as kissed a real boy yet. However, I (as she) had "practiced" kissing with a girlfriend, and enjoyed it enough for me to know that under the right circumstances, I could fall for another girl as easily as for a guy. I blushed as I told my dad about the memories of doing the "I kissed a girl and I liked it" thing, but he just said, "So that means you will have to be just as careful around girls as boys. Being with another girl wont get you pregnant, but being in any kind of relationship can be risky, and there are lots of ways you can get hurt, or hurt the other person even when you don't mean to." "But I cant be alone forever just because I'm afraid of taking a risk. You had mom, do you regret it?" "No, but I was in college, and therefore a had a little easier time realizing the physical aspect was only one part of a whole relationship. As much as I wanted to sleep with your mother ..." "Dad! T.M.I.!" "What?" "Too much information. I really dont wanna picture you and mom doing it, okay?" "Why not. You weren't brought to us by the stork, you know." "Now you're just trying to get back at me for telling you my girl self has kissed another girl." He grinned and me, and we both started laughing. Then my dad said, "Its almost lunch time. You want to order a pizza, or something? Its pretty hot to cook anything." "Sounds good to me," I said, and gave him a sideways hug. "I promise I'll take things slow. I want you to be proud of me." "I know I will be. I already am. You've handled a massive change as well as anyone could have. " "These memories of a girl's life are helping, Dad. Its almost like I grew up a girl." "What about your boy memories?" "Still have them, as far as I can tell. The girl memories only come to mind when I ask myself a question." "And you just get the memory that answers that particular question? You arn't being overwhelmed?" "Just those particular memories, or a least so far. I'm okay, Dad. I promise I'll say something if it gets too much." "Make sure you do." "I will. Now order that pizza!" He smiled at me, and went to the phone. Beside the phone was a list of takeout places, and he showed me the list and asked "Boston Pizza sound good?" "Sure. Back bacon * and mushrooms, please." "Back bacon? You plan on singing 'Oh Canada' and saying 'eh' every other word while you eat it?" "No, because you'd start saying 'Take off, eh' if I did that." We both laughed, and then Dad picked up the phone. He placed the order, and then said, "While we wait, I was wondering what other subjects your girl memory covers." "I don't know, Dad. It's a little like the internet. I can get an answer, but I kinda need to know the best question first." * Back bacon is known as Canadian Bacon outside of Canada. "I hope it has a lot less porn than the internet." "Pretty sure of that. Rule 34, you know." "Rule 34?" "Rule 34 says, 'if it exists, there's porn of it.' I thought everybody knew that." "You haven't ..." "Dad. I was stuck in a wheelchair with nothing to do a lot of the time, and I knew my chances of a real girl even talking to me was virtually non-existent. What do you think?" "How did you just put it? T.M.I.?" "Gotcha!" I giggled at him. "The truth is I had very little sex drive. So actually, the answer is 'I haven't looked at much, if any.' But I had you going, didn't I?" "You did. I can see you're going to be a handful, aren't you?" "Some of the time, Dad. I think that's my job as a teenage girl - to give her dad grey hairs." "Don't give me too many. Remember, karma will get you - if you give me too many headaches, it will make sure you have a kid who gives you just as many." "Anything but that! I'll be good!" We both killed ourselves laughing. Eventually, the pizza arrived, and I ate more than half of it. When I was a boy, I had very little appetite, which might have been a blessing since I wouldn't have been able to exercise any extra calories off. Now, I relished eating a solid meal, and enjoyed it greatly. We had just finished the pizza and I was putting the leftovers into the fridge when I heard someone unlocking our front door. I looked at my dad, and he looked at me, then the door opened and in came ... "M ... Mom?" At least this time, I didn't faint ... **** Chapter 6. Both my dad and I looked at the woman in the doorway trying to keep our jaws from hitting the floor. In the reality where I was a boy, my mom had died giving birth to me. Yet, here she was, apparently alive. But then, gratitude overcame shock, and I ran to her, and hugged her fiercely. "Whoa, Fiona. Not so hard, you'll break me." I started crying. "Honey? What's wrong?" she said. "I've missed you so much!" "I was just in Calgary for my company while you and your dad got to holiday in Ireland, so its only been a week." I wiped the tears from my eyes, and said, "It's felt longer." Just then, my dad must have recovered from his own shock, and came over and hugged us both. "Gee, maybe I should go away more often if this going to be my reception when I come home." My mother said. "No. You've been ... gone long enough." Dad said with a catch in his voice. I just held on to my mother, basking in her presence, feeling her soft, warm, real body, and smelling her perfume. After a while, my mother said, "Okay, okay, you're both glad to see me. Now, can I get my suitcase in?" "I'll get it." My dad said. I looked at his face as we broke the hug, and I thought I understood what he might be feeling. Since she had died when I was born, I only knew my mother by the absence of her presence, the hole she had left behind when she'd died. But for my dad, this was the love of his life brought back after fifteen years of grief and loss. He came back in with a rolling suitcase and a shoulder bag that contained a laptop. He handed me the bag, and said, "Fiona, help me take this stuff to the bedroom. Annette, help yourself to some pizza, we'll be right back." "Sure, Mark," my mom said, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Once she had turned away, my dad steered me towards the master bedroom. "Best plug that laptop in," he said, and put the suitcase on the bed. Once I had done that, I turned back to find him shaking as he tried to put her stuff away. I went up and hugged him. "It's gonna be okay, Dad." "Did you know she was alive?" "No, Dad. the stuff the goddess gave me is like the net, remember? I gotta ask the question before I get the answer. And it never even occurred to me to ask if she was alive." "What am I going to do? Fifteen years of a life together that she remembers that I don't. She's going to think I'm the most forgetful husband in history." Suddenly, I had an idea. I took his hand, and I "asked" about my mom. Memories started flooding in, of her being there as I grew up. Even though I was apparently a "daddy's girl" and a tomboy, in this reality, she'd always been a part of my life. "I'm ... remembering!" my dad said. Somehow I knew he wasn't getting my "memories" of mom, but his own perspective on her presence in our lives. Finally, I let go, and he quickly finished putting away her stuff. Then we headed back towards the kitchen, with his hand on my shoulder. "So what secrets are you sharing with your father now?" My mom said. I looked at my mom, and realized that she was a little jealous of my close relationship with my dad. It wasn't something a normal person would sense, it was pretty hidden, but with my new abilities I could see that she was a little saddened that she and I had not connected the way a mother and daughter should. Most of that, I sensed, had to do with me being such a tomboy she couldn't share with me her love of women's fashions. A thought entered my mind, and then my former male self seemed to say, "You're not thinking of what I think you're thinking of, are you?" I internally answered "I'm a girl now, I've got my mom for the first time in my life, and I can make her happy. You really want me to not do that?" My former self had no answer to that. Aloud, I said, "Mom, actually I was sharing two things with Dad, and I want to share them with you too." "Oh?" she said, while Dad looked at me confused. "One was that I bumped into a boy during a run around the block this morning. I ... found myself hoping I'd ... bump into him again." "Here I was half-expecting you'd tell me you were a lesbian. Not that I wouldn't have loved you anyway." "I know you would have, Mom. The other thing is I was thinking that maybe you and I should spend some time together. Maybe we could ... feminize my wardrobe, a little? With a shopping trip? If you wanted. I mean, I'd understand if you were tired from your trip and wanted to rest instead." 'You're ... serious? You want to find some skirts? With me?" "Yeah, why not. " She gave me a big hug, turned to my dad and said, "Would you mind if we went?" "Fiona has spent the last week with me. She can have some ... mother- daughter time, if she wants it. I'll get some work done around here." "Thanks, sweetie." She went to give him a kiss, and he responded with a much more serious kiss of his own. I blushed, and covered my eyes. "Ahh! Parental affection! Make it stop!" My mom sounded like she was out of breath when she said, "She's got a point, dear. Let's save that ... for later." "I'm wearing headphones to bed tonight," I said, grinning at my dad. "I'll be counting the moments. Now the two of you, shoo." My mom grabbed her purse, and walked me to the car. "Where should we go, mom?" I asked. "Where else but West Edmonton mall?" she answered. I thought about that huge mall, and started having second thoughts ... **** Chapter 7 I sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window. Had I really asked my mother if she'd take me shopping for feminine clothes? It sounded so unreal - "I've just been transformed into a girl, I shall immediately start wearing the most feminine outfits imaginable." Who would willingly do that? And yet I could see the mall getting closer and closer. I had been relieved when the goddess had told me this girl I had become was a tomboy. Tottering around in heels and hose, having to worry about people seeing my panties if I sat wrong, slapping make-up on my face, or basically trying to be a life-sized Barbie doll didn't appeal to me at all. And still we got closer to the mall. Then I sneaked a peek at my mom, and I remembered why I was doing this. I could feel that despite the deeply hidden pain that she had never been able to share the joys of femininity with me, but according to my new memories, she had never let that pain show. She hadn't tried to push me or manipulate me or do some passive-aggressive crap at me to try and make me more girly. She had simply accepted I was a rough-and- tumble tomboy who loved running, sports, and doing stuff with her dad, and tried her best to be as supportive a mother as she could be. From my perspective, the hole in my life where a mother should have been and been retroactively filled, and I was so grateful I really wanted to do anything I could to make her smile. If that meant I spent a day being girly, I could cope. And to be honest, I was a little curious what I would look like made up. But don't go spreading that one around, okay? We arrived at the mall, and my mom went up to the second level of the parking lot to find a place to park. Then we went into what was once the largest mall in the world ... The place covers several city blocks, and has everything a normal mall has, and a lot of things no normal mall has room for. And probably some things no sane mall would even want ... I honestly didn't know how my mother was going to walk around this place in heels ... I could give a store-by-store, outfit-by-outfit account of what happened at the mall, but honestly, who'd want to listen to that? I tried on clothes, I argued with my mother over fashion, and I came home with a couple of bags worth of stuff, what more would anybody need to know? It wasn't horrible. For one thing, as a person who had needed a cane and then a wheelchair to get around for the last couple of years, just being able to stretch my legs and walk was a delight. Most people take mobility for granted, but I was relishing in the ability to move without aid, and I vowed to myself to not be like them, even as I realized that I probably would . But the best part of the whole deal was my mom. Seeing her smile, watching her laugh, just being with her ... I'm not saying my dad hadn't done his best raising me, but what I experienced was sort of the opposite of the old saying "You don't know what you have until it's gone". For me, it was "You don't know how much you've been missing until you find it. " We went home, I put away my stuff, and we had scrambled eggs for supper (Hey, there's nothing wrong with that!) Then I lived up to my promise to my dad, put on a set of earphones, and put my IPod on shuffle before crawling into bed. Even still, I heard noises coming from my parent's room, and I gathered that my dad was showing my mom just how glad he was to have her home ... Not that I could blame him. I had felt the grief he'd carried because she had died, and in his place, if it had been the love of my life who was dead and then brought back to me, I'm pretty sure I would have had the same response. Still, I fell asleep wondering if I was gonna have a baby brother or sister in nine months or so ... **** Chapter 8 The next morning, I woke up before my parents, and I still had all this energy, I went out for another run, but this time, I didn't bump into any boys. Which I was almost disappointed by ... I made it back home, and I had time to shower and changed into one of the outfits I had actually asked for that Mom bought yesterday - a pair of casual sweat pants and a matching t-shirt. I had briefly considered a skirt, but I decided I just wasn't ready for that just yet ... I considered wearing a pair of "mules" which actually were a pair of shoes with open toes and open back end, then changed my mind and put on some socks and a pair of runners. I went back to the kitchen, and decided to make pancakes. I got the mix and a bowl out of the cupboard, and then realized I was again doing something for the first time that most people take for granted. I smiled with gratitude as I prepared the pancakes. I had just finished making the mix when my parents came into the kitchen. I held out the bowl of batter and said, "Here. You both might need to re-fuel after having so much ... exercise last night." My parents both blushed, although I think my dad blushed harder. Then he grabbed the bowl, and said, "Here. Let me cook the pancakes while you set the table." I thought about complaining that I was practically an adult and more than capable of making pancakes, but then I realized that he was used to having to do just about everything for me, and so I cut him a break and let go of the bowl, saying "Only if you make a couple of funny shaped ones." He smiled, and I was sure he was remembering the same thing I was, of when I was a kid, and him making all kinds of silly shaped pancakes to make me giggle. He had done stuff like that a lot, trying to give me stuff to hold on to when my illness got me down. I set the table, he made silly-shaped pancakes, and my mom laughed at us both when it came time to eat them. After we ate, Mom asked, "So what's the plan for today, Fiona?" Dad answered for me, saying, "I was hoping to take Fiona to a baseball game, if you didn't mind me borrowing her for the day." I looked at my dad, and he mouthed the words "Play along." "That sounds nice. I have some paperwork I need to do for work anyway." Mom said, apparently not noticing our little pantomime. "Fiona, grab a hat if we're gonna be out in the sun, and I'll put some sunscreen in a bag." Dad said. Shrugging I went and grabbed a ballcap out of the front closet, went and gave Mom a kiss, and then waited by the door for Dad, who arrived a few moments later with a bag that held sunscreen and bug repellant. He went over, kissed Mom so deeply I coughed so they would part. He blushed, then put his arm on my back and escorted me to the car. Once we were on the road, I asked, "Okay, Dad. What's up?" "I wanted to make sure we were on the same page when it came to your mom." "If you mean we shouldn't tell her I used to be a dying boy, she had died giving birth to me, and we both got a second chance by a goddess? Then I agree completely." "I figured you'd say that. I actually want to make the argument we should tell her." "Say what now?" "Look. I was able to ... distract her last night ..." "Oh, is that what you were doing last night? Because I thought you were .." "Don't finish that sentence. My point is sooner or later one of us will say or do something that seems so strange to her, she'll demand an explanation, and I really don't really want to lie to her." I thought about that for a while. "Say that I agree you have a point. How would you have us do that? She'll think we're both nuts." "Well, I was thinking about how you gave me the memories of her I would have had in this reality. Could you do the opposite for her? Show her the old reality?" I thought about that. "I ... I think I could, Dad. Are you sure that's a good idea?" "Better than trying to keep the truth from her, and have her be angry when she finds out." "You've got a point. Okay, so how do we do this?" "Tonight, after supper, I'll try and prep her. She probably wont believe me, and that's when you come in and give her the memories." "Okay, Dad. Now, can we go to the ball game for real?" He smiled, and we drove on to the ballpark. It wasn't my first time at the ballpark. I had been there a couple of times before with Dad, but in those days we needed seats in the wheelchair section. Now, we got the best seats we could, along with a couple of hot dogs and pops each, and settled in to watch the game. I also got a program so I'd know the players, since at this level of baseball they're a long way from the major leaguers I occasionally watched on TV. In the program they also had a stat sheet so if you were the right sort of person, you could keep track of the hits, runs, errors, walks, and outs each player had during the game. It probably sounds super-geeky, but when I was a boy (and sick), keeping score was one of the few things I COULD do, and I decided that this was one thing I'd bring over from my male life. Not sure what anybody would have thought to see a pretty girl keeping score with a serious expression on her face, but whatever they thought was their problem, not mine. Once the game was over, Dad and I climbed back into the car and headed for home, and what was going to happen when we got there had me worried ... ******* Chapter 9 We arrived back home, came in and greeted my mom who was in the kitchen making homemade taco salad. I looked at what she was making and "asked" a question of the memories the goddess had given me. The answer was, 'Yes. Mom had started making stuff like this to try and encourage me to eat more greens.' I tried to not show how nervous I was during dinner, but I think I breathed a sigh of relief when we'd finished and put our dishes into the dishwasher. Then Dad said to Mom, "Hon, Can I ... talk to you ... in private?" I said, "I'll go watch some TV ... with the volume loud." My mother blushed, then said, "Behave, Fiona." I went into the living room and pretended to be interested in what was on television for what felt like an hour before I heard Mom's voice calling me, "Fiona? Would you come in here?" I went into my parent's bedroom, and saw Dad sitting on the bed while Mom was standing in front of him. Then she said, "Fiona, your father has told me a ... remarkable story, and says you can corroborate it for him." "Well, Mom, it might be easier if I showed you." Then I took her hand, and focused on sharing my old memories with her. She glowed, then gasped, "I ... I was dead? But I remember ... And you were a boy, who was dying? It just seems so ..." "Unbelievable? But its true, Mom. Now you understand why we were both so happy to see you come home yesterday." "Yes. I see it. You really met a goddess?" "I really did, Mom. And if she was still with us, I'd give her a big thank-you hug for bringing you back to us." "So would I," Dad added. Mom grabbed us both, and then we were hugging each other and crying, even Dad. Hugging her was kinda neat, because I was now slightly taller than her, although slightly shorter than Dad. Which meant I fit just perfectly between them during our three-way hug. After a while, Mom broke the hug and asked, "So what happens now?" "I think I live my life. Go to a real high school. Maybe even have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Use the gift of healing the goddess gave me where I can. And never stop being grateful to be alive." "Even if you have to be a girl?" Mom asked. "Its not so bad. I have the memories of a girlhood to help me, and honestly, its a big step up from dying before I hit adulthood." "It sure is," Dad agreed. That comment got him a hug from both Mom and me. I had been a little worried about how Dad would feel about me being a girl, but I was reluctant to approach the subject even after I had shared memories with him. Now I was totally sure he could care less about me switching genders, or if I stayed a tomboy or switched to skirts, or anything other than the fact I was healed, healthy, and happy. Then Mom said, "I'm so sorry I pushed you into skirts, Fiona. If I had realized you'd been a boy I would have eased you into any feminine stuff instead of pushing you out into the deep end." "Its okay, Mom. I liked shopping with you, because you're here, and I missed you even though I had never gotten to know you before. Adding some skirts to my closet was a small price to pay for watching you smile. Besides, I AM a girl now, its not like I'm crossdressing if I fem up a bit from time to time." "As long as it is your choice, Fiona. I watched the girls your age at the mall, and darn few of them were in skirts. I suspect that's pretty typical, and if they ever wear skirts or a dress, its for a special occasion, or maybe for church." "Church!" I exclaimed. "I totally forgot tomorrow's Sunday." "You still want to go? Wont it seem weird to praise the Christian God after being healed by a goddess?" Dad asked. I thought about that for a moment, then said, "I think its okay, Dad. I think she wouldn't mind. Its hard to explain, but I just got a ... sense of peace about going, like she approved." "I thought you said she died?" "I thought so, but I'm not an expert on how this works. Can someone as powerful as she obviously was ever be totally gone? And even if she is, maybe she left me that message, the way she gave me my new memories. I know for sure she wanted me to know ... she loved me." "She's not alone in that," Mom said. "Anyway, if its okay with you two, I'd like to go." Mom and Dad both nodded, and we hugged again. After a while I let go, and said, "I should go to bed early, so I can get up in time to look my best for church." "As in you'll wear that one dress I talked you into?" Mom said. "Yes, mother. I will be a good girl, and wear a dress to church." Mom kissed me on the cheek, and said, "I love you. I would have loved the boy you too, I want you to be sure of that." Then Dad kissed me on the forehead, and said, "I'm very proud of you, Fiona. This is a big step you're taking." "But its a step I probably would have to take eventually. I may not ever wear dresses or skirts often, but I don't want to be afraid to wear them, either." Both Mom and Dad smiled. I squeezed one more hug out of each of them, and then went to my bedroom, where I decided that since I was going to be in a dress tomorrow, I could use tonight as a dry run as it were by wearing a nightgown. I found a nice one in my dresser, put it on, and slipped under the covers, falling asleep within minutes ... ******* Chapter 10 I woke up, and walked over to a mirror that was above my vanity. And was shocked to see that I was once again Mathew, and not Fiona, but still walking. But I was still wearing the nightgown from last night. Before I could process this, Mom came into the room, and said, "Its time for you to put on your dress for church." "But ..." "No buts! You promised, and a promise is a promise." I numbly went over to the dress, and then I was wearing it. We drove to church, but it wasn't the one we'd been going to for the last year, but rather the first church I had ever attended, an old- school style Baptist church. The pastor was there, and he glowered at me, and said, "Boys shouldn't wear dresses. Especially not to church." "A promise is a promise." Mom said, and he let us in. Everyone was staring at me. People laughed behind their hands, or pointed in my direction in disgust. It was torture, but eventually the service ended, and we left the church. I thought we were going home, but then Mom said, "We always go out for brunch on Sundays." "Can't I change first?" I whined. "A promise is a promise." she said, and we drove to a buffet place. We went in, and once again everyone snickered or pointed at me, or jumped away when I came too close like I had a disease they could catch. We ate, then Mom said, "Time for you to go to your new school." "Like this?" I cried. "A promise is a promise." So I went to my new school still in my dress. When we got there, the principal said, "We don't normally let sissy boys wear dresses to school." "A promise is a promise." Mom replied. He let us in. Everyone, even the teachers, called me a sissy. Then I saw Andrew Parker, the boy I had bumped into jogging. He came up to me, and said, "You had me fooled. I thought you were a real girl, not a sissy. To think I had actually considered asking you out on a date. I even thought about kissing you, yuck!" I tried to explain, "But ... it's not my fault." "Whatever, sissy. Just go away, and stay away," he said, and walked away. Then I realized I had to pee, so I went to the girls washroom, only to be met by a group of girls who said, "Perverted boys in dresses can't use the girl's room." The some boys came out of the boy's room next door, and said, "Well, sissies aren't welcome in the boys room either." I turned, and there was a teacher, and I said, "Please, I just want to pee. But the girls won't let me use the girl's room, and the boys won't let me use the boy's room." "Not our problem. Go outside and pee, sissy freak." Then the boys and girls surrounded me and chanted "Sissy freak! Sissy freak!" I got away from them, then I tried to take off the dress, but I couldn't. It seemed to be stuck on me. Then out of nowhere my mom appeared, and I begged her, "Please, help me take this dress off. I can't wear a dress ever again!" "You cant take it off. It's part of you now. You promised, and a promise is a promise." "Nooo!" "Fiona! Fiona! Wake up!" I opened my eyes, and there was mom and dad in my bedroom, shaking me. I tried to speak, and croaked out a, "What ..." "You were having a nightmare, sweetie." Mom said. "A nightmare?" "That's all it was, hon. You're safe," Dad added. I started weeping, and they both held me until I could stop. Finally, Dad said, "Come on. I'll make you some warm milk, then you can go back to sleep for a couple of hours at least." "What about church?" I asked, blearily. "Its only four in the morning, hon," Mom said as she steered me towards the kitchen. I tried to digest that information while waiting for Dad to give me the warm milk. When he gave me the cup, I realized he'd added a little chocolate sauce to the milk, and I smiled. "Just like when I was little. Thanks, Dad," I said. He smiled, and sat down beside me, and Mom sat on the other side. Both of them waited until I had finished the milk in silence, Dad with a hand on my knee and mom with a hand on my back. Finally, I finished the milk, and sighed. "Okay. You want to talk about it, Fiona?" Dad asked, gently. "Not really, Dad, but I think I have to," I responded. "Its always better out than in, sweetie," Mom said. I sighed again, and recounted the dream to them, fighting back tears as I spoke. "I was a boy again, but I had to wear dresses 'cause I promised, and everyone called me a sissy freak and ..." "It was all just a dream, sweetie. You're not a sissy or a freak. You might have been a boy, but you're a girl now." Dad said. "That's right, dear. And boy or girl, we'd never ask you to do anything that would get you hurt, no matter what promise you'd made. You're our child, it's our job to keep you safe." Mom agreed. "Thanks. I guess this gender change hit me harder than I thought." "And I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it finally hit you how much you've changed," Dad said. "But the good news is that you now know you were having a problem, and can work on it," Mom said. "I suppose." "You can wear pants to church tomorrow, hon. We'll save the dress for another time." Mom offered. "No." I said, "I think I have to do this. I was fine at the mall, but maybe it really hadn't sunk in yet. But I have to do it, or I'll have it hanging over me until I do." "I think you're right, hon," Dad said. "Now, why don't try and get some more sleep." Mom instructed, taking me back to bed. I hugged them both, and said, "Sorry I woke you two." "Nothing to be sorry over. Just a bad dream, they happen," Dad said, and then the two of them left my room once I had crawled back into bed. I sighed, forced myself to relax, and within a minute I was back asleep ... **** Chapter 11 Several hours later, my alarm woke me, and I ran to the washroom to take a quick shower, being careful to keep my hair from getting wet. Then I went to my room, and pulled out the dress out of my closet. It seemed rather cute for something that had caused so much trouble ... I heard a knock at my door, and then Mom's voice asking, "Can I come in?" "Sure." She came in, sat on my bed, and said, "You sure you're okay with doing this, sweetie? Its not too late to change your mind." "I think I have to, mom. I cant spend the rest of my life being afraid of dresses." I took a deep breath, and slipped into the dress. Mom came behind me and started zippering me up while steering me toward the mirror. I looked ... "Oh ... wow," I managed. "Oh wow, indeed. You're beautiful, Fiona." Its probably stupid to think a pretty girl looks better in a dress, but I really had trouble disagreeing with my mom ... With my mom at my side, I came out of my room to find my dad waiting for us in the kitchen. "Holy cats, Fiona!" he exclaimed. "I pass muster, then?" I said, coming up to give him a hug. "I'd say so. I think I need to invest in some serious firepower to keep the boys off you." "Some of the girls too," my mom added with a smile. My dad put his fingers in his ears and said, "La la la, I'm not listening ..." Both Mom and I giggled. We had a breakfast of toast, cereal, and orange juice, then I put on heels for the second time in my life (the first was when Mom had bought them for me the other day), and then we piled into Dad's car and took off for church. Rather than the church of my childhood (and of my nightmare last night), we went downtown to a church called McDougal United. The building itself is a historical landmark, one of the oldest buildings in Edmonton still in use, but the friendly, open, and relaxed atmosphere the congregation projected is what drew my dad to bring us here a year and a half ago. Normally its an older gentleman who gave out programs and welcomed us at the door, but today there was a much younger man who I suddenly realized I had seen before ... "Andrew?" I said. "Hey, nice to meet you again. Fiona, wasn't it? Wow ... you look good." A flock of butterflies decided to pick that moment to take off inside my stomach, and you could probably read a book by the blush I was producing. I thought he'd looked good in sweats, but in a suit ... oh, boy ... Just then my mom came up and said, "Fiona, you should introduce us to this young man." "Oh. Right. Mom, Dad, this is Andrew. I kinda ran him over jogging." Andrew smiled, and shook my mom's hand. Then he went to my dad, and went, "I know you! You're Mark D'Arcy! Man, I'm a big fan of yours!" My dad, who I suspect had been practicing his "touch my daughter and I'll plant you" look, actually blushed a little and shook Andrew's hand. Something about this moment pricked my new memories, so I searched them, and it turned out that in this reality, dad hadn't quit football to look after me, but had played for another ten years, ending his on- field career as one of the best Canadian-born players ever. I smiled at my dad, squeezed his hand, and said, "Sorry, Andrew. We better find our seats." "Sure. You guys gonna hang around after for coffee?" "We normally go out for brunch after service," Dad said. "Too bad. I was hoping I'd get to know you, Fiona." I blushed again, and said, "We'll see each other again, I'm sure." "I'm sure you will too." My mom said, "But let's go sit down, the service is about to start." What followed was a pretty normal Christian service. It was Communion Sunday, so besides the normal songs and lesson from the pastor we also got to go up and take a small piece of bread, dip it into wine, and then eat it. Once the service was over, a man came up to the microphone and said, "Don't forget there's a meeting of the affirm group downstairs today, and we'll be providing lunch for those who come." "Affirm group?" Mom asked. "Its the outreach group to gays, lesbians, transgender, and anybody else who normally feels unwelcome in church," Dad replied. "Can we stay, please? In a way, I'm kinda got some gender issues to deal with." "Okay, Fiona. We'll stay," Mom said. We went downstairs and found the room where the group was having its meeting. They offered us sandwiches and juice, and then they had an interesting lecture on the strange near-tolerance of lesbians in Germany in the years just before the Nazis came to power. I'm absolutely sure it was an informative speech, I just couldn't focus on in because Andrew was there. Once the talk was over, I managed to give Andrew my phone number while trying really hard to ignore the fact that my parents were watching. Then we said probably the world's most awkward goodbye in history before I went back over to my folks, blushing. "Sorry," I managed. "Our little girl is growing up fast," Mom said with a smile. "Maybe a little too fast for me. I was just getting used to the girl part." Dad said, but then he added, "That said, Andrew seems like a nice boy, and you have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie." I wiped a tear from my eye, then took both of them by the hand to lead them back to the car. We'd strapped ourselves in when Mom looked back at me from the front passenger seat, and said, "By the way, Fiona. I got a chance to speak to Andrew's mother, and you might be interested to know he's going to be a senior at J. Percy Page this year." "We're ... gonna be going to the same school?" I stammered. "Oh boy," Dad and I said at the same time ... ***** Chapter 12 The next week, my dad kept me busy by taking me to every tacky tourist destination in or around Edmonton. We walked around a re-creation of the original Fort Edmonton, we strolled past animatronic dinosaurs in an artificial Jurassic zoo (honest), and we ambled among amazing flowers inside a glass pyramid (again, honest). He even took me to a restaurant called Mavericks that served the best cinnamon bun