In Between Codes

Chapter 10

Before continuing with day's lessons, Martha paused and turned to Tamy with a quiet smile. "Wait here a moment," she said, disappearing into her bedroom.

Tamy stood patiently, her hands folded in front of her apron, still unsure what was coming next. When Martha returned, she held a small, elegant box—wrapped in soft tissue paper and tied with a satin ribbon.

"I've been meaning to give you this," she said, handing it to her daughter. "I bought it last weekend, while you and Alison where busy selecting and trying out outfits."

Tamy's eyes lit up as she untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside, was a pair of delicate two-inch heels—sleek, feminine, and just her size.

Her breath caught. "Mommy... they're beautiful."

Martha smiled, her voice tinged with emotion. "When I saw you interacting with your cousin,  still as Tomy. And even though you hadn't told me anything yet—not about wanting to be a girl, or asking me to help you become more feminine. I felt something different about you, something about the way you moved... and talked—it felt so beautifully feminine. I didn't know what it meant at the time, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get the chance to give you these. But, when I saw these heels in the shop I just knew they were perfect for you. I trusted my woman's intuition, and now I'm so glad I did."

Tamy gently lifted the shoes from the box, admiring the soft shimmer of the material and the elegant curve of the heel. 

"They'll be a little tricky at first," Martha said, kneeling to help her daughter slip them on. "But they'll teach you a few things. How to walk in heels—every young lady should know. How to carry yourself with good posture. And most importantly, they'll remind you of the grace you're growing into."

Tamy stood slowly, adjusting to the new height. She wobbled slightly, then steadied herself, her smile growing wider. "I love them," she whispered.

Martha gave her a gentle hug. "I'm glad. Now, let's get started."

Martha gently told Tamy they were going to clean the house—top to bottom. But this wasn't just about chores. It was a lesson. As they moved from room to room, Martha asked Tamy to watch her closely: how she walked, how she held herself, how she bent and reached without revealing too much. Every gesture was intentional, every movement modest and graceful. Tamy's task was to mirror her, and Martha would guide her with gentle corrections when needed.

At first, Tamy felt overwhelmed. The expectations, the precision—it was a lot. But then she reframed it in her mind, like a coding challenge. Each movement was a line of code, each correction an update to her system. She was rewriting her own behavior, debugging old habits, and installing new ones. With that mindset, she absorbed her mommy's advice like a sponge.

Still, theory and practice are worlds apart. Tamy stumbled, hesitated, and sometimes forgot what to do. But she kept trying, and Martha kept encouraging her.

By 11 a.m., they paused to start lunch. Martha, half teasing, told Tamy that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach—and that learning to cook was part of the journey. Together, they began preparing spaghetti Bolognese, the kitchen filling with warmth and the scent of simmering tomatoes.

As the sauce bubbled, Martha turned to Tamy and asked softly, "What do you think about hormone blockers? Would it be okay if I looked into booking an appointment with the doctor?" Tamy, balancing on her heels, setting the table with perfect posture, and trying not to overcook the pasta, barely registered the question. She nodded and said yes without much thought.

Martha smiled quietly to herself.

When lunch was ready, Tamy called for her daddy to join them. As he entered the room, she curtsied—just as her mommy had taught her. He smiled, a little unsure, but Martha's eyes sparkled with pride. Her little princess was blooming.