Standing Up to Life

Chapter 19:

I decided to lay down and read a book on my bed for a bit. I must have fallen asleep because Mom woke me up for dinner that night. After dinner was cleared away Mom served up some bowls of ice cream and we started enjoying it.

"Brandon, your mom and I have something that we need to talk to you about." Dad said.

"Okay. What?" I figured it was going to be something with the trip to Florida.

"Well... We've been noticing something as this year has gone on." Dad trailed off towards the end.

"It started with you deciding to grow your hair out." Mom said. "You told us that it was because of the rock star thing, and so we decided to just let you do as you wanted."

"Thank you for letting me do that." I said. I was getting nervous; my intuition was telling me something wasn't right.

"But Brandon, then some other things have happened... and I don't want to say we're worried about you... but we are." My dad said.

"Worried about me how?" I asked. Oh crap... I wasn't expecting this today.

"Well... Brandon, what would you say if I told you we had to cut your hair?" My mom asked.

"YOU CAN'T CUT MY HAIR!!!!" I practically screamed.

"Hold it." Mom said before I could storm to my room and hide. "I didn't say we were going to, I asked what you would do if we said you had to cut it. But I guess that was a pretty clear idea of that. Why do you want your hair like this? I don't believe it's because of the rock star idea." Mom asked.

"Umm..." Crap, crap, crap... How do I answer this? I felt a cold sweat come over my body, with all of the color draining from my face, I was sure my heart had stopped.

"Your mom and I have our own theory, and I don't want you to be afraid to tell us. I guarantee no matter what you tell us we'll still love and support you." Dad said gently. Mom nodded.

I sat there for a moment with a blank look on my face... "Because..." I started crying... "I wish... I want... to be..." I couldn't go any farther.

"A girl?" My mom asked gently.

I nodded and the tears just flew out at this point. Both of my parents hugged me and kept saying reassuring things to me. I cried and cried for the better part of an hour before I finally calmed down.

I had heard my parents trying to get my attention somehow and I hadn't been able to focus on anything. I heard, "Tiffany." That brought my attention to my Mom's face.

"Sweetie, do you think you can talk now? Or do you want to wait until tomorrow?" Dad asked.

I didn't know what to do. My parents said they still loved me, but they would never let me keep my hair now would they? What was worse is they would probably never let me go over to Amy's house again. They'd also be taking away my Barbies and doll house of course... would they even keep me? Maybe I could go live with Amy's family...

"Tiffany come back to us." Dad said. He was calling me Tiffany. How did they even know about Tiffany?

I found I was having a hard time trying to even think. Everything just seemed to be spinning around in front of me, and I couldn't control any of it. As soon as I was sure that I must be stuck like this, I felt my hair being stroked and a hand on my chin. I began to make out my dad's face as he said, "Tiffany? Please talk to us sweetie." The look on his face scared me – he looked terrified or something, it was a look I'd never seen on anyone's face before. As I slowly regained my sense, I found that I was now sitting on the floor in the living room. How had I gotten here? I saw that they had moved the coffee table out of the way.

"What?" I managed to ask.

"Sweetie, it's okay. We really still do love you. Here take a drink." Mom said handing me a glass of water. I managed to take a sip and grimaced at the taste through all of the salt from my tears.

I managed to mutter, "Thanks."

"Do you think you're alright to talk a little bit now?" Dad asked.

"I'll try..."

"Look sweetie, why don't you just listen while I tell you what we know and how long we've known, okay?" Mom said. I nodded. "We suspected something about the hair early on, but didn't say anything. On the ski trip Mrs. Hancock noticed some things and told us about them. She didn't know anything for certain, but she thought it was something we should know about."

"On the band trip then, when I found out that you had let the girls play with your hair, but didn't take it all out on the first chance I started looking into things a bit more. Then when Mrs. Hancock found you two playing with Barbies she also decided that there might be something more to it and let me know to keep an eye out for anything else. She also called me one night when you were staying with Amy. She figured out that you two had been playing with your hair again – and it looked like you had been wearing some of Amy's clip-on earrings." How could she possibly have known that?

"We talked on the phone for a long time that night about everything – and after speaking to your dad – we decided to put a test out there to see if we couldn't find out for certain. That's when Mrs. Hancock suggested that you wear Amy's swimsuit. She said you didn't exactly jump to it, but you definitely were trying to look like you weren't jumping to it."

"The final two pieces for us were put in place when you didn't just give the Barbie stuff away, and went along so easily with last night's stuff." Mom finished.

I sat there in stunned silence. Not only had they known for a long time, but they had set me up with opportunities to try being a girl. I had always assumed that Dad would beat me senseless or something. He'd talked so many times against 'queers,' and I figured I fit that description better than anyone. "So you're really not mad at me?" I asked.

"No sweetie, we're not." Dad replied.

"But... you always said..." I stammered.

"Forget what I've always said. I'm not saying I understand any of this, but I do think there is more to this than you just being different." He said gently.

"Look sweetie, we both love you very much... and we can tell that there is something to this for you. We want to take you to see someone on Monday."

"A shrink?" I asked.

"Well, in a manner of speaking yes." Mom said.

"Look, before we can do anything with this, we need a professional opinion. This lady has a lot of experience helping out with things like this... and Mrs. Hancock holds her in really high regard. She's also really nice – we've already met with her a couple times." Dad added.

"You already met with her?" I looked at them incredulously. I sat quietly in shock for several moments before saying "Okay, I'll see her. But, you have to promise me something." I said.

"What?" Dad asked.

"You can't break up my friendship with Amy, you can't take away the stuff in my room, and you won't make me cut my hair if I don't want to."

"We promise." Mom said quickly.

At that point Istarted sobbing some more and I don't really remember anything else from thatnight.

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