Mary Elizabeth hurried back into the house from the garage and up to her office to retrieve the grocery list she had almost left without.
As she approached her office she heard a noise from inside. Entering the room she didn't immediately see anything that could have made the noise. Then she saw that the closet door was ajar.
Mary Elizabeth knew that door was definitely closed when she was in here writing her grocery list earlier, so she moved towards it to investigate. She opened the door further and discovered, there before her was Angelo, rummaging among the feminine attire.
"Angelo," Mary Elizabeth yelled, startling the boy."How many times do I have to tell you I don't want you getting into those girl clothes anymore?"
Angelo thought his foster mother had already left for the market to buy groceries when he snuck into the room. Now he stood there before her, naked, aside from a pair of sheer black pantyhose. He had been in the midst of attempting to fasten a black lace bra on his body when Mary Elizabeth unexpectedly walked in.
Mary Elizabeth stood there waiting for an answer from Angelo, as he stared down at his toes, looking so slim and lovely framed in reinforced nylon.
The action of putting on pantyhose, rolling them down to put on his feet, carefully pulling the hose up each leg, smoothing the nylon material and pulling them up over his rear, was something he thoroughly loved.
Instead of immediately answering his foster mom, Angelo turned away from her and paraded before the mirror, turning as a model would on a runway, smiling.
In the mirror, he could see his thin ankles, neatly turned calves, lovely knees, and slender thighs. His legs were firm but showed none of the muscular masculine characteristics most boys had.
"Oh mommy, I know, but just this once more, please?" he finally answered, pleading.
"No, Angelo, and you know why. I expect Anna to drop by one of these days soon, and she'll probably have a supervisor with her from child protection services. I don't want you to get caught acting all girly. You know they will take you from me if they do. Now take those hose off and get into your boy jeans and tee shirt and running shoes."
Angelo loved his foster mother, and he really didn't like displeasing her, but the fact was, he felt natural and much more comfortable in girl's outfits.
He knew that with his slight frame, longish hair and effeminate mannerisms when he dressed as a boy he looked like a "sissy boy." It often brought him ridicule, while as a girl all he heard was praises for his natural beauty.
"OK, mommy," he said, and Mary Elizabeth headed back out of the room, grocery list in hand.
As soon as he heard his mom exit the front door, he ran to his room and pulled on his tightest pair of boy jeans, the sheer hose still on his legs.
He had decided that if he had to present as a boy, at least he would feel pretty underneath. As he sat on his bed and pull on a pair of socks over the hose, he knew that with every step he took, the jeans rubbing against the sheer hose would send an unmistakably feminine sensation up and down his legs.
*****
Several afternoons later, Angelo sat on the couch, his right leg tucked under his left, holding a book, his fluffy stuffed kitten resting next to him.
This afternoon, just as every afternoon this week, he was once again wearing a pair of sheer pantyhose hidden underneath his jeans and socks.
The book he was engrossed in was the second book in the "Traveling Pants" series.
The book concerned a trio of 15-year-old girls who were quickly growing into young womanhood and learning about life.
Tanya had loaned Angelo the first two books in the series, gushing that she had finished them both, in just four days.
"Oh girl," she told Angelo, "I think one of those characters could be you. Really, when I was reading it, one of them reminded me of you, a lot."
Now on the second book, Angelo truly did find himself identifying with a shy girl in the stories, a character who had yet to have a date and was afraid of boys.
So intense was his concentration on the story that he didn't even hear the doorbell ring until Mary Elizabeth yelled at him.
"Angelo, get that door!"
He was startled by her yelling and that's when he realized the doorbell was ringing. He dropped the book and grabbed his fluffy stuffed animal as he walked to the door.
"Oh, Miss Simms, it's you," Angelo said with astonishment. In his surprise at seeing her, his voice retaining its girlish inflections that he was trying so hard to lose.
"Yes, Angelo, it's me. Can we come in, please?"
Anna Simms, the social worker, was dressed in black slacks, an orange silk top and her black hair pulled back in small ringlet curls. With her was a middle-aged white woman, tall, slender, wearing a grey suit and sporting a severe expression.
"This is Ms. Pentecost," Anna Simms said, introducing to Angelo and Mary Elizabeth, the strange, serious-looking woman accompanying her.
"Nice to meeting you, Ms. Pentecost," commented Mary Elizabeth, realizing full well that Ms. Pentecost was not going to make this a pleasant visit.
"And, I take it this is Angelo, the boy you have charge of, Mrs. Dayton?" Ms. Pentecost asked in a rather loud, coarse voice. Her pronunciation of the word "boy" had a marked, sarcastic tone, indicating her already made conclusion that Angelo was a boy and there was no negotiating that fact.
Angelo recognized the nastiness in the tone, as he sat back on the couch, still holding the stuffed animal against his chest, as a little girl would. He realized this and quickly tried to hide it at his side, but he knew the damage had been done; his effeminate mannerisms had already betrayed him.
The adults in the room were still standing as the Child Welfare Department supervisor began, "Mrs. Dayton. Let me get right to the point here."
Ms. Pentecost, it was obvious, was a no-nonsense, quick- to decide supervisor.
"Yes, Ms. Pentecost, before you go on . . ." Mary Elizabeth interjected, only to be cut short by the foreboding Ms. Pentecost.
"No, Mrs. Dayton, let me finish. I have read the file and have talked with Ms. Simms here. It's obvious you have been a bad influence on this boy. I don't believe you are fit to be a foster parent. Look at what you've done to him, he's hardly a boy anymore."
"But, Ms. Pentecost, Angelo has never been happier in his life," Mary Elizabeth began.
"No, Mrs. Dayton. You have corrupted and confused him. You wanted a girl, and you've tried to make him into that. He wanted nothing more than attention and the love of a mother and you graciously gave him that but only under the conditions you set forth. You show him that if he did what you wanted and pretended to be your daughter, you would give him all the love and attention he sought. That's disgraceful, and I should bring you up on child abuse charges."
Angelo wrapped his arms around himself, drawing his legs up and curling his slender body into the couch, wanting to disappear into the couch and cry so badly. His whole happy world was about to crumble down about him.
"We should never have placed this boy in this house. But, Ms. Simms here was a new worker and didn't see the abnormalities in this household. This is disgraceful. This boy here has become so pathetic, and effeminate and you're at fault, Mrs. Dayton."
Angelo could take it no more. He bounded up from his protective seat on the couch, rushing to the arms of his foster mother, and cuddled his slender frame next to her, as she instinctively held him tight, caressing his shoulder gently.
Angelo began to sob, tears flowing and his cries of anguish bursting forth. Through his sobs, he spoke out.
"I love my new mommy. I love her. She's made me so happy. I'll be a boy if I have to. I'll be a boy, you'll see. Go see my room. It's a boy's room. I'll be the boy you think I should be, just please, don't take me from her."
"Ms. Pentecost, Angelo's had a rough life, and he's truly happy here. Surely you can see that," Ms. Simms spoke up.
"He's been corrupted and confused, Ms. Simms. Can't you see that?" Ms. Pentecost's words were harsh.
Ms. Simms, whose career could very well now be in jeopardy if she continued to protest, retreated.
Angelo, however, suddenly found strength. He released himself from Mary Elizabeth and spoke loudly to the stern supervisor, trying to fight back more tears as he did so.
"Ma'am, momma here didn't do nothing I didn't want her to do. I wanted to be a girl before I ever came here. I feel better as a girl. I want to be a girl and I fought with her to stop trying to make me a boy. She's been nothing but a caring mom with my best interests at heart."
"What do you mean, you 'feel' better as a girl and want to be one'?" Ms. Pentecost demanded. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. You were born a boy. This woman has warped your young, impressionable mind."
"No. No. She's a good mom, I'm telling you. She cares and understands me. She's the best mom I could ever ask for."
Mary Elizabeth interjected. "I've tried hard to stir Angelo here to be a good young man. At the suggestion of Ms. Simms, we fixed up a boy's bedroom for him, bought him normal boy clothes, and even tried to get him interested in some sports. But, you know Ms. Pentecost, he cared for his ailing mother until her death. He's a soft, caring, sweet, kind-hearted, lovely young boy, and he may indeed have a feminine personality."
"I don't buy that," Ms. Pentecost shot back. "That's poppycock for aberrant behavior. He needs a masculine atmosphere and influence in his life."
It was obvious that Ms. Pentecost was not to be argued out of her attitudes. Her rigidity must have been legendary in the department.
Mary Elizabeth tried to explain that Angelo had been accepted into the Arts High School and had a good future ahead of him. She said he had become fast friends with a girl of his age and they enjoyed shopping and doing things together.
Mary Elizabeth pleaded with Ms. Pentecost.
"Angelo was so unhappy in his previous placement with his aunt. He was teased mercilessly, and that's a fate that awaits him once again if he's sent to another home and forced to be something he can't. He's a naturally small and delicate child with a strong feminine personality. Here with me, he can follow his desired tendencies in a safe, loving, supportive environment."
"That's what I'm afraid of, Mrs. Dayton. He'll be allowed to continue to pursue these perversions and keep trying to lead a deceptive feminine life. Deceived and encouraged by you," the supervisor responded. "He needs another placement."
"I'm afraid, Ms. Pentecost, we have no other home available for Angelo right now," Ms. Simms informed her.
"What about the adolescent group home?" Ms. Pentecost suggested. "He'd fit in quite well there. They have a strong physical fitness program, led by a former US Army drill instructor. Buck Spencer will make a man out of this . . . boy."
Again Ms. Pentecost used "boy" in a derisive manner.
Angelo cringed at the thought of such a place. His physical strength was so minimal, his muscular talents so weak, he'd be harassed and bullied by both staff and the other boys alike. He knew he could never make it in competition with other boys, nor did he desire to.
"They're filled up, with a waiting list," Ms. Simms reminded her.
"Well," Ms. Pentecost began, now looking defeated. "I guess, since the boy is not being physically abused, we'll have to let him stay here for the time being, but mark my words, I will find another placement for Angelo, and in that placement he will be raised as a boy properly should, not such a sorry excuse as what I see before me."
Mary Elizabeth started to protest the nasty remarks of the supervisor, but held back, knowing they had received a reprieve, although brief it might be.
Ms. Simms obviously cringed at the words of the CPS supervisor, and as the pair rose to leave, she gave Angelo a gentle wink and a comforting smile.
Mary Elizabeth held Angelo in her arms, and once the two were out the door, she let him cry out loud.
She held him tightly, his face pressed into her bosom, her fingers running through his long, lovely hair which smelled of sweet fruity shampoo.
"My darling, Angela, you're such a sweet girl," she thought. Then out loud, responded, "Angela, my darling, we'll figure out a way to keep you here and make sure you're happy, my dear daughter."
"Oh mommy, why wasn't I born normal, like other boys? Or a normal, physically correct girl. I'm a burden to everyone."
"No, honey, you're a talented marvelous young person, and we'll show that evil Ms. Pentecost just how wrong she is."
Angelo drew away from Mary Elizabeth, looking up at her.
Smiling through tears, he replied, "Yes, mommy, we will."