We spent nearly three days visiting.  Aunt Audrey’s husband had never met me, but mentioned he thought his sister-in-law had a son, not a daughter.   Mom explained that when I was a bit younger, I seemed a lot ‘tom-boyish’ but lately grew out of it.  That everyone thought I was more boy than girl, but that that was over.  “Thank goodness!” Later in our visit, another relative dropped by with her daughter, Nancy.  I’m not sure to this day whose relative it was, but they took lots of pictures with Nancy and me.    We were both dressed like we were going to church but it was just to have these pictures taken.  All I felt at the time was…fear!  After all, Nancy was another girl!  Wouldn’t she know for sure I wasn’t?  Mother had reassured me beforehand, after putting my hair up a bit and putting a cute hat on me, that I looked wonderful!  “Nancy would never have any reason to wonder, believe me.  I imagine she’ll just be anxious to get home and change out of her clothes!”   And she laughed.  “Unlike you!”  I was becoming more confident.  More assured I made the right decisions when Mother and Daddy gave me ample opportunity to decide for myself who I wanted to be.  It seemed from that time on, I wasn’t worried nearly as much.  I guess I started to feel…better about myself?  The drive took us nearly two weeks.  We stopped often, and saw a lot of different things along the way.  Each stop gave me more confidence around other people, even kids my age!  Finally, we drove the last few miles into Portland and pulled off the highway at a service station to fill the tank with gas and for Mother to get some directions.  About 30 minutes later, she pulled up in front of a hotel in the city.  She and I got out

and entered through the lobby and to the front desk.  While she spoke with the person there, I just stared around at the lobby.  I remember it certainly was nice! 

My reverie was disturbed when Mother tapped my shoulder and motioned to go with her.  As we walked back past the front entry door, a man in a uniform was pushing a cart loaded with all our suitcases into the lobby and toward the elevators; another man appeared to be taking our car.  When I pointed this out to Mother, she just smiled and said it was OK…he was just parking it for us.  Really?  That was sure nice of him… 

We followed the man with our suitcases to the elevators, and up several floors.   When we finally got to our room, the bellboy (that’s what I found out he was called later) unlocked the door, and held it open for Mother and me.  I was so amazed at everything that I hardly even noticed he had unloaded our suitcases and was just heading out the door with his cart.  As he left, Mother stopped him and gave him some money.   

When I asked her later if that was payment for the room, she just laughed and commented I still had a great deal to learn about so many things.  “No honey…that was a…well, a tip.  It’s a way to show him we appreciated all his help and courtesy for getting us to our room.”  Later, she explained a lot more about such things to me and how important it was to be courteous to anyone who helps us out like that.  “Remember, a young lady always must show the proper appreciation for assistance like that.”   

To me, our room was amazing!  There were two beds, a clock, a radio, and even a television!  Soon, we were both unpacked and our clothes carefully hung in two closets, and in dresser drawers.  Seeing all of my clothes hung up or neatly put away in drawers for the first time in weeks was a wonderful reminder of how everything in my life had changed.  The dresses and skirts were mine…and I was happy about it!   Realizing we were really in Portland, really gone from our old house and all the people I knew, struck me suddenly.  I was really doing all this!  It wasn’t a dream at all!  It was…real!    

That evening, after a light dinner in the hotel’s restaurant, we took a short walk around, staying close to the hotel so we didn’t get lost.  Portland didn’t seem all that large, really.  There weren’t lots of tall buildings, certainly not like our old home, but it was still a big city, it seemed.  Along the walk, we talked about the move and finding a new house and getting settled in.  It was fun, imagining all kinds of things a nine-year-old might imagine about a new home.   

The evenings getting ready for bed were always kind of fun.  Mother would brush my hair, and we would talk.  To me, it was…well, nice…pleasant!  That evening, she got a card out of her purse and lifted the phone to make a call.  Reading the number to the operator, I sat and watched, wondering what the next day would bring.   She talked to someone on the phone, and from what I heard Mother say, it seemed to be about a house and having breakfast in the hotel.  Finally, it was time to go to bed.

*    *    *    * 

The next morning I woke to the sound of an alarm clock.  First time for that in a long time!  When I asked why so early, she just laughed and reminded me how long it takes to get ready.  Unfortunately, it was true; I was still new at all this.  I enjoyed it…but it did take a lot longer than it used to take me to get ready in the mornings.  Now, I’ve not mentioned this before, but it suddenly came to mind thinking about how much more time it seemed to take getting ready in the mornings.  My hair!  I was surprised how quickly my mind adjusted to long hair when only weeks before it was crew cut!  Oh, I knew it was longer, and it often got in front of my eyes when I bent forward, and sometimes I spent more time moving it out of my face with my hands and…well, it was certainly different.  My brain just adjusted so quickly, but, still, it did require a lot more time in the mornings but it was so much nicer than that…wig!

We went directly to the main restaurant and got a table next to the window.  A few minutes later, a pretty lady walked up to our table and asked Mother’s name.  She reached her hand to Mother and smiled broadly as she introduced herself as Susan Dean, and asked how our trip had been.  Then she turned to me, and smiled a very nice smile.  “And you must Cathy?  Your father certainly talked about how pretty you were, and he was right!  And I love your dress!”  For just a split second, my mind jumped…but I recovered quickly, and smiled back while I thanked her. 

She sat down across from us and, as Mother and she sipped coffee and told us what she had planned for us that day.  She said she would showing us around Portland, but the first stop would obviously be taking us to the house.   It was all news to me, and apparently to Mother as well.  “When you say the house…what house do you mean?”   

She quickly set her coffee cup down and looked at Mother with a surprised look on her face.  “Well…your house!?”  Mother looked at her with a questioning look and slowly set her cup down as well.  “Cathy it seems your father forgot to mention something to us!”   Susan looked at us both and then started to laugh.  “You mean…you didn‘t know?  Oh my…well this will be quite a day then won’t it?”  And they both started to laugh.  

After we finished our breakfast, Susan insisted on paying while Mother and I visited the ladies' room.  That was still kind of scary, even with me getting used to being seen as a girl.  But soon we met Susan at the lobby door and she walked us to her car.  “I’m so anxious for you to see your new house now I can hardly stand it.  I do hope it’s what you were expecting.”   In just a few minutes we were driving along a river and up a slight hill.  She told us the neighborhood was known as Dunthorpe, and although very close to the city it was more rural and quiet.  “And, they have wonderful schools Cathy, I’m sure you’re excited about that.”    

Oh sure….excited… 

She turned off the road and up a beautiful tree-lined street that curved around through several beautiful houses.  Not too far up that road she pulled into a drive and continued up.  As it curved around some huge trees, I saw a house.  “Welcome to your new house ladies…”