“One thing I need to tell you,” Phoebe says as you both step outside of the SUV outside a building with “Anastasia’s” in bold pink neon above the doorway, “Anastasia and her ‘partner’ Dixie-they're a little weird.” See you stare back at her the goth goes on, “Even for New Lesbos. They were a gay male couple before coming here; Dixie was actually a drag queen. I just thought you should know.”
You walk in and it looks like any women’s beauty salon you’ve ever seen: women sitting styling chairs getting their hair cut, shampooed or styled, or at dryer chair reading magazines and chatting with each other or beauticians milling about.
Two women in particular walk up to you and Phoebe. The taller one, with short blond hair done in slicked up bangs and wearing a pant suit examines you like a lump of unmolded clay. “So Phoebe, this is the new girl you booked us for,” she says with a lisp in her voice you only heard from the handful of gay men you came across. “I must say, you do carry of the frumpy baggy sweats and mesy ponytail style better than most, but it’s really not the best look for you.”
The shorter woman has puffy red hair, an over the top dress and garish makeup that would make you at first take her for a drag queen-except for the fact that she is very visibly pregnant.
She’s also looking at you with THAT look. “My, my, you are a pretty one,” she says with her voice in an exagerrated southern drawl. “When you were a guy, did ya’ll ever do it with a pregnant gal?” Her hand closes towards your butt.
“Dixie!” the other woman, who you assume to be Anastasia, snaps and bats her hand. “Remember, this is our client.” She turns and looks at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, but she gets like this late in pregnancy. It’ll be our third daughter, and her second time giving birth.”
“Second time-you mean you take turns?”
Anastasia nods. “Indeed. When we came here and learned this town’s-secret, we both made deposits at the sperm bank, so we would each father each other’s children. She had our first little girl, I had our second, and now she’s having our third.”
You mind struggles to wrap around the weirdness of it all. “Excuse me but-,”
“Oh, we’ve got no time for that,” says Anatasia. “You’ve got a special appointment, baby doll, and you better keep it.”
*******
After leading you to a changing room, Phoebe helps you out of your sweats, sports bra and boxers and gives you a silky lace bra and matching panties. You slide into the panties, and with Phoebe’s help strap the bra behind your back, then put on the silken robe hanging from a nearby hook.
Barefoot, you let Phoebe guide you to a rather secluded room in the building where Anastasia and Dixie are waiting; sitting in front of a wall mirror is a single spa chair and sink.
“Dixie and I will be giving you your makeover, sweetie,” Anastasis says. “Don’t worry, we’re professionals.”
“They sure are,” Phoebe nods. “Anyway, I promised the others I’d buy groceries today, so I might as well get going.”
And with that she exits the room.
“Okay, girlie, time to take this out.” As you sit down in the chair, Dixie places a cutting cape over you and pulls the scrunchie from your hair, letting the ponytail fall loose. “Anastasia’s gonna cut and wash your hair while I do your nails.” You say nothing but simply close your eyes while the two do their work.
It starts out familiar enough, with your hair being cut shorter and having the nape of your neck shaved-although Dixie applying a nail file to your fingernails is a new one. Then you lay back and have your hair shampooed, rinsed, some strange smelling liquid applied, and curling rollers put in. When that’s done, you feel a strange cap put over your head.
“My grandma’s old hairdryer,” Dixie explains. “I use it for occasions such as this.
After you hear a switch turned on and a low humming sound feels your ears, you barely hear the two beauticians. You do, however, feel makeup brushes tickle your face and Dixie applied what must be polish to your nails. Then you feel her separate your toes with cotton balls and know she’s giving you a pedicure as well.
It’s a very strange and new feeling you are having. And truth to tell, you’re actually enjoying it.
Finally a brush applies something creamy and fruity tasting to your lips. “Rub them together,” Anastasia says. You do, and you hear the hairdryer being turned off.
“Okay,” Anastasia says as she removes the dryer cap and takes out the curlers, “Have a look at the new and greatly improved you.”
She swivels the chair to face the mirror, and removes the styling cape. You open your eyes and are stunned, speechless at the beautiful sight staring back at you.
Your hair has been cut to just past your shoulders; it’s former wheat color now dyed a bright auburn with blonde highlights and ending with soft shiny curls. Your eyelashes are long and luscious, brightly outlined and your eyelids are shaded light green. Your cheeks are rouged a soft red and your lips a brighter red and sharply outlined.
You look at your hands and feet; they are well manicured and pedicured and polished the same red as your lips.
Three days ago, if you had seen this woman walking down the street or in a bar or club you would have tried to chat her up, flirt a little, or even ask her out.
But you are her.
“We’re done, I see.” You turn and see Phoebe come into the room, carrying one of your shopping bags. “C’mon Brianna, let’s get you dressed up.”
You and your housemate walk back to the dressing room. Taking off your robe, Phoebe helps you into a pair of pantyhose, then into a knee length cotton floral print dress. Then she slides a pair of flat heeled pumps on onto your feet, attaches a pair of clip-on earrings to your earlobes, and clasps a necklace with a Venus of Walldorf pendant around your neck. “I think this will be perfect for what we’ve got planned tonight,” Phoebe says. “Halfway between casual and formal-perfect for your first night out as a woman.”
The two of you walk out to the lobby and all the stylists and customers clap their hands at the sight of you; a few send lustful looks and whistle. Instead of creeped out as you would have before you feel flattered, even proud of the way they’re eyeing your bosom or your wiggling fanny. Maybe your getting used to it.
Or maybe it’s your new female vanity.
You thank Anastasia and Dixie as you pay them, then walk back to the SUV with Phoebe. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?” you ask.
“We’re going to the Aegean-it's this Greco-Italian restaurant-then to see that new Demi Lavato Jack Black movie. That’s the only kind of theater we have in town; any live theater could only do all female cast plays in New Lesbos.”
As the vehicle starts up, you think again of Maddie. Sometime you are going to have to get alone with her and tell...
*****
“Maddie?” Amanda asks. Work had just finished, and they got into Amanda’s Prius to drive home. “Maddie, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Maddie says as she holds her head and sighs. “This afternoon I started to have dizzy spells. I threw up after lunch, then did so again just before quitting time. I think there must be some flu bug going around.
Sam and Amanda look at each other. They both know there’s no flu bug. Finally, Sam says, “Maddie. I think we are going to have to make a stop at the drugstore.....”