Danielle couldn't make out the words, but she recognized the firm, authoritative tone with which Mark was talking to Kevin. It crystallized a lot of what she had been thinking since the initial shock of the change had worn off.
Daniel had modeled himself after his father, a tough, working class immigrant who subscribed to "old country" values about a man's authority in his home. Real men, the young Daniel had learned, didn't cry, didn't show weakness, didn't let their decisions be questioned by women or children. Daniel had lived his life according to the model his father presented, but somehow it had never come as naturally to him as it had to his dad. Maintaining a tough, emotionless facade had always been work--the facade never became reality. Daniel loved the beauty of flowers, but he always remembered when he had pointed out some pretty flowers to his dad, and his dad had hit him in the back of the head and told him not to act like a faggot.
Daniel had never wanted to be a woman--the idea had never occurred to him--but he envied the greater gentleness and emotional range displayed by younger men and gay men he met at his work. But even though his father had died of a heart attack years ago Daniel couldn't stop, couldn't change even when he saw that his wife and kids were afraid of him--the macho man facade had become a habit, a habit he hated but couldn't quit
Until now. Danielle was crying, not over the transformation but over Daniel's pain. The crying itself didn't feel bad, though, it felt wonderful. She looked at her new form in the mirror. "I'm going to be a good wife and loving mother. Take that, dad." she thought.
Danielle smiled at the catgirl in the mirror. "Flowers are pretty." she said.