Chapter 1

Tiffany Waxler sat on the couch in her den with her best friend seated next to her. The room was small, but Tiffany always told everyone it was cozy and intimate. Anything to mask her true feelings about her disappointed life. When she had married Jock Waxler in college, their future was bright. A star football player with great professional prospects, she had entrapped him into marriage by getting pregnant. She hadn’t wanted to chance another woman grabbing him once he had a contract worth millions. But an injury in a bowl game in his senior year ended his career and crushed her dreams. She was stuck with a baby and a husband who couldn’t provide for the lifestyle she craved. After Tiffany had relentlessly badgered and belittled Jock, he joined the Navy to escape her. It was only supposed to be temporary, but he liked it and decided to stay in for life. The only good thing about that for Tiffany was that Jock was out to sea most of the time so she didn’t have to be near the man she despised.

Although Carol Munsk was sitting next to her, Tiffany’s attention was not on her best friend. It was on the woman sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the low table. Lori Strong had recently moved into the neighborhood and Carol had brought her to meet Tiffany.

“What’s with the dresses?” Lori asked Tiffany. “Carol said you asked for us to wear them. I usually wear shorts or jeans, but she was insistent.”

“That’s for my son.”

“What! I put on a dress for your son? How old is he?”

“Fourteen.”

Lori glanced at Carol who was smiling at her. She looked back at Tiffany.

“I don’t understand,” Lori said. “You had me wear a dress for a fourteen-year-old?”

Tiffany smirked. “It’s sort of a joke on my husband. You’ll soon see.”

Lori shrugged and then looked around the den before her eyes settled back on Tiffany. “I like this room. I could cuddle up to a good book in it. What’s your husband do?”

“He’s in the Navy.”

“Really? We’re not near a naval base.”

“He’s out to sea most of the time so it doesn’t matter where I live. I hated living near all those Navy wives. The officers’ wives looked down on me. My husband could have gotten a commission, but he said officers were pansies. It’s better not living near a base.”

“It must be hard for your son to have his father away so much. And hard for your husband. When mine learned I couldn’t have children and give him a son, he divorced me. A son means so much to a man.”

“My husband’s like that, too. He wanted a son and I gave him one. But not the son he wanted.”

Carol snickered.

Lori glanced at Carol before turning back to Tiffany. “What do you mean?”

“Well, my husband is as macho as they come. He was an athlete his entire life and, in the Navy, his idea of fun is to get shore leave, go to a bar or strip club, and get into a drunken brawl. That’s the kind of son he wanted. A tough boy. I didn’t raise my son like that. My Baby-boy is nothing like his father. I think that’s why Jock, my husband, comes home so infrequently. He gets sick to his stomach whenever he sees his son, and that’s the way I like it.”

“How can any man not love his son?”

“You’ll see. Would you like a drink? Water, soft drink, something stronger?”

“Water would be nice.”

“Carol?”

“A water.”

Tiffany stood up from the couch and walked to the open door. She leaned out of the den and shouted, “Baby-boy, bring us three bottles of water.”

When Tiffany returned to the couch, a rather surprised Lori asked, “You call your son Baby-boy? I thought before you were referring to him affectionately as your baby boy.”

“His name is Peter, but I got into the habit of calling him Baby-boy when he was little. It sort of stuck.”

“And your husband doesn’t mind?”

“He’s never here.”

“But doesn’t your son talk to him on the phone or internet?”

“Not much. And he wouldn’t tell his father about my nickname anyway. He’s a momma’s boy. He wouldn’t tell on me.”

Lori was about to say something when Peter Waxler, better known as Baby-boy in that house, rushed into the den. Her open mouth snapped shut when she saw him. Baby-boy was no more than 5’4” tall, and to say he was slight would be an understatement. His chest was sunken and his arms and legs lacked muscle. Years ago, and the start of every school year since, Tiffany had given their doctor the best blowjob of his life to medically excuse Peter from PE in school. She hadn’t wanted him getting involved in athletics or doing physical activities other boys did. But it was his attire that had shocked Lori. Baby-boy wore lululemon low-rise shorts. Not what a boy would wear. They were bright red and very short. His pink top had spaghetti straps and was so short that it would have left his midriff exposed even if the shorts hadn’t been low-rise and sitting on his hips well below his waist. His thick brown hair came to his shoulders, but was tied into two little pigtails that stuck out from the sides of his head like feather dusters. Baby-boy’s bare feet made no noise as he padded into the den cradling three bottles of water in his skinny arms, hugging them to his chest.

Lori gawked as he walked up to her and handed her one of the cold bottles. Her eyes were locked on him as he then gave one to Carol and the third to his mother.

“Lori, this is Baby-boy,” Tiffany said. “Honey, this is Miss Strong. She’s new to the neighborhood and I hope will be a good friend like Mrs. Munsk. Sit with us in case we need something else.”

Baby-boy didn’t take the vacant chair next to Lori as the still astonished woman had expected. He sat on the floor to the side of his mother’s legs with his back against the couch. Lori was lost for words. She stared at the boy who was dressed like a girl. Not just a girl. A girl trying to be sexy. Tiffany and Carol waited.

After a strained silence, Lori asked in almost a whisper, “Is he, um...?”

“You can say it. No, Baby-boy isn’t gay.”

“B-But the way he looks, the way he’s dressed...”

“I told you, he’s not like his macho father. And I like him dressed like this. It’s cute.”

“Maybe your son should leave while we talk,” Lori said, her eyes uncomfortably darting to the boy.

“Call him Baby-boy. And you can say anything while he’s here. I won’t be offended, and Baby-boy surely won’t.”

“I, um, think you’re wrong,” Lori said. “As his mother, I think you don’t see things.”

“So you think Baby-boy likes boys and not girls?” Tiffany asked.

“I think so.”

“Then why is he trying to see up your dress?”

“What!” Lori snapped her knees together and glared at Baby-boy. “He wasn’t!”

Tiffany chuckled. “Now you know why I told you to wear a dress. It’s a reward for Baby-boy for being a good momma’s boy.”

“Oh my god, what did he see?”

“Ask him.”

Lori’s cheeks reddened. “Let’s forget it.”

Tiffany patted Baby-boy’s head. “Tell Miss Strong what you saw.”