His Idol Part 4 (Written Story)

His Idol Part 4

Confidently walking away from mom, as she reluctantly tidies my stuff, I know I’ve got to go back into the kitchen to cook dinner in front of the plumber. All to keep up the appearance that I’m my mother and mom is me.

Adjusting my dress, so it’s as low on my legs as possible, I reenter the kitchen.

The plumber has the washing machine in bits and he quickly throws me a smile as I enter.

“Mine are the same,” He comments, having overheard us talking. Kids….eh?”

Nervously moving past him, trying not to flash too much in my short dress,  I reach into a cupboard.

“Y-yeah….,” I reply, burying my face deep inside, trying to find the pasta sauce.

Thankfully mom had taught me how to make a basic pasta dish. Just one of the many things she’d been teaching me recently!

Grabbing some pasta too, I shuffle past the mess on the floor and stand in front of the stove.

“How old is he?” the plumber questions, scratching his face with his dirty hands.

“Umm….,” I say, acting femininely by flicking my hair. “He’s fourteen.”

Concentrating, he just gives me a nod.

“My eldest is around that age,” he continues to idly chat, as I start preparing dinner.

As the saucepan of water comes to a boil, I start to get very frustrated by the hair that keeps failing in front of my eyes.

“Has he brought any girls back yet?” the plumber asks, making me instantly feel uncomfortable.

I slowly turn to see him looking up at me with a cheeky grin. I awkwardly smile back and answer with a shake of my head.

“I guess he’s still a little young,” the plumber chuckles. “Won’t help that you’re a very attractive mom. I bet all his friends fancy you.”

Turning away, pretending to look at the boiling pasta In the pot, I gulp,

What did he just say to me!?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he continues. “It’s just you’re very young looking for someone who has a teenager. I assume you must have had him young?”

Terrified that he’s on to us, I start to feel my heart beating wildly in my chest.

“I..g-guess so…,” I mutter, feeling the heat of embarrassment wash over my cheeks

Shaking like a leaf, I stir the pot to make it seem everything was normal. I daren’t look back at him!

“Sorry,” he then says, resuming his work on the machine. “I don’t mean to judge.”

At that moment, mom comes strolling in and breaks the tension.

“M..om….!” She playfully whines, strutting over to me with a big grin. “I want a drink. Get me a drink!”

I’d never get away with asking for anything like that!

“H-Hunny,” I uncomfortably mummer, giving her a dirty look. “You know where it all is, go help yourself.”

All most skipping over to the fridge, mom gives me a naughty smile.

“Don’t forget mom…,” she chirps, opening the fridge to pull out a soda. “You said to remind you about cleaning the toilets tonight and taking out the trash!”

Mouth wide open, I watch mom take a sip of her soda and then skip out of the room. As she leaves, she gives me a playful wink.

Oh, I guess I deserve that after making her clean up my mess!

Turning back to look at the stove, I hope to high heaven the plumber doesn’t comment.

“The trash…?” he asks, instantly stopping what he was doing. “That’s a young man's chore around the house.”

Nervously laughing it off, I see out of the corner of my eye, that he’s shaking his head.

“Where’s his father?” he questions.

Instantly feeling sweat roll down my face as he asks, I twitch. It’s not a question I like being asked at the best of times, let alone when I’m wearing a dress in front of a complete stranger!

“N-not sure,” I meekly answer. “He’s not around.”

“Oh,” he replies, clearly feeling he’s overstepped the mark.

For a moment or two, the plumber silently works. Then, he unexpectantly downs his tools and stands.

“You wanna call your son back in here….and tell him it’s his job to take out the trash?” he asks, making me almost jump out of my skin with the suggestion.

Fumbling with my words, I don’t answer, I just look at him, feeling like a nervous wreck.

“Go on…,” he continues, giving me a confident look. “I know what boys of that age are like. They need a strong hand. I will back you up if he kicks off….ok!”

Now staring at him as he urges me on, I knew this wasn’t going to go down well!

Brushing the hair from my face, I call out. “PAUL….?”

No answer or movement from the other room. I look at the plumber and shrug. He continues egging me on.

“PAUL…!?” I say again, praying mom will answer to my name.

Moments later, mom stumbles in and gives me a curious look.

“Y-yeah…?” she asks.

Walking up beside me, mom leans in toward me

“Is everything ok…?” she asks, clearly still thinking like a mother.

“No,” I sternly answer, putting my hands on my hips.

Watching her face turn sour as she hears my tone of voice, I instantly regret my decision. I wanted to stop, but the pressure of the man behind me was too great.

“No…?” mom says, looking at me with a mixture of frustration and confusion.

“Young man!” I gripe, copying times she’s done this to me. “You need to help your mother around the house. Take out the trash for me or you are grounded!”

Mom stares at me in disbelief. I try to hold my nerve and glare back.

“Go on son,” the plumber speaks, backing me up. “Your poor mothers out here cooking dinner for you. It’s the least you can do! Plus, she’ll ruin her lovely dress if you don’t.”

Mom peers around me and gives the plumber a dirty look.

I could tell our little charade was wearing thin on her. She didn’t look impressed at all.

“Fine,” mom answers, giving me a wide-eyed stare.

As mom stamps out of the back door, I knew she wasn’t going to let that go easy. I felt really nasty commanding her like that, but I guess it keeps my secret safe for now.

“Nicely done,” he cheers, kneeling back down in front of the washing machine. “Keep it up and maybe he’ll listen to you and get that girly hair all cut off….eh?”

“Y-yeah,” I answer, rubbing at my face. “….Girly hair.”

Concentrating on his work, I rush back over to the stove to see it almost boiling over.

The plumber doesn’t talk much after that, we both just sorta work in silence. That worked for me. I didn’t want to get in any more trouble!

Finishing the dinner, or my failed attempt at it, me and mom sit in the living room in front of the TV with our food in our laps.

Mom had done as I’d asked and had put out the trash, but now she wasn’t speaking to me. I felt really awkward! All I wanted to do was say sorry, but I knew that would blow my cover.

“It’s fixed!” the plumber calls out, joining us in the other room.

Feeling really exposed, I put my dinner down and sharply cross my legs. Feeling like he may have seen a little up my dress, mom nudges me as I fail to answer him.

“Oh…” I answer, standing slowly and pulling down my dress. “Thank you.”

“No worries,” the plumber replies, rubbing his face again, making it dirtier still.

Not knowing what to do next, the two of us just stand awkwardly waiting. I could hear mom behind me wanting to giggle at me for failing to be a responsible adult.

“So….,” the plumber continues, gently rocking back and forward. “I’ve left the invoice for the repairs in the other room. You don’t have to pay me right now.”

“T-thanks…,” I reply, feeling like I want to rush him out the door.

“It’s pretty late…,” he mumbles, looking at his watch. “I should get out of you fine people's hair and get home to my family.”

As he goes back into the kitchen to fetch his tools, mom giggles.

“Paul,” she laughs. “Don’t be so stiff. He hasn’t cottoned on at all!”

Hearing him move into the front hallway, mom points to me to go show him out.

“Thanks again,” I say with too much excitement, standing in the living room doorway, watching him put his shoes on.

Giving me a smile and a wave as he leaves, he shuts the door, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

I honestly can’t believe we got away with it! I thought I was going to get caught for sure!

Wanting to confidently strut into the living room to thank mom for her help, I turn to find her standing directly behind me. She’s got her face super close to mine.

“Nice work,” she says, giving me a smile. “It’s hard to be mad at you when I’m so gosh darn proud of you.”

Knowing she’s clearly still a little miffed, I gently nod my head and wait for the rest.

“Seems you’ve got quite good at being a Woman now,” she continues, placing an arm around my shoulders.

“I g-guess…,” I answer, feeling her push tight against me.

“Maybe your…Actual….mother needs to help you grow this side of yourself?” she continues, pushing to move me back into the living room.

Sensing that she’s pretty annoyed, I start to worry.

“I’m sorry mom!” I blurt out. “I just didn’t want to get caught!”

Letting me go, mom sits on the sofa and picks up her plate.

“Oh…I noticed,” she moans, taking a bite of her food. “At my expense too….”

Bringing my hands together to beg forgiveness, I feel the tears welling behind my eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” I repeat.

Looking up from her food, she sees the tears in my eyes

“Oh gosh…sweety!” she says, worried. “I’m only messing! Don’t get upset”

Instantly standing back up, mom throws her arms around and holds me tight.

I could feel the pent-up anxiety rushing to burst out of me as she makes me feel safe. Burying my head into her shoulder, I let the tears run freely.

“Paul….,” she playfully giggles. “Don’t cry! I was only messing! I am genuinely proud of how you’ve just handled yourself.

She hugs me tighter and I’m unable to stop my emotions from bursting out.

She’s telling me that she’s only messing around and I understood that, but I felt I was crying for another reason. I felt a pure release!

For years I’ve dreamt of being treated like a girl. For years I’d wondered what it must be like! All those nights of feeling like I’m broken on the inside and strange for wanting to wear dresses.

Finally, I know!

At last, I feel like I’ve got some confidence in myself and this body of mine for the first time!

“Hush…,” mom whispers, gently stroking my hair to comfort me.

“I get it….I get it….,” she says softly, allowing me to sob into her arms. “That was a big step for you…huh?”

Looking up at her, I gently smile.

“He saw me as a girl……,” I say with a sniff. “Didn’t he…?”

“He sure did!” mom replies, “You know…. seeing how confident you’ve just been, gives me an idea!”