He didn't know what to do. He really wanted to try on the dress, but hefelt a little bit scared. Now that he knew that his mom was alreadyawake he didn't felt secure and free anymore. Then he realized with fearthat he had forgotten to take out his laundry basket and that his motherwould undoubtedly search it on the room and notice that he wasn't there,and there would be no excuse for him to be on his sister's room. Hequickly changed back to his pajamas, while he was still wearing thetraining bra and the panties and quickly ran back to his room.Charlie felt strange. He had done something that some days ago seemedimpossible, something that in his mind was bad, he was a boy, heshouldn't be thinking of wearing girl's clothing. But now he wasn't justthinking of doing that, he was actually doing it. And... he didn't feelguilty or bad. He was, actually, very happy. He smiled as he rememberedthe way he looked with his sister's clothes. Although they were too bigfor him, he really liked the. "Now that's what I call a welcome," he breathed. "Oh, Suzanne, it's so good to see you."She wiped the tears from her eyes, and kept one arm around his waist while he shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte. He looked around."Mother and Dad didn't come?" he asked disappointedly."No, afraid not, Sam," said Mr. Delacorte, "Your father's in Chicago on business, and your mother wasn't feeling well. Nothing serious, just a touch of the flu." Oh, well, you're here," Sam said, looking at Suzanne. "That's all that really matters."They walked back through the terminal and collected his two suitcases, and in ten minutes were driving back down the expressway towards Detroit, Sam sitting close to Suzanne in the back seat of the Delacorte Cadillac, while Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte rode up front, both keeping their eyes tactfully on the road, conscious that the two young people in the back would much rather be alone. Suzanne snuggled close, her one hand on the inside of Sam's thigh; his arm was around.
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