DJ: Becoming a Woman

On Saturday morning, DJ awoke with a start. She jolted up in bed and it took a minute before she could take in her surroundings. She was in her room, the sunlight filtering in through a slight crack in the drapes. Her pillow was damp beneath her hands, which she used to prop herself up. Her face was wet, too. The dreams were back. She closed her eyes and could picture the vague outline of Pam's face. In her dream it had been so vivid. Part of DJ was relieved that she could still conjure up a picture of her mother by memory, because she'd felt guilty lately; the scent of her mother's favorite perfume that she'd tried so desperately to hang onto was long gone and Pam's voice had become a distant memory. DJ kept a shoebox beneath her bed full of photos of her mother because at least this way, she'd never forget the details that traced Pam's beautiful features. But while that part was relieving, it made her sad to dream of her mother. Sad that her dreams were the only place she could really be with Pam. She thought she'd moved past the dreams; they'd stopped a year ago. But this morning, she felt the strongest yearning for her mother since Pam had passed away nearly two years ago. For some reason, DJ couldn't place exactly why, she felt like she needed her mother today more than ever.

DJ wanted so badly to run down the hall and jump into bed with Danny. But she was twelve now, she couldn't do that to him. Just because she was missing Mom didn't mean her dad had to relive this all over again. Plus, she remembered now, her father was away. He'd left yesterday on a business trip and had taken Joey and lucky baby Michelle with him. She and Stephanie had to stay home because of school.

She tried to shake the memory of the dream away. Under the covers in a bed identical to hers, DJ could make out the tiny frame of her little sister's sleeping body. And of course she could hear Stephanie snoring.

Great, DJ thought. Now I'll never get back to sleep. She rolled her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. As she got up, she was aware of a faint throb in her stomach, enough to distract her a little from the dream. She padded barefoot down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Just as she flipped on the light, something behind her scraped across the floor. DJ whirled around to see a figure she'd missed before. He was dressed in black, hunched over the kitchen counter. She screamed. It shouted.

Finally she made out the features; workout shirt, sweats, and black, tousled hair; it was just Uncle Jesse. She barely recognized him with his hair un-gelled. But who was she to judge? She'd woken up crying.

"Jeez, Deej. You gave me a heart attack. What are you doing up?" It was a valid question, since normally on weekends DJ had been sleeping in until at least ten.

DJ hesitated. Jesse was always good for a talk, but her normally put-together uncle looked a mess this morning. Instead, DJ just shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Steph's snoring again." Her stomach throbbed again and DJ pulled open the freezer. She grabbed a box of frozen waffles and, on second thought, the carton that sat behind it. When she set the ingredients on the counter, Jesse's eyebrows shot up at her.

"Ice cream? For breakfast?"

DJ offered a half-smile. "I won't tell if you won't."

Jesse chuckled, and DJ plopped four waffles into the toaster. When they were done, she served herself and her uncle and they ate in a comfortable silence. DJ practically gobbled down her plate, but when she was done she regretted it. The pain in her stomach had become more persistent, and now her head was beginning to pound, too.

"Woah. I…I don't feel so good," she said.

Uncle Jesse shook his head. "I knew this was a bad idea. Your dad's going to kill me," he muttered.

DJ ran to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet with her head in her hands. It was a strange pain; she didn't feel like she was going to be sick. She just ached. When she went to pull her pants up, though, the panic that seized her was almost enough to make her forget the pain.

Jesse pounded at the bathroom door. "Deej, you okay in there?"

What was the best way to get rid of him? "I'm fine!" No. "Uh, I mean, I'm sick. Really sick. Trust me, whatever you do, don't come in here!" She searched around the bathroom. She needed something to take care of this crisis, but she wasn't exactly an expert at dealing with this kind of situation.

"Sweetheart, if you're really sick I need to—"

"No, Uncle Jesse. I'm fine. Really. All better." She yanked her pants up, flushed, and flung the door open. She plastered a huge smile on her face. "I was just kidding!" She booked it past Jesse and up the stairs, leaving him behind and confused.

Upstairs, DJ pushed open her door and slammed it behind her. She shuffled through the mess on her nightstand until she could get ahold of her phone. She dialed the number of the only person she could think of. Stephanie, now awake, gave her death glares from across the room.

"Some of us are trying to sleep," she said. But DJ didn't have time for her sassy little sister. She let Stephanie sulk out of the room.

Finally, the other line picked up. "Kimmy!" DJ yelled into the phone, before her friend could even say hello. "I need your help."

Jesse had done the dishes he and DJ had used. He wanted to give her some time to calm down, and maybe give himself some time to make sense of this situation. But he couldn't. What had happened from the time they'd sat down together to eat, to the time DJ had freaked out and claimed to feel sick? And how could she miraculously have gotten better? It wasn't like DJ to keep things from him, but she was hiding something.

Something was definitely up with his niece, and he was determined to find out what. He climbed upstairs to find his smaller, curly-haired niece standing with her ear pressed against her bedroom door. He was about to scold Stephanie for snooping, but on the other hand, maybe she had the right idea. It wasn't spying, he told himself, if something could be seriously wrong.

"Oh, hi, Uncle Jesse."

"Shhh." He held a finger to his lips.

Stephanie smiled. "Hi, Uncle Jesse," she repeated in a whisper voice.

He pointed to the room. "What's going on in there?"

Stephanie grimaced. "Kimmy's on the phone, but they're talking too quiet. DJ slammed the door in my face! Can you believe it? Kicked out of my own room!" Stephanie shook her head. "She said they had to talk about 'woman' stuff. Hello, do I look like a boy—"

Jesse held up a hand. "Hold it. What woman stuff?" No. It couldn't be. He was jumping to conclusions.

Stephanie shrugged. "That's all she said."

Apparently growing bored, Stephanie trotted off to play. Jesse stayed by the door. How old was DJ anyway? Twelve. Surely too young for what he'd been considering a moment ago.

"Come on Kimmy, just think for a second. What would you do in this situation?" DJ begged. Kimmy wasn't an expert in this area yet, either, and wasn't proving to be of much help.

Kimmy sighed on the other end of the line. "I guess I'd steal some from my mom's bathroom. Or just tell her. How do I know DJ, I haven't gotten it yet."

"Yeah, well, I can't exactly do that." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "Thanks, Kimmy." DJ hung up, frustrated. She'd exhausted her only hope. Now what was she supposed to do?

DJ had known this moment was coming. Her dad had tried to talk to her about it once, but she'd freaked out. Ever since then, he'd just slipped books under the door and neither one of them would say a word about them. She'd pushed it out of her mind, hoping that if she pretended these things didn't exist, it would never happen to her. It had worked fine, until now.

Now she needed her mom.

If her mom were here, this wouldn't be such a big deal. It might be fun, even. They would hug and celebrate, and everything would be fine.

She couldn't hold it back now; DJ planted her face in her pillow and sobbed.

A gentle hand came to rest on DJ's back and her sobs grew softer. She hadn't even heard the door open. Jesse said nothing, just helped his oldest niece up into a sitting position and then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"I need her," DJ choked out.

Jesse rested his chin on her head. Despite himself, he felt tears come to his own eyes. He didn't have to ask who "her" was. He missed his sister too, every day.

"Me too," he whispered. They were quiet for a moment. "It's okay to miss her. You know, sometimes I still dream about her," Jesse said.

"You do?" DJ looked up at him, and he nodded. "I had a dream about her this morning. It was so weird. I just woke up missing her so much and then I..."

"What, Deej?" Jesse prodded gently.

"Well…never mind."

"Honey, you can tell me anything."

She shook her head. "Not this," she said.

Jesse sighed. "Look, DJ. I know there are things you'd rather talk to your Mom about. I wish I could talk to her, too. But if you need help or if you need someone who's going to talk back, I'm here."

DJ nodded. "Thanks Uncle Jesse, but this is just too embarrassing."

Jesse was beginning to think his earlier hunch was correct. "Does it have anything to do with the 'woman stuff' you and Kimmy were talking about?"

DJ looked into her lap. "Steph," she grumbled. Her face burned red as she looked at Jesse. "You wouldn't understand."

Jesse chuckled. "Deej, look at me." He lifted her chin with his forefinger. "Getting your period is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Yeah, not when you have a mom to help you!" DJ folded her arms across her chest.

"Sweetheart, I know I'm not your mom, and I'm definitely not a woman. But I love you. Hell, I didn't know how to change a diaper before I moved in here with you girls, but now look at me. This is just going to be one of those things we have to figure out together."

DJ considered this carefully and then nodded. "Okay. You're right," she said.

"Of course I am! Hey, in a few years this is going to happen to Steph, and by then we're both going to be experts in the womanhood department."

"Hey, how come she gets off so easy?" DJ grimaced.

"Sorry, Deej, but you're the oldest. That's how it works. You're the woman of the house now." He winked.

"Well, I guess I don't mind the sound of that." DJ smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Jesse."

"Any time, kiddo."

"Uncle Jesse? About what you said earlier…if you ever want to talk to Mom, but you need someone who will talk back, I'm here, too."

Jesse felt tears well in his eyes for the second time; these girls were making him softer by the day. He wrapped his arms around his oldest niece. "Thanks, Deej. Your Mom would be so proud of you."

"Uncle Jesse?"

"Yes?"

"You know how you said we're going to figure this situation out together?"

"I recall."

"Well, can we go figure it out at the drugstore? 'Cause I kinda need some, you know. Stuff."

Jesse laughed, and kissed the top of her head. "All right, kid. Let's go get you some 'stuff.' We'll bring Steph along, just so she gets her fair share of the torture."