The night we got home from the storage unit, Treena and I ordered a pizza. She wanted pineapple on it, and I decided I would be a good roomie and support her in her terrible decision.
While we waited for it to arrive, I started to sort through the things I had gotten from storage. Joy appears to have been a bit of an organizational freak, so all of the containers were pretty well sorted by season, occasion and style... there was work clothes, beach clothes, casual clothes... date clothes... all labelled and neat. Except a whole winter in a funky storage unit had left them musty. My project for the week was to properly launder each of them. So much for my immediate boost in wardrobe options.
Treena watched, advising but noting that most of this stuff was over her head. I wouldn't say she's un-fashionable, just that her style and Joy's are clearly not the same. Treena has that whole punky indie girl thrift shop look. She works from home so most of the time she dresses down, in a crusty-looking hooded sweater and shorts, but by now I've also seen her done up to go out, and she really knows how to make herself into a pinup star. Hot. She makes her whole voluptuousness and attitude work for her.
Me, I still look exhausted 24/7, in my ratty tee shirt and pre-made cut-off jean shorts that come up to here on my waist but only go down to there on my thigh (imagine my hand gesturing next to my crotch.)
After I finished my first slice of pizza, I reached for a second and Treena made this... wincing noise. Like, "I wouldn't do that..." I asked what that was about, and she put it bluntly: "Joy isn't the type of person who would go for the second slice. Maybe in an hour or two."
I said, I don't really care what Joy was like, Simon enjoys pizza. She shook her head, "Hey, I'm not the boss here. You can live your life however you want. Believe me, I'm not lecturing anybody on how much pizza to eat." She gestured to her, um, figure. "But if you want those clothes you just spent an hour sorting through to mean anything, you'll think twice."
I looked over. The skinniest jeans, unforgiving tops that reveal belly buttons and other clothes don't handle bulges well. This couldn't be me, my life. I'm not a fat guy but I use all the energy that I take in. Surely Joy was the same way.
"For the record, I'm not into starving myself either," Treena said, "That's how I wound up with all this goodness. And I don't mind it, for myself. And if we ever get Joy back where she belongs, maybe she'll understand if you go up from a size zero to a two or a four. But as a practical concern... tread lightly, you know? Eat light. Chicken, salads... not so much grease and salt."
I scoffed and anger-bit into my pizza anyway. "Ugh. Okay, tomorrow. Tonight, pizza."
After that, she disappeared into her room to work - she's works with computers, I'm not going to pretend I understand exactly what that entails for her, but she mostly keeps to herself. Me, I finished my guilty second slice and drew up a warm bubble bath. I've taken a few quick showers to get the grime off, and this certainly wasn't something I indulged in as Simon, but it felt right for me at this point. Joy has a dainty little body and it deserves to be pampered.
Plus, with my old body, you couldn't even really get me to sit in the tub, so it's nice being small enough for that.
Not gonna lie, after all the running around and craziness of the first few weeks, it felt good to relax and get my mind off things (even as, naked and wet and alone, "things" were very much in front of me.) I made a mental checklist of things that need to be addressed before I can truly live life as Joy Kershaw... and then put it away. "For now, the soak," I thought. Very nice.
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