Aidan/Emilia: "I mean, it's this or a locker room!"

I was sitting at Emilia's desk yesterday, looking for new jobs to apply to, when Rusty knocked on the bedroom door.  "Hey, uh, Dad...  Would you like to go for a run with me?"  I turned around, probably intending some sort of joke, only to see that he really meant it:  His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he was wearing black lycra shorts and a matching sport bra, with a holder for Monica's phone on her forearm and a fancy-looking water bottle in his other hand.

"Look at you - turned into a sporty girl, huh?"

"I guess?"  He scratched the back of one leg with the other foot, justifiably uncertain about the answer.  "There's, like, a lot of workout outfits in Monica's stuff, way more than Kutter got from Katey, she's got the little weights in her closet, and there's a gym membership in her wallet that seems to be the first thing she bought when the girls moved to New York."

"I see."  I tried to read his face to see what he thought about it, but although I can usually see my boys' expression on these girls' faces, I wasn't sure what Rusty thought of that.  "You know you don't have to do anything just because Monica did."

"I know, but I'm sick of sitting around the apartment and, I don't know, I've got Monica's biology, maybe she knew she'd get fat if she didn't put the effort in or something."  He put his hands on his hips, which emphasized his trim waist a bit.  "Like, a cursed inn can give you this body but isn't going to maintain it!"

I raised an eyebrow.  "That important to you?"

He shrugged.  "I dunno.  I know pretty girls get treated better than than plain ones, and it's not cool, but here we are!  But mostly i just kinda wanna try the legs out, you know?  Figured you might too."

Put that way, it made a little more sense, and if he was going to run through the streets in something like that, he probably shouldn't be alone.  "Okay, let me get changed."  He nodded and closed the door, and I heard him filling the water bottle as I saw what Emilia had.

It was pink, but at least the shorts went to the knee.  The top had short sleeves rather than Rusty's open shoulders and squeezed enough that I immediately understood why she didn't wear sports bras all the time even though it did a better job of keeping things in place than most of the other bras she owned.  I don't have quite enough hair for a ponytail, so I put on a headband.  I also donned a t-shirt and jogging shorts, seeing if maybe he'd take the hint.  Instead he just threw me a "looking cute, Dad!" before handing me a bottle.

We started with an easy enough pace that we could talk about how the job hunts were going, but every once in a while he'd ask if it was okay to pick up the pace, and we did.  That Monica was a few inches shorter than Emilia didn't much seem to matter - maybe Monica had toned the right muscles before Rusty got her shape, or maybe he had just been in gym class more recently than I had, but it seemed to come naturally enough to him that we wound up keeping pace.  Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy it; sure, I could feel some of the bounce in my chest, but the arms and legs and back moved easier than they had in years (if you've read that story about how people seem to age in two bursts at 44 and 60, well, I'm past that first one).  It was a reminder that, yes, the Inn had made us women, and made my boys adults, but it also made me young, and I should maybe enjoy that while I could.

After a while, though, I had to tap Rusty's shoulder and ask if we were supposed to take the bus home, and he almost tripped stopping like that had just occurred to him.  Indeed, he must have been in some sort of zone, because he took a big swig from his bottle as if just realizing he was thirsty, then opened his phone, shocked to see we'd run nearly four miles.  "Wow!  I guess I did become a sporty girl!"

I laughed.  "Yeah, well, I maybe haven't, and your brother's going to wonder where we went!"  He nodded, and we turned around and started back.

It was actually a nice time to chat - in the apartment, I suppose we're kind of guarded and worried about what comes next, and I'm still Dad, but outside, our brains flooded with a bunch of endorphins, he talks about all the things he's seen that are going on in the neighborhood, the borough, and the city at large, that some band or other would be playing here but would have been a few hour's drive from our hometown, and so on.  Some kid's soccer ball got away from them and he happily kicked it back.  It was a real reminder that we've spent an awful lot of the last few weeks worried about everything and making each other more worried, and that's no way to live, especially for someone as naturally outgoing as Rusty.

As expected, Kutter was plenty surprised when he heard us opening the door and came out of his room to see us in workout clothes.  He looked at Rusty especially dumbfounded, asking when his brother had started running, and Rusty shrugged.  "I mean, it was this or a gym, and just imagine how Dad would have freaked out if I said I was going to go someplace where a bunch of women would be naked with me in a locker room!"  I felt like I should say something at that, but he turned around and looked at me and said I should probably hit the shower first.

He was right; I was sweaty and he was glistening.  But I smiled as I got in and the water reduced Rusty and Kutter chatting in the next room to a vague chatter.  The workout had felt good and it was very nice to hear Rusty sounding like himself.

-Aidan/Emilia

Daryl/Zee: Wouldn't Be a Proper Inn Person Otherwise

There's a bunch of reasons us folks who have been to the Inn wind up in and around Boston, eventually; it's the nearest big city that has a direct connection to Old Orchard Beach, if only by rail, so a lot of folks who wind up switched around come from there.  If you're looking to change back and at a loose end, it's tempting to settle there so that logistics don't mess it up - they never posted to the blog, but I heard about one person whose borrowed identity was low on PTO, so they would drive up to Maine, sleep there, and then come back to Boston until they changed so that the person getting their old life back wouldn't get in too much trouble at work.  And it's a pretty nice city; not Chicago or New York but it's got all the sports, plenty of museums, at least one restaurant from whatever cuisine you happen to like, and, relatedly, your various ethnic enclaves.

"Inn People" isn't really one of those, but I do think we need each other.  You look at some entries from when this blog first started and there's someone who wound up really far from everyone else, they drop off the site, and when someone gets back in contact they've got a conspiracy wall that was apparently 10% informative and 90% paranoid.  Or you can just lose track of who you were before, like this huge portion of your life just didn't matter.  And given my personal history of losing myself, it's probably a good idea to have people around who can say "hey, Zee, what would Daryl think?"

(Is this always a good rule for an Inn Person?  Probably not!  Is it good for me to occasionally ask the question?  More often than not!)

Plus, and I cannot stress this enough, the new job is full-time rather than freelance, offers health insurance, and only averages a little more than two days a week required in the office because my job entails leading in-person training sessions as well as project management, and there's enough hardware engineering/prototyping going on that a lot of the team is on-site anyway.  Apparently my willingness to come in got me the position over a few people who insisted on being completely remote even though my "Zee" résumé isn't quite so good as my "Daryl + Elaine + Zee" one would be, if I could get people to believe in it.

So, that's me in Boston.  I found a fairly decent condo in Dorchester, although the down-payment has nixed me doing any sort of real vacation for a couple of years.  It's not quite on the subway, but one of those bike things is nearby, and that's probably better for me anyway.

Will I be here for good?  Who knows, I may decide that even in a fairly Black neighborhood, this city lives down to its racist reputation and decide to go elsewhere.  But for now, it suits me.

-Zee

Aidan/Emilia: "Son, Your Breasts Are Very Nice and Don't Let Anyone Tell You Different!"

As much as being a woman is deeply strange, I think it's probably good that it happened to all of us.  I may not necessarily have a lot of advice to offer Kutter and Rusty from experience, but us all being in the same situation keeps things from getting too acrimonious.  The boys are inseparable these days, but they would fight over everything when they were younger, and this is a situation where kids yelling "you just don't understand" could get really nasty.

I'm kind of in awe of my friends who have daughters and are good fathers to them, because I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and can't imagine how I'd feel if I were entirely looking at it from the outside.  I like to think I'd be a good girl dad, but this is the first time I've had to think about it, and having it just happen all at once is different.  The other day, for instance, Rusty and Kutter were playing a videogame when Kutter got a weird look on his face, paused, and looked down before getting up and racing to the bathroom, slamming the door.  There was a little spot of blood on the leather couch where he'd been sitting.

Rusty opened his mouth as if to say something and I raised a finger.  "Just get something from under the sink and some paper towels and wipe it up, okay?  It could be you tomorrow."  He nodded and went to the kitchen while I walked to the bathroom door and knocked.  "You okay in there?"

I heard a loud sniffle.  "I don't know.  I guess i knew it was coming but it's so gross!"

"Yeah, I know.  Anyway, look in the medicine cabinet; I think the girls all marked their period stuff with heir initials.  What've you got?"

There was a pause.  "Oh, it's tampons."

"That's okay, I think that's what Emilia uses too.  I guess Rusty gets the pads.  Anyway, I don't know how much you've poked around down there, but your mom always said men make too big a deal about the whole thing.  Just read the instructions and do what they say.  Hopefully it's just uncomfortable at first."

There was a pause, and then he sounded a bit more confident.  "Okay, but I think I'll take a shower first.  Could you get me a change of clothes?  I even got some blood on the bottom of my t-shirt."

"Of course."  As soon as I heard the shower start, I went to check on Rusty, who had cleaned up the mess.  "Your brother's doing okay.  How about you?  I know it's been a couple of weeks, but this makes it all a bit more real, right?"

He nodded.  "Yeah.  I mean, it's been plenty real, but this is really real."  He looked like he wanted to say more, but was at an unusual loss for words.  I squeezed his shoulder and went into Katey's room, which I suspect wasn't as tidy before Kutter moved in.  Not wanting to intrude, I quickly opened a couple of drawers, pulling out panties, a top, and shorts, not really looking at what I was taking; the piles in there were running pretty short, as we hadn't done laundry yet after a couple of weeks.  I stationed myself back at the door and passed them through when Kutter opened it a crack.  A few minutes later he came out and I slapped my forehead.  The shorts were cutoffs just barely covering his behind, and the shirt was a crop-top camisole.

Kutter smiled nervously.  "I guess I should have been more specific."

I started sputtering apologies.  "I'm so sorry - I should have looked more closely!"

He shook his head.  "No, it's fine.  Like, this is how girls dress on a hot summer day, right?  And we're really girls now, right?  Why don't we go get ice cream?  Isn't that a thing, girls getting ice cream after their first periods?  You two go change, I'll wait."

I looked him in the eyes.  "You sure?"

He stared back, hard.  "I am not going to let this get me down, Dad."

I nodded.  "You heard 'im, Rusty.  Let's get changed."  He nodded and practically raced into Monica's room.

Once in Emilia's I looked through my inherited dresser - I confess, I had not gone through it like Kutter had - and pulled out a camisole and cut-offs for myself.  I tugged at the top a bit, took a couple deep breaths, and went back into the common area.  Rusty's jaw dropped.  "Holy shit, Dad!"

"C'mon, they're not that big!  Emilia just favored, you know, a deeper neckline than her roommates."

"Yeah, because of her great big boobs!"

I was about to say something when Kutter elbowed his brother.  "Stop being a creep, you little twerp.  It's still Dad, and it's not like you're exactly hiding your cleavage either."  He took a few steps to the door.  "You guys coming?"  I nodded and we followed.

We didn't actually walk very far, finding a nice place with not horrifically expensive cones (for New York) next to a little park. grabbing a picnic table to sit around.  Rusty took a big lick from his and jumped in.  "So, Dad, I'm not trying to be disrespectful or weird or anything, but you've been hiding those boobs, right?"

I grumbled, not really wanting to talk about it, but not wanting to lie.  "I mean, we've all been wearing these ladies' loosest tops, right?"  The boys sheepishly nodded.  "I guess maybe I've had more opportunity to look in the mirror and think that's kind of tight in the morning, but I also don't want to feel like I'm putting an pressure on you guys to embrace your new figures or whatever."

"But what if we were waiting for you to show us we shouldn't be embarrassed?"  Sensing the question rattled me, Kutter continued.  "Although now I guess I'm just going to be embarrassed by my little B-cups."

"Son, your breasts are very nice and don't let anyone tell you different!"  The boys laughed.  "But, seriously, size isn't everything and we're not exactly looking for attention from boys, are we."  The two shook their heads.  "But, anyway, I'm sorry if you've been looking for a signal from me or have been feeling held back outside the apartment.  This is new to all of us."

I narrowed my attention to Kutter.  "I do want to say, though, that you handled everything as well as can be expected, and you're kind of lucky, in that you didn't know it was coming."

Rusty looked confused.  "How's that lucky?"

"Because my guts have been killing me for the past couple of days and I couldn't figure out why until this morning.  You'd think I'd've noticed the Midol with Emilia's name on it in the medicine cabinet, but, no, I've just been taking regular ibuprofen.  So I'm probably up next, but, seriously, I think I'd rather have been surprised by my first period than feel this."

"Geez, Dad!"  Kutter shook his head.  "What about that stuff you said about us being in it together and Rusty and me being adults?  Don't hide this stuff from us!"

"Okay, I won't.  Promise."  I noticed I'd gotten an odd look.  "Although, maybe not 'Dad' when we're outside like this."

"Fine, Emilia."  A moment later, Kutter shook his head.  "Nope, feels wrong.  But I guess we'll get used to weirder, because I've got at least eight more days like today coming before we go back."

Rusty started counting on his fingers.  "Gee, thanks for that, Katey.  You guys are really making me look forward to the next couple of weeks.

He laughed, but it's kind of funny that my period came just as Kutter's ended, and now it's Rusty's turn.  I suppose this is better than it hitting us all at once, but it's been a long week!

-Aidan/Emilia