Even in the best situations, being a father to teenagers is about balancing trying to keep them out of trouble, wanting to relive one's own youth vicariously, and not coming off as weird. Since arriving here from the Inn, the balance has obviously been different - a lot more worrying and less envy - but maybe not quite as much as I'd expected. Being unnerved at how the boys seemed to take to being adult women quickly is kind of balanced by how I've seen that they were able to step up, and I do sometimes wish I were able to make this second nature the way they seem to have, on top of the shameful thrill of being places I'm not supposed to be.
Such as yesterday. I got home from a shift in the bookstore at about 6:30, and before I could ask the guys what we were doing about dinner, Rusty looked up from his phone and asked me and Kutter if we wanted to go to the gym. Kutter didn't even pause the game he was playing but asked if Rusty was trying to tell him he was getting fat, and Rusty said no, he looked great, but this used to be when he and I would take runs together but now our schedules never matched up and it was cold and it had been dark for a couple of hours already, so it might be time to take it inside. Part of me just wanted to get off my feat, but even with different faces and voices, I can still recognize when one of the boys wants me to bring something up, even if I don't know what it is, so I said yes and went into my room to find Emilia's gym bag and throw some stuff into it. I felt weirdly ashamed that it had fallen behind the shoes in her closet.
Rusty was waiting by the door, of course, and we waved at Kutter before leaving. The gym was only a few blocks away, and I could tell Rusty hadn't been there before because he didn't seem to know the process for leaving Monica's membership card at the front desk. I bought a single-day membership, and we headed back to the locker room.
For whatever reason, we were the only people getting changed at the moment. Rusty already had a sport bra and lycra shorts on under his clothes, and I actually thought it was pretty funny that I was the one who was going to be letting stuff hang out, although he looked away as I practically tried to shove my chest into the lockers to go from a regular bra to an athletic one. then pulled yoga pants and sneakers. Rusty obviously had to do much less, so he was waiting for me, and we found a couple treadmills. He set his to a slightly higher setting than mine, and we started running in place.
As I mentioned a couple months ago, Rusty inherited a trim body from Monica and more workout stuff than Kutter and I combined got from Katey and Emilia (I've purchased some less-pink activewear since). When Rusty, who was no more a particularly athletic kid than Kutter, wanted to test it all out, he found he really liked running and keeping active, which has served him pretty well in his job but did give us a few things to think about, like just how much the Inn changed our brains to make us more like these girls. We're less worried now, in part because I can see what practice has done for him - his form has really improved, like he knows how to carry himself better, while I still kind of feel off-balance and like I haven't found the right gear to keep my breasts from bouncing painfully (maybe more annoyingly) or by butt from making me zigzag. It's not Monica's muscle memory but Rusty's effort, even if her chemistry does convert carbs to endorphins better than Rusty's used to.
It was natural enough that he turned his head to talk to me without breaking stride. "So, like I said at the apartment, it's getting cold and dark and stuff, so I'm probably going to start coming here before or after work, but I kind of wanted you to see that I wasn't going to be a creep or anything. I mean, we were all sort of taken aback that first trivia night, but, I dunno, I don't think we cause trouble by using the ladies' room or anything. Are we?"
"I don't think normal rules apply, but, no, you seem to be doing all right. And it's not like we can use men's bathrooms or changing rooms."
"Yeah, we'd be..." He was quiet for a second. "So, remember that Halloween party?" I grunted that I did. "So, there was this guy there who was wearing a football uniform the same color as Monica's cheerleader uniform, and someone suggested posing for a couple pictures, and we did, and he had his hand on my butt and then pulled me in and stuck his tongue down my throat."
That had me stop, and slide off the back of the treadmill, stumbling. "I, uh, don't know what to say."
"Well, as long as it's not 'I told you so'." He turned the machine off and stepped down. "I mean, it sucked, and I kind of worried about not liking it, because new-Rusty has been talking about how weird it is to suddenly find girls attractive--"
I put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Even if you do like boys now, it's normal not to like that."
He nodded, and there was an uncomfortable pause, and I suggested we look at the weight stations, because I've got to carry a bunch of books around and they get heavy quick. He started spotting me, and then we traded off. I got a small bit of satisfaction from being a bit better at this, and not just because Emilia has a slightly bigger frame than Monica. I'm maybe not just built to be pretty like this.
We worked up a good sweat, enough to be pretty ripe, so we hit the showers. It was awkward to start with, even with dividers between stalls, but then a couple more folks came in, and were much less shy than we were. We didn't rush out of the building, exactly, but Rusty almost did forget his membership card.
It was darker and chilly as we walked down the street back to the apartment. "Well, son, I guess you can be trusted in a women's locker room."
"Mm." He seemed to think. "Dad, I know this is going to sound like weird thing to ask, but... Could you maybe not call me 'son' until we're ourselves again? Or 'he' or 'him'? It kind of feels wrong and makes me second-guess myself."
I admit, that did sting a little, but it did make sense. "If that's what you want, Rus-- Uh, Monica."
She exhaled the breath she'd been holding. "I think it is. And you can still call me Rusty if you want; I mean, that can just be a nickname, right?"
"I guess it could. And I don't mind if you call me Emilia, although--"
She turned a bit red. "Oh no, it's one thing when we're out and about, but at home, I kind of want to think of you as my dad and not my sexy roommate. I know, I'm a total hypocrite, but--"
I stood in front of her. "Hey. Whatever you want. You're my... Well, you and Kutter are the most important people in the world to me, and if it makes you comfortable that I treat you like a woman even while you treat me like your father, that's okay. I'm here for whatever you need."
She hugged me, and I hugged back, before we headed back home and made some supper because the workout left us starving. She didn't say anything to Kutter and the need to use pronouns didn't come up before they left for work this morning, so I don't know how he'll react, but it's funny - I didn't realize how genuinely happy I would be to make something in Rusty's life easier even if it seems like I should feel at least a little hurt she's rejected me.
(Also, I am mentally counting the number of times I've made comments about kids and their pronouns and wincing)
- Aidan/Emllia
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