Marc/Ed: "Not her again"

Sometimes I manage to forget I'm so old.

Now, it's not easy. The world, the mirror, and my own body are full of reminders: you are not young. You don't have the energy and vitality of a 35-year-old -- and let's face it, the "value" to society. I've gotten used to the shock of seeing wrinkles, saggy jowls, and gray hair (and very little of it left.) And though my mind doesn't fully compute that I should have good eyesight, there are plenty of thirtysomethings out there with coke-bottle glasses.

But from time to time I forget that I am seen as, and supposed to behave like, an old man -- and that usually happens when I'm around Christine.

We were at lunch sometime just after the new year. We had decided on getting shawarma. I said "I love shawarma," and she ribbed me saying, "Do people your age even know what shawarma is? Is that something they had back when you were growing up during World War II?"

To which I replied, "I wasn't around during World War II... wait, was I? No, no, I'm not that old." She laughed, which is good because mentally having to remember my own age was not, in the strictest sense of the word, a joke. I had to remind myself that Ed was born in the late '40's, after the war ended.

She laughed and we continued to banter... about what it's not important, and even if I told you half of it wouldn't make sense anyway, but it was just chit-chat, and then we got to talking about serious stuff. She's got medical debts to pay off and it's not going well, and it's really putting a strain on her life and wellbeing.

I asked how much she would need to feel comfortable. She gave me a number. It didn't seem unreasonable to me. I should note that I have access to a sum of money, not Ed's, but my own that I have carried through my past few lives. It's mine to do with as I please, and sharing some with Christine, the one person who makes my time in this life more bearable, was not any kind of hardship.

She demurred, "I couldn't..."

I insisted, "You have to."

"You need it more than I do!"

"Feh, I won't be here much longer."

That briefly stopped the conversation cold, and I forgot it sounded like I meant I was going to die soon, not that I was trading this body back to its original owner.

We both got our conversational bearings again and she said "If I wasn't so afraid of onion breath, I'd kiss you!"

"Oh, I don't mind," I said reflexively -- oblivious to what seemed to be a flirtatious remark, and really just trying to make a statement about onion breath.

"I was talking about yours," she laughed, then nudged my shoulder playfully.

Eventually, after we parted ways, I thought more about that remark. I loved the idea of her liking me, but hated it in equal measure because I don't want to lead her on and make her think something is going to happen that can't happen. And probably the only reason I let it get this far is that it seemed somewhat improbable that a 52-year-old woman was going to throw herself at a 76-year-old man.

It saddens me that, for all of the obvious reasons, this can't happen. She deserves happiness, and I deserve happiness, but we can't be happy together.

But as far as the outside world is concerned there's one reason why it won't happen, and that reason is blonde, 5'4, and 44 years old.

"Not her again!" Pam shrieked into the phone when I told her that I had been out with Christine a while later.

I had brought Christine around for Christmas dinner, much to Pam's surprise, as when I said I was bringing a friend from group, she pictured someone older and possibly male. She immediately got the wrong idea -- not only that this was romantic (we both swore up and down that it wasn't) but that Christine was some kind of scam artist out to get what little money I supposedly had. This certainly didn't dispel that notion.

"What's this e-transfer for?!" she screamed -- I had to route the money through Ed's bank account to keep questions from cropping up. "I didn't even know you knew how to do e-banking! Where did you get that kind of money?" (Well, I guess I failed at keeping questions from cropping up.)

"Pam, it's my money, I'm fine, and she needs it more than I do."

She listed a litany of things I do in fact need money for, and refused to believe that my needs were taken care of.

"You do not have money to throw away on some ho-ah! I sweah, it's like you're a completely different person since mom died."

Which is true, give or take some of the timeline.

"What about repayment?" she asked, "Is she good for it?"

"It's a gift," I said. "No repayment."

She muttered some more curses into the phone and ended the call.

I sat and thought about whether Christine really was just out for money. Look, I'm not really a doddering old man who would be easy to take advantage of -- or at least, I like to think so. I'd like to think I can judge people well. But it's not like there's a lot of credibility on Christine's side for Pam, since this strange woman has seemingly just managed to extract a large chunk of her father's savings after only knowing him a few months.

But perhaps I am just too nice for my own good. Too eager to help. That's what motivated me to make a very poor decision with John last year, and now look where it's gotten me again. Like I said, it's not anything I wasn't willing to part with, but the idea that there's something disingenuous about her... that would hurt more than any financial loss.

Marc/Ed: What's best

How long has it been since I was alone? 

I was with Laura for years. Then as Chantelle, I was a single lady, but thanks to her extremely involved family I was never really alone -- they wouldn't let me.

Now, it sometimes feels like I have all the time and space in the world, and it's a little scary, even if that was what I wanted for a long time.

It isn't that Pamela, Ed's daughter, doesn't care for him. I think from her perspective she checks in often and works hard to make sure he's all right. But compared to other lives I have lived, her approach is very hands-off (this is consistent with New Englanders/Mainahs in my experience.) Even the real Ed doesn't reach out to me, preferring to not acknowledge our predicament out of a sense of privacy, rather than commiserate with someone over the fact that he is currently living as a 30-year-old Indian-American woman. And John, of course, doesn't want to talk to me much unless it's on the topic of when and how we are going back to the Inn, which I arranged as soon as I could.

I always thought I was simply a loner. Why else would I have left a lucrative job in a bustling office to drive an Uber?

But maybe I was just keeping the wrong company, and without anyone I simply feel alone. Believe it or not, being older I am okay with. If, by some mistake of fate, I was stuck as Ed forever, I would accept it, but I don't think Ed would let that happen to himself or to Cayden. I ache, my eyes strain, but otherwise I am in okay health, and if this body falls apart before my mind does, there are less deserving (or at least less-prepared) people it could happen to.

(I assure you, this post is getting better.)

But it's being unoccupied and alone that was getting to me. I felt it around the holidays, where I made token appearances with family but otherwise kept to myself... but then there was Christine.

I mentioned her in passing. We met part of the same counselling group, which I have found immensely useful to talk around my problems even if I can't say "I was a high-powered lawyer who had a nervous breakdown, then lived for several years as a girl in Albany before becoming the man you see before you." I talk about loss, I talk about Ed's late wife as code for the end of my relationship with Laura and ultimately my departure from being the person I was born as, etc etc. Mostly I stay quiet and listen, and then we play games or have a movie night.

I started seeing Christine outside of that context once the days started getting really short and cold. I came and shoveled her walk a few times, even though she insists I'm too old and frail to be doing anything of the sort (and she may have a point but my brain refuses to agree.) We have coffee now and again and she laughs in surprise about how I, in her words, don't just seem younger than myself, but younger than her ("and yet, the way you complain about grocery prices, I can tell you really are an old guy at heart." Thanks Chris.)

She's made this whole experience a little more worthwhile but I think we're kind of in a weird spot. If things were different, I might consider trying to pursue a relationship with this woman. I really do have feelings for her in a way that I haven't in a very, very long time. But even if she did return them -- and there are times I catch her looking at me and think, improbably, that that's possible -- I'm not exactly in a position to make any long-term commitments. The snow may be piled high right now, but before long spring will be here and the real Ed will return (we can only hope) and shouldn't be expected to take up someone else's fling. From what I gather of Ed, I don't think he would be all that grateful.

One thing I've learned from my experiences at the Inn is to leave well enough alone. I messed with John's life and look where it got us. The best thing for me and everyone else is to just go back to being alone -- at least for the immediate future.

-Marc/Ed

Dave/Chris: Meeting Chris and Sylvia

A few days ago, I was waiting tables in the cafe, when a couple in their 50s walked in. They had a look around the cafe and then sat down. When the man caught my attention, he called me over. He looked familiar, but it took me a moment to realise that this was the original Chris, and the woman he was with, was Sylvia. "What are you doing here?" I blurted out as soon as I recognised them "Sorry, that was rude of me. I just didn't expect you to show up here. I'm Dave, and Shane is behind the counter at the moment. It's nice to meet you in person". "Likewise", he said. "Sorry we didn't announce ourselves, but we have a few days of vacation, and decided to come here spontaneously. Come back home to some familiarity and see how you guys are doing....as us. It is strange to see yourself through someone else's eyes though." We were actually quite busy that day, and didn't have time to talk, so we decided to meet up later for dinner in an upmarket seafood restaurant that they suggested.

Shane was really stressed getting ready for that night. He complained that he didn't know what to wear. "This is where I really miss being a man. It's easy for you. Just put on a pair of pants and a shirt and you're fine. I don't know what to wear. It's a nice restaurant, and I'm still not sure what's suitable" He went back to his room, and came out again a few minutes later with a couple of dresses and a skirt and a couple of tops. "Which one should I wear?" he asked. "I spotted the blue dress he wore the first time he put on a dress and suggested that. Shane went back to his room and came out again half an hour later.  He had put on his make-up and jewellery and was wearing the blue dress with matching heels.

Dinner was interesting. I don't think I mentioned Chris and Sylvia's new names or what they do yet. They're Roger and Deborah, and both have office jobs. Roger is in middle management in a mid-size company, which Chris said was daunting at first, but that he'd managed to find his way around reasonably quickly. He said that once he realised that he could delegate most of what he didn't know, it became a question of just being organised, rather than needing too many specific skills. Deborah is in marketing, and it seemed like it's been a lot harder for Sylvia. She doesn't have the years of experience that Deborah does, and has messed a few things up. The original Deborah has told her that she loves her job, so Sylvia is now just trying very hard to not get fired before they can switch back.

Shane asked Chris about whether they had considered staying who they are, or maybe trying to find other bodies, given that he's gone from being a trans man to a biological man. "In the beginning, I really thought about it", he replied "but I quickly realised that I miss being a part of the LBGTQ+ community. It might sound strange, because for my whole life I've wanted this - to be a man, with all the right parts, but we have a life here and friends, and to be honest, I find this life dull and lonely. I wish I could keep my penis, and I think Sylvia would probably like it if I could keep it too" he said, winking at her, which made her blush "but I don't think it's worth it. Besides, we've lost about 20 years of our lives. In any case, the original Roger and Deborah want their bodies back. We'd also really like our bodies back, and would be very grateful if you help us to make that happen. We've managed to get reservations in the correct room, so we should be OK." Sylvia chimed in: "yeah, I'm a much older woman, and I don't fit in with other women 'my' age. It might also sound weird, but I really miss being bisexual. Deborah is 100% straight, and women do nothing for me now. I feel like a part of me that I liked a lot, has been ripped away. But what about you?" Chris asked Shane. "You look pretty comfortable as a woman. It's hard to believe that you were a man only a few months ago."

Shane shifted in his seat a little, adjusted his dress and recrossed his legs. "It took me a while to get past the embarassment of wearing women's clothes. At first, I felt like I was crossdressing every day, but when everyone looks at you like it's normal, and you even get a lot of compliments on your appearance, then you get over that pretty quickly. I'm looking forward to getting back, though. It takes far too long to get ready, a lot of the attention I get is too much for me, and I really hate periods. As for your sexuality...well, it's weird because I'm still attracted to women, but now I feel like I'm attracted to everyone....not everyone, literally, but you know what I mean." Sylvia looked at Shane and asked. "Obviously sexual attraction comes with your body, and that body is attracted to Chris' body. You don't have to answer, but have you two....you know, done anything about it? It would definitely be a different experience for both of you." I think both Chris and I felt equally awkward then. We admitted that we hadn't, and tried to change the subject, but the embarassment stayed with us for a while. 

For most of the rest of the meal, we chatted about fairly mundane things, but as we were getting to the end of dinner, There was something I had to ask Chris. "Aren't you worried about how Trump is taking away trans rights? I mean, as far as the government is concerned, I...and in a couple of months, you will be classed as being a woman. It scares me, and I only have to deal with it for a few more months. Do you really want to come back to that?" Chris leaned back and nodded, and said "Yes, it's a very worrying time to be trans, but I've been through worse. I don't know if I told you, but we're originally from a small town in Montana, and when we came out as gay, we were rejected by our families and lost almost all of our friends. When I came out as trans, it was even worse, and we felt like we had to move away to be happy. San Francisco seemed like the obvious place. If we can survive that, then we can survive this. With any luck, it'll be over in 4 years, and I think the Californian government will also protect us as best as they can. I love being a part of this community, and we have so many friends that I'm missing." 

After dinner we decided to go to a bar for a few drinks. It was a gay bar, and I've never been to one before, and I doubt Shane had either. I don't think I had a problem with gay or trans people in my previous life, but I was definitely ignorant. Ignorant of the hardships and challenges they face. I always wondered why you would need bars that define themselves as gay, but having gone to "regular" bars as Chris, I definitely felt safer here, even though Chris does pass quite well, apart from a few things you'd knowingly have to look for, but there's always that fear of being found out. But now, I didn't feel like I had to worry about hiding the fact that I'm a trans man. We found a table and ordered some drinks. Chris and Sylvia are actually very friendly and easy to get along with, so we stayed for a lot longer and had more to drink than we intended.

At some point, we did call it a night, and Shane and I took an Uber home. It had turned out to be both an educational and fun night, but as we walked inside Shane grabbed me and started kissing me. Between kisses, he said: "I've been thinking about what Sylvia said the whole time, about having sex with each other, and it's a huge turn on. I'm really horny." I was too, and we kept going, and we ended up in Shane's bed. I helped him take off his dress and bra, and started playing with his nipples. After a while, my hand went lower and lower, until I reached his pussy. I pulled off his panties and started to rub him around his clit. "Oh god....yes, right there" he moaned. He was very wet, and this would have been the time to fuck him. I couldn't do that, so I did the next best thing and went down on him, licking and sucking, until he tensed up. "Oh...oh...oh" he screamed. 

We lay there for a couple of minutes and caught our breaths. "OK. My turn", he said "If it's too weird or you don't like it, then we can stop at any time." I watched as he pulled down my briefs and pull out the prosthetic, and then he went to work. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that I was getting a blow job, and if I tried hard enough, I could almost imagine it. It felt a bit strange and different, but having a sexy woman between my legs, regardless of the genitals I had, was a big turn on. Shane kept going and I was getting closer and closer until I finally let out a long, loud moan, as I came. He immediately turned around and maneuvered himself into a position between my legs, where he could grind his pussy into mine. "I've always wanted to try this", he said. It was already a weird feeling that I didn't need any downtime before going again. I could feel his rubbing against my very sensitive enlarged clit, as we scissored and it didn't take long before we both came again. We held each other for a while, before we kissed again and I got up and went to bed. I lay there for a while, thinking about what we did, and whether we should have crossed this line, before drifting off to sleep.

It seems like we're making up for lost time now, because we've had sex for on each of the 3 nights since then, and last night was the first time we used some of the toys, which meant it was the first time I'd put something in my pussy. It's a weird feeling, but the nerves are all there and working. I don't get as wet as Shane - maybe due to the hormones, but with some lubricant, it feels really good. 

So it looks like our pretend relationship is turning into an actual relationship. I don't know how this will affect us when go back, but our friendship will probably never be the same again...

Jonah/Krystle: Meet the (Grand) Parents

We're pretty sure that Gabe meet my real parents at some point, but not sure exactly when, and I was half-tempted to search the blog and Facebook to find when before they arrived in New Orleans for their "vacation".  Which is to say, their time checking out Gabriel Potts to see if he's good enough for their son/daughter and making sure that I'm doing okay raising my daughter.  They've mostly accepted that in going to be Krystle for the rest of my life, but even with me having been a woman long enough for Moira to be a very happy and outgoing second-grader, they're not sure I've got the proper instincts to raise a little girl so she'll wind up in a better position than pre-Inn Krystle. 

And maybe I don't, but I'm doing okay with trial and error.  Moira is at the age where she's staying to ask questions about her biological father, even if she has more or less accepted Gabe as "Daddy:.  June doesn't seem to mind answering when she calls and sends birthday cards, but he's found a new girlfriend, and maybe nothing comes of it, but maybe he justifiably wants to look forward rather than behind, even if it hurts Moira a little.  Not that Moira is lacking for attention and support - Gabe and I volunteer for a lot at school and after, and try to be attentive parents.  Folks tell us we do well.

Still, my folks wanted to see for themselves, so they came down here on vacation and found reasons to not just have their granddaughter dropped off with them to babysit, although they did do a lot of that.  I think they kind of played the roles of people coming to see their granddaughter but not wanting to impose on their son's baby-mama a little too much - Gabe knows "Krystle" lived with them while "Jonah" traveled, so it's reasonable that we'd be close - but I'm pretty sure that it's mostly playing a part rather than rejecting me.  If anything, I think, it's about sparing themselves the incongruity of me being with Gabe even though meeting him was part of why they came.

We had a few fun evenings out - a riverboat cruise, some jazz, including Preservation Hall.  The latter is one of those things that you kind of avoid if you live somewhere because they're swamped by tourists but which you're reminded are, in fact, a lot of fun when the tourists drag you there.  They also had a lot of fun with Moira, who has picked up more French than I have but really only needs to say "bonjour!" and "merci!" to impress Mom & Dad.  It is adorable, truth be told, as has a girl who used to be such a fussy eater deciding she really likes po'boys and telling them to try one while they're shocked that I get red beans & rice with alligator sausage.

Everyone was having enough fun that it was hard for them to find time to talk to me as Jonah, so to speak.  They'd told me not to disrupt my work schedule too much when they informed me of their vacation plans, but because Gabe works remotely and actually has pretty flexible hours, there weren't any times we could exclude him until Friday morning, when he had a big end-of-week review meeting and I had a couple hours between dropping Moira off at school and the gym opening to have brunch with my parents after they checked out ofd their hotel.  I dressed up a bit for Brennan's, and while I didn't get too fancy, a silk camisole, capris, and two-inch heels must have seemed like a lot to them the way they stared.  I get it; even after almost ten years, their experience with me as a woman is mostly tomboyish outfits, what they probably think of as a costume or disguise when I was waiting tables, or really casual clothes for the busy single mom, and the idea that I might be wearing something that makes me look nice in a very feminine way without having to fool people was probably new.

Surprisingly, it was Mom who took it with good humor this time.  "My little boy, showing off his rack."

I laughed, in a bit of shock, but shrugged in a way I knew would make my breasts move a bit.  "Haven't been little or a boy in a while.  But it is kind of surprising; I feel like even five years ago, all of this was something I just kind of had to put up with in order to have brought Moira into the world and fed her and all that, and maybe it was useful to sometimes play it up because of how people react.  But at some point, I kind of liked how I looked in the mirror because it said something about me rather than because I saw the sexy girl as someone else.  You know what I mean?"

Mom nodded.  "Oh, I sure do.  Your father still probably doesn't really believe that we dress up more for our girlfriends and ourselves than boys, but you get it, don't you?"

Dad snorted before I could respond.  "Hey, I am not some caveman who think women are just here to please men.  It just seems like a lot of trouble, is all."  He paused as the waitress came over and took our orders.  "But you have landed a man, haven't you?"

I smiled.  "I have."

"And that's really what you want?  In here, and in here?"  He tapped his heart, and then, a bit more tentatively, his temple.

I took a breath, trying to figure out how to explain it, not to avoid giving offense, but so I could say what I meant without really understanding it myself.  "I mean, I don't think Gabe is just 'a man'; I think he's pretty special.  I don't know how all this works.  My friend Jordan, she really tries to figure out the biology of it and explain it to me, and sometimes knowing that the Inn changed something in my nose so it would respond more to men than women helped and sometimes it just made me feel like the Devil is using my body to tempt me into sin.  I don't really understand it, to tell you the truth.  I just know that the pieces of the world fit together a lot better around me and Gabe than me alone."

Mom nodded.  "A good man does make a lot of things easier."

"It's not just that.  I mean, when I first started trying to date guys, it was about that, realizing that America is really not set up for Black single moms and their kids, and trying to find a way to cushion the blow if something went wrong, but I actually started doing all right for myself.  Gabe just makes me feel more me, you know?  Even if that's not the me I was ten years ago."

Dad nodded, trying to process it, while Mom raised an eyebrow.  "Doesn't hurt hat he looks fine and has a good job, though, does it?"

My mouth sort of popped open and stayed that way while the waiter brought us our food.  "Oh my god - is that why you're suddenly so much more accepting of all this now?  Because I've got a good man?"

Mom looked down at her plate, avoiding eye contact.  "It's not just that, although seeing you do so well on that count makes it all a bit more real, but--"  She looked around and pulled her chair a little closer to the table and me, sort of remembering that Louisiana is the South, even if New Orleans often seems like a whole other thing.  It's just, this past year, with that lady at the Olympics and the election with all those people who call themselves Christians just being so mean about girls who started out as boys and vice versa and then looking to hurt them as soon as they could.  It made me realize where the hurt at at you choosing not to be the boy I gave birth to could lead, and, honey, you may not believe this, but I don't want to go there."  She reached across the table and took my hands.  "You've done so well, even without me helping the way I should have, and that includes Gabriel."

Dad nodded.  "I'm not going to say it doesn't sting a bit to see you embrace all this, but..."  He didn't seem to know how to end that.  "Anyway, I can't imagine changing  everything like you did, and kind of figured if you did get married, you'd still be, uh--"

I beamed.  "Wearing black instead of white?  Let me tell you, I kind of want to!  I've stood outside bridal shops and seen those things that go out to here and look like they'll tear if they even get near something with a point, and I just cannot bring myself to go in, and Gabe's family is sending me pictures of dresses with veils and trains and corsets, and sometimes insinuating that me not being gung-ho on the biggest, fanciest wedding and dress and reception is me not wanting to marry him!  Trust me, I have fantasized about whether it would be possible to use the Inn to make Gabe the bride and me the groom!"

A tut-tut-tut that I had not heard since high school came out of my Mom's mouth.  "Trust me, you do not want to miss out on being a bride!"  She looked at her watch and sighed.  "You should have told me this earlier; no time to do anything before our flight."

I quickly clicked my phone on and off to see I had about half an hour to get to work, so I signaled for the check, argued over who was paying before I got the bill, and then hugged before pointing them in the direction of the nearest taxi stand and then catching a bus.

That night, I got a text asking if it was okay if she and Momma Kamen came down in a couple weeks to help me choose a dress.  Is that something I should look forward to?

Dave/Chris General Update

I thought I should give everyone an update on what's been happening. The last time I wrote anything was for my birthday, which was 2 months ago. Before I start on any updates, I've noticed that Aiden/Emilia has started calling his (her) sons by their current names and using female pronouns. I haven't done this with Shane. Obviously, everyone else calls him Sylvia and "she", but I call him Shane, and he calls me Dave when we're alone and he hasn't asked me to change that. I think it might make things easier when we change back, and when you're talking to someone, you don't tend to use pronouns at all. This is the only place where I still call him Shane, and "Him". When I talk about him to anyone else, he's obviously Sylvia and "She". I'm not going to change that here, unless there's a reason to.

Anyway....The cafe normally shuts for a week or so over Christmas, and we saw no reason to change this while we were here. We were looking at going away somewhere, but everything was too expensive. We'd left things too late to get any sort of a bargain. "Why don't we go to Indy for Christmas?" suggested Shane. "I'd like to see how things are at home, and we don't have to pay for accommodation, and we don't have any other expenses like renting a car." It sounded like a good idea, so we looked and managed to find a decently priced flight for December 23 to Indy.

It was a strange feeling when we arrived. It's the city I grew up in and know very well, but this body has probably never been there, and nobody I know would ever guess that it's me. We went to our respective houses when we arrived, and decided to have some time for ourselves, before Shane would come to my house on Christmas day for a meal. I never had much to do with the neighbours, and I doubt they even realised that the house was unoccupied since September. It didn't look too bad. I'm sure if it had been left over summer, things would have looked a lot worse, with an overgrown garden, but over winter, not much grows. The first thing I did when I got inside was to open the fridge to get a beer. As soon as I opened it, I was hit by a disgusting smell. I hadn't really thought about it, but of course, I was expecting to only be gone for a couple of weeks, so I didn't clear anything out, and now everything in there had gone off - apart from the beer. I spent the next hour cleaning out unidentifiable mouldy containers and bought some baking soda to soak up the stench. I can't imagine how bad it would have been if we didn't come back until May. I also bought groceries for Christmas dinner. 

It was nice to feel the familiarity of home again, even though my body is quite a bit different to when I was there last, but as I sat in front of the TV, watching whatever rubbish was on, I managed to completely forget about that as well - to the extent that when I had to visit the bathroom, I stood in front of the toilet and forgot that I don't have a cock right now. That hasn't happened to me since the early days of the transformation. When I went to bed, I grabbed a pair of shorts out of my drawer and realised how big they are on me now. I still wore them, just for the familiar feeling, and it was great to be able to sleep in my own bed again.

The next day, I went to my shop. It was still locked up, and the note in the window still said that it would be reopening in late September. I updated it to say May, hoping that I hadn't lost too many customers in my absence. Then I went to one of my favourite restaurants for lunch. I was a regular there for many years, and it was an odd experience to sit there, and recognise all the staff and some of the customers that I've known for years, but for nobody to know who I was.

For Christmas, Shane came by at around lunchtime. He brought some dessert he had made the day before, and then we cooked a nice meal. I'm amazed at how well it turned out, because neither of us were very good cooks before, but working in a cafe and cooking and baking every day for a few months really improved our skills. Even though we never made a proper Christmas dinner before, cooking and baking skills are transferable, and the dinner was delicious and very filling. When we go back to our normal lives, it's something I'll take with me that will be a positive from this experience. We agreed not to get each other presents. There's the whole issue of who to get them for - would I be buying something for Shane or for Sylvia? It was just easier not to do it at all. I just enjoyed being home again, and revelling in the familiarity of it all. Over the time we were home, I spent a lot of time just walking around town, or even just staying at home. I met Shane for dinner a couple of times and we went out to a few of the bars that we used to visit.

On the last night before we flew out, we went out to a cocktail bar that I used to go to with my ex-wife. I don't know why I suggested it - maybe because I was with Shane, who happens to be a hot woman right now, and I kind of wanted to go on a date. I don't know....but while we were there, Stacey, my ex-wife walked straight past our table. She obviously didn't recognise either of us, but I watched her, and she walked to a booth, where a man she was with was waiting for her. He gave her a kiss as she sat down. We've been divorced for a few years, but it's the first time I've seen her with another man, and I felt like I'd been punched in the guts. All I could think about was that this is the guy who replaced me. He's the one who spent Christmas at my house, with my wife and my daughter. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't - I had to stay to see what was happening. Shane urged us to go somewhere else, but I wouldn't. Instead, I asked him to follow her into the bathroom the next time she went, and find out who the guy is. I know it wasn't a good idea, and Shane told me so, but I was adament, and eventually he agreed. After what seemed like hours, I saw her get up and walk past our table to get to the bathroom. Shane got up and followed her. Then he seemed to be gone for a long time before he came back, chatting with my ex, like they were best friends. "Hi I'm Stacey", she said as she got to our table. "Hi, I'm Chris", I replied, as nonchalently as I could, with my heart beating at 100 miles an hour. "Nice to meet you, Chris", she said. "You two have a good time, I have to get back to Brett." I'm glad she left when she did, because I'd already started sweating. 

"So what did she say?" I asked when Stacey was out of earshot. "Well", he started. "Firstly, I'm always amazed how easy it is to start a conversation with a woman in the bathroom, as a woman. I just told her that I liked her dress and it was like we were old friends. It's so much harder for men to start conversations." "Yeah, but what did she say?" I asked, getting impatient. "Well I found out that his name is Brett, and that they're getting married in the summer". I felt like I'd been punched in the guts even harder. "Are you sure you want me to go on?" he asked. "Yes, I need to know", I pleaded. "Well...I asked her if she'd been married before and she wasn't too complimentary about you." He continued. "What did she actually say", I asked again. "I don't think this is very helpful, and I don't know if I should tell you", he said with a concerned look. "You don't look well". "Please, I have to know", I begged. "OK. She said that you were a loser and she doesn't know what she ever saw in you, and the only good thing that came out of it was your daughter". I started to feel physically ill "Anything else?" I whispered. "No. That was it. she didn't seem too keen to keep talking about it. The rest of the conversation was just girl talk."

I had to go home. I really felt like I was going to throw up. We shared an Uber and got to my house first. I wanted Shane to come in with me. My emotions were all over the place and I wanted him to come up with me. Maybe I wanted to have sex with him...I'm not really sure. "Please stay over", I said, and grabbed his hand. He looked at me and obviously sensing what I had in mind said "No. I don't think it's a good idea. If you need to call me later, then call, and we can talk. I'll come by for breakfast tomorrow and then we can go to the airport together. But I don't think you're in a good state of mind right now"

The Uber drove off and I went inside and started to sob. I think even after the divorce, I thought that I could get somehow get back together with Stacey, or at least that we could get along well enough to spend holidays together with our daughter. I couldn't sleep that night, and the next day, Shane came over for breakfast as promised, and we got a ride to the airport to go back to San Francisco. I wasn't in the mood for talking, so it was a very quiet trip back.

Back in San Francisco, we had a low key New Years with friends of Chris and Sylvia, and the change of scenery made me feel better. I slipped back into Chris' life, and the feelings I had in Indy seemed like a lifetime away (which it kind of is). One thing I came to realise is that Chris lives a far more fulfilled life than I do. He has a wife, and a social life in a welcoming community, where he is well known and loved. I have my business, my friendship with Shane and not much else. And ever since I realised this not long after occupying this body, it's made me wonder whether I should even go back. The only thing I was holding onto was the hope that I could reunite with my family. Now that this seems impossible, I don't know what the point of going back is anymore. I can't keep this life, because I'm pretty sure that Chris and Sylvia want to come back, and in any case, I don't want to live out my life as a trans man.

I managed to get reservations for the reopening of the Inn, in the same room that we had when we were transformed, which should pretty much guarantee that we're going back to our original lives. But the question is whether I want to.

Aidan/Emilia: "Is This a Double or a Triple Life?"

I've been a bit too busy to write over the past few weeks, for maybe counter-intuitive reasons:  As expected, the retail job at the bookstore cut my hours a fair amount after Christmas, but they didn't let me go.  I was reliable enough over the holidays that they wanted to keep me on, but, obviously, there weren't going to be nearly so many hours.  So I spent my free time looking for work again, and, surprisingly, I found another job within just a couple of weeks.

The catch is:  I'm occasionally bartending, but mostly waitressing.  In a sports bar.

Well, maybe that's not a "catch", but it's obviously something I would not have been considering a couple months ago, so here we are.  I was very reluctant to consider this sort of job during my first go-around, knowing that what I make would be tied to my appearance and willingness to exploit it, even down to outright flirting, and I don't know that it's exactly growth that I'm more willing to put on a tight t-shirt and smile at guys talking to its contents rather than my face.

Which is a different set of problems than the first time I worked as a bartender.  That was when I actually was Emilia's age, rather than just looking it.  The reasons were the same - student loans and rent had to be paid and my other job wasn't full time - but most everything else was different.  The bar I worked in back then was a dive, with a 19" TV in one corner, shitty beers on draft, and not a lot of call for mixing drinks.  A lot of folks at the bar didn't really want to talk, and only a few really tipped more than the one or two spare dollars they had after settling their tab.  Sometimes you had to fight to get them in a cab at the end of the night, knowing that the cost of that was basically coming out of your tip. 

Now?  The place I'm at is nice.  Not quite such that families come for dinner and don't drink nice, but it's clean, well-lit, and we've got a whole bunch of 4K TVs tuned to various games.  All the guys want to talk to me, and being just a little bit friendly earns me more in tips than I make at the bookstore, especially when I'm behind the bar.  There are a ridiculous amount of beers on tap and in bottles, and it's rare to get someone who just wants whiskey-induced oblivion.  Also, between being in New York and how the clientele all has rideshare apps on their phones, I don't find myself fretting about whether someone I've served is going to kill a family of four on the drive home very often. 

The kids were kind of surprised that I'd go for this kind of work after New Year's, but I told them it was kind of their fault; if I could see Kutter determined to not compromise as she lived Katey's life, I could do the same - and also, for what it's worth, I kind of enjoyed talking with that hedge fund guy until I realized I was kind of trapped, and enjoyed the steakhouse on New Year's Eve.  It made me think about how I missed being in male-coded spaces, and how I've tended to cocoon myself in neutral places that sort of tilt female for the past few months:  Bookshops, markets, a gym that took pains to cater to female clients.  Even if the bar we go to for trivia is kind of bro-y, I'm there with a group of women.

Truth be told, the weirdest night there was a few days ago, when a co-worker from the bookstore showed up and saw me there, made-up, wearing that tight t-shirt and black jeans to match, and said he had to do a double-take, because I'm pretty businesslike, wearing loose outfits and light makeup when selling or restocking books.  He asked how long I'd been living a double life, and I laughed, saying at least since August, and if he saw me at home, he'd say it was at least a triple life.  He raised an eyebrow and asked if I wanted him to see me at home, and I kind of froze while trying to figure out how to say no without hurting his feelings.  Fortunately, he laughed, saying his boyfriend would kill him and I let out a sigh of relief.

(Question for the other Inn people:  I can't say I was ever really good at telling whether folks were straight, bi, gay, cis, or trans, or any of the other parts of LGBTQIA+, but I feel like I'm worse at it now.  Does your brain rewiring short-circuit that?  Does living with the kids, who are also in this situation, mess with my baseline?)

Not sure why I said that, though; I've usually got my guard up just dealing with guys who have had a few too many at this job, and have tried to be really careful about not making cute comments about who I really am all along, just because it feels like it might be off-putting and because it might be the sort of thing that trips a person up.  It actually had me a little thrown, and the kids could tell when I got home.

Rusty shrugged it off.  "So what?  I make jokes like that all the time.  Folks look at you funny, you say 'sorry, you had to be there', and you move on, having amused yourself for a couple seconds.  It's no big deal."

Kutter nodded.  "Same.  Although, the important question - is he cute?"

Rusty snort-laughed.  "Oh, man, I hadn't even thought of that angle!  Well, Dad, is he?"

I rolled my eyes.  "I dunno, maybe?  Just mostly young and, you know, gay."  I stopped and thought about it for a second.  "Nah, it's not about that at all.  I think I just worked a long shift and seeing him kind of loosened all the borders between parts of my life."  I got up from the chair where I'd been sitting and headed toward the bathroom, ready to shower and go to bed.

Honestly, I can't wait for reservations to return to the Inn to open back up in a couple days.  Too bad I'm going to have to see this guy at work before then.

-Aidan/Emilia