Dave/Chris: Being cheated on

Well maybe I wasn't exactly cheated on, because Shane told me beforehand, and I even said it was OK, but it wasn't and it hurt...

Shane went with a few of Sylvia's girlfriends on a night out last week. He seems to like dressing up, going out and being one of the girls, and the novelty of being an attractive woman, getting the attention of men has apparently not worn off yet. I've seen it myself, but it's never really bothered me before, because our "relationship" is time limited, and in any case, I never thought that he would take things further.

From what he told me, he met a couple at the bar that they were all at, and started talking to them. At some point, the rest of the girls moved on, or went home, but he stayed and talked to them. The drinks were flowing and a proposition of a threesome was made - I don't know by whom, but it doesn't really matter. 

The next day, he brought it up with me. He said that in the beginning, it seemed to be a joke, and everyone was treating it as such, but the longer they talked, the more serious the invitation was, and by the end, they'd given him their number and tentatively made plans for it this weekend.  He initially thought that he would never call them, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to try it. He said "I know that I'm bisexual right now, and I've been wondering what sex would be like with a real penis. This might be my last chance" That stung, because I'm pretty sensitive about missing my manhood, and still very self conscious about it. He could see my discomfort and put his arm around me. "Look, I didn't mean it like that, but it's something I've wanted to try. If you're not OK with it, then tell me." I wasn't happy about it, but I couldn't say no, because we're not really in a relationship, or at least it doesn't have a future, and I wanted to be supportive and not sound unreasonable.

So on Saturday night he went. I intended to stay home, but couldn't. I needed to do something, so I went out to a bar, and for reasons I can't explain right now, I decided to go to a rough dive bar. I just wanted to go somewhere, where I could sit on my own and get drunk. I've mentioned before that I pass pretty well, but occasionally, I still get identified as trans. Unfortunately, this was one of the times that it happened.

I was downing my 4th or 5th whisky, and noticed a big guy looking at me, then he went and spoke to his friends, and pointed my way. I tried to ignore him, but he was suddenly standing next to me. "This isn't a gay bar", he said threateningly. San Francisco is a pretty tolerant place, but that doesn't mean that everyone is cool with gay or trans people, and unfortunately, the current administration has emboldened these people. I tried to ignore him and turned away. "I'm talking to you....", he said, as he knocked the drink out of my hand, the glass shattering on floor. I looked at the bartender, who just turned and looked away. He came up close to my ear and I could smell the tobacco and beer on his breath. "You have exactly 20 seconds to get the fuck out of here, or I'll kill you", he whispered in my ear. I wasn't exactly in a position to argue, so I got up and left, hearing obscenities and threats about never coming back here again as I walked out the door. I ordered an Uber as I walked a couple of blocks away, shaking the entire time. I was terrified that they'd come after me. Luckily they didn't, but I'd never been so scared in my life.  I got home, still shaking and it took me a good while and a few drinks to calm down. Eventually I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up early to work in the cafe, and Shane still wasn't home, so I texted to make sure he was OK. He replied a little later and told me they were going to have breakfast and he'd be home after that. I didn't see him until later in the day, and I didn't ask him how it was, because I didn't want to know, and he didn't offer to tell me anything either. He did seem to be in a particularly good mood, though, so I imagine that he enjoyed it. I didn't tell him about what happened to me.

I just want to go back to the inn, go home, and leave all this behind...

Marc/Ed: Didn't even have a chance

Christine and I have had semi-regular dinners and coffees since shortly after we met, so I'm not sure why it felt so hard to make plans with her in the wake of our recent dalliance.

Okay, I do know. For the first time in a very long time, I like someone. I like her, but I can't be with her. We are within two months of returning to the Inn, at which point the role of Ed will go back to its originator and I think he would prefer to live out his days alone, looking after Pam and Cayden and Caesar the dog. 

Which is fine. It's great, actually. I do not want him to take up my relationship (such as it is) with Christine. I do not want Christine to try to have a connection with him, thinking he's still me inside. It's an impossible situation that is going to require breaking some eggs to get out of.

So I put off reaching out to her out of self-consciousness about that fact... wanting to see her but not wanting to face the truth, and not knowing how to break it off gently or what I was even going to do or say. And in all this time she didn't really contact me either, there was a frostiness between us and it seemed like we had crossed a line we didn't mean to cross when she spent the night at my place (half naked in my bed.)

You may not think it but that's a memory I will cherish for a very long time...

After a few furtive, fumbling attempts at communicating in the last few weeks, we finally did manage to sit down, and what she said was surprising to me.

"We made a mistake, that wasn't right, this can't happen."

I was taken aback. I was supposed to be the one saying these things, but I felt no relief hearing them out of her mouth. I was confused and a little hurt, even though it was "easier" for me to get it this way.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts and admitted, "I'm sort of on the same page... but I'm curious what makes you think that?"

She sucked in her teeth, like she wasn't sure how to put it. Deep breath, hold, looking around the room, finally she said some generic stuff about "When it happened, it felt great, but afterward something just felt off, and everything that was right about it kind of was tainted, and... well, then there's Pam..."

Pam, huh.

"She's been calling me, asking, more demanding to know what's going on between us, am I after your money, or... or what, and I... I just don't have the stomach for it, Ed."

I was dismayed. This was not the sort of thing that was supposed to come between us. This, to me, was the kind of thing that if you liked someone, you figured it out. And if I were in any position to do so, I probably would have dismissed it and said "Hey, you let me worry about Pam, I want us to explore this" because that's what I wanted. 

"You're a fun guy to be around, Ed. More fun than I would expect for a man your age, no offense. There's life left in you, and I hope that you enjoy your time and maybe find someone else who doesn't get off on the wrong foot with your daughter."

I placed a hand on top of my thinning scalp to absorb all of this, and run it through the filter of what do I think and then what should Ed think.

"I wish we could run away together," I said, perhaps with half a smirk, thinking of the Inn. "Someplace we didn't have to worry about Pam and all that. But that's not in the cards."

"No sir," she said.

We hugged and parted ways and I was left alone, a throbbing ache in my chest. When things ended with Laura it felt different... it was a slow disintegration that I didn't even notice happening so that when we were torn apart by the forces of the Inn we were both ready for it to happen. This was heartbreak. But it was necessary.

I wondered, as someone who is seemingly doomed to a life of wandering through the Inn, if I would ever be in a place to find love again. I literally do not know who I'll be in a year, but who does?

I went home and I thought about it all and I wondered exactly what Pam knew, or thought she knew, about me and Christine, and how. The answer seemed clear. I reached out to John, to ask what exactly he had told his "mom."

"Everything I could reasonably know," he said -- casually, like it was no big deal, "That you gave her money, that I thought I heard she'd slept over... of course I have to pretend like I'm a kid who doesn't know what that means."

"Why would you do that?" I asked, trying to mask my hurt.

"Because I couldn't let you get attached, Marc. I was looking out for you, the same way you looked out for me. You seemed to have some trouble detaching yourself from her. We have to move on, now don't we? I go back to where I came from, you move on to whatever it is you think you have ahead of you... better luck next time. Tell me if I'm wrong, if you honestly can."

I couldn't. It didn't feel good, but it wasn't wrong. The same way he eventually admitted it wasn't totally wrong for me to bring him to the Inn in the first place.

Hard truths. Sometimes it just doesn't work. 

Ande: Shipping Down to Boston?

Is seeing Dropkick Murphys at Fenway Park (well, the connected music hall) on St. Patrick's Day weekend the most stereotypical college male thing imaginable?  Maybe.  But my roommate Griff bought four tickets last fall, but that turned out to be super-optimistic:  We actually lost a roommate over winter break - not lost like "dead", but like "his grades were terrible and he figured maybe he'd be happier as an electrician than an electrical engineer" - who was going to use his second pair, and asked me if I'd be interested.  I wasn't, at first, but Hildy thought it would be a lot of fun.  So we said we'd take them a couple weeks ago, and he put the other one up (purchased for the girl who got back with her high school boyfriend over Christmas) on SutbHub or something, and I didn't think a lot of it.

Then, at around noon on Saturday, I get a text from Mack, saying she's at Alewife, and was I up to anything?  Hildy was doing something with lab partners, and while I had figured on studying all afternoon myself, I was already looking for excuses not to, since it was kind of a surprisingly nice day, so I said why not; we'll meet up at the Common.

I was scrolling on my phone when I heard her call out and looked up and did a little blink.  It's been almost a year and a half since I've seen her in person, and she sure hit me different now that she's seventeen and I've kind of accepted that I'm probably going to live out my life as a man who likes women.  She was wearing blue jeans that had rips up and down the legs from how tight they were, high-top sneakers, a white crop-top and a full-zip hoodie tied around her waist.  Maybe a bit too much makeup, but her short haircut was cute.  "That's not a college-visiting outfit."

She laughed.  "Yeah, like I'm getting into some fancy Boston college!  Nah, just down for a concert tonight."  She grinned for a second like she wanted me to ask what before blurting it out.  "Don't laugh, but I'm seeing the Dropkick Murphys."

I folded my arms, kind of suspicious.  "Really."

"I know, it is so white it has bagpipes, but look at me.  I am in fact just that white, as far as anybody can tell, and not only did a guy in my class put them on a playlist for me, but I should probably make some effort to get in touch with the Irish hooligan roots everyone will assume I have when I go off to Springfield on my own."  She shrugged.  "Besides, Jonah is getting married to a great guy i would have met if I'd been staying with Momma during quarantine, and every once in a while the invitation on the fridge makes me want to scream.  It's good screaming-at-injustice music."

"And you didn't know I was going to the same concert?"

She started to open her mouth to reply, but held it like that for a while.  "I think you might actually have put it on my radar by putting it in the group text, but aren't they playing all weekend?  Anyway, we're probably on opposite sides of the building."  Without it needing to be said, we pulled our phones out and brought out the ticket apps.  She started laughing even harder when she saw we were two seats apart.  "Oh my god, what are the motherfucking odds?"

"Yeah, my girlfriend's going to find this hilarious."

She gave me a look that seemed to be trying to imply she was wiser than her years.  "C'mon, Ande.  I may have been that kind of bitch before, but I haven't been in a long time.  And you're still a kid to me."

"Is that what you thought when you offered to, you know..."

Her eyes went as big as they could, and then she shook her head.  "Damn, I did offer that, didn't I?  I mean, mostly it was about making sure you didn't miss out, but, let's be honest, the teenage part of me did have a crush on you.  You are good-looking and it would be nice to be with someone who knows, but, honestly, I've had three high school boyfriends and it's great fun until they do something that makes me go 'that's so cute', and you're kind of doing that right now."  She folded her arms and smirked.

I raised my hands in surrender, we declared a truce, and then went to find ice cream before hitting Newbury Comics and other places around Quincy Market for the afternoon.

I guess I'm not supposed to find shopping that much fun as a guy, and I know that when I'm getting stuff for myself, I'm kind of happy to just see what's got a good price at Marshall's (when I'm not at home), but i don't know if that's all I need as a straight guy or if I know how much fun I could be having and don't want it to bring me down.  I haven't really had a chance to be "dragged along" with Lindy yet, but I had a good time with Mack, and I don't think that because she was giving me some sort of treat.

Somewhere around or four I texted Lindy that I'd run into a friend who was also going to the concert, so maybe we could grab dinner.  Mack suggested a Mongolian barbecue place after seeing that all of her other go-to places from when she lived in the area were gone.  She was starting to say something about that when Lindy arrived and gave us the look I'd been dreading.  "I didn't realize 'Mack' was a high-school girl."

"Oh, yeah, my family wound up vacationing in her hometown for a couple summers in a row and we wound up hanging out."  It didn't sound weird to me, and Lindy shrugged it off.  Eventually, Griff showed up, we ate, and wound up at the show

Which was a lot of fun!  I'm not sure I would have been into the band as Andi, but Mack's right in that it's the sort of punk you can yell with but still be having fun because, like, the first song of the concert was some sort of Revolutionary War-era thing about making out in the servants' quarters or something like that and they've also done deep-cut baseball songs, although Griff said they didn't do either of the big ones that night (unless you count "Shipping Up to Boston", which, I guess became a pitcher's entrance music because it's about dismemberment).

Griff and Mack hit it off, at least, although I didn't realize how well until I realized Mack was still heading to our apartment while I turned off to head to Hildy's because her roommates were still on spring break.  She had an early morning call with some overseas classmates, so I went back to my place in the morning, where I found Mack making coffee in her crop-top and panties.

"Fun night?"

She smiled.  "Let me tell you, 19-year-old boys don't really know what they're doing, but they can do it all night!  Trust me, I know from both sides of this!  Anyway, want a cup?"  I nodded, and she poured two.

"Cary going to be worried?"

"Nah, he knew I'd be staying over somewhere, probably here, although he'll tell anyone who asks that I found a hotel room when the concert didn't finish before midnight."  She smirked.  "Kind of hoped it would be with you, but you really like your girlfriend."

I stopped drinking my coffee but still held the mug in front of my face.  "What?"

She sighed.  "I'm awful.  I told you, I get frustrated about my boyfriends being kids, but I tell myself that the real problem is I hate lying to them - which, let me tell you, is kind of new, because I absolutely was that bitch the first time I was in high school - and I figured, hey, maybe Ande will get me.  But, no, you're really into Hildy, which is sweet, but, annoying."  She took a sip.  "How do you do it?  Like, ever since that first time at the Inn, I've always been with people who knew I wasn't really the person they see, but now I'm looking at college in Springfield, and while I'm kind of psyched to be the first person in my family to go, even if it's the long way around and Momma and Karla will never know..."  She held out her arm.  "I mean, look how pale I am at the end of the winter.  Am I just going to start thinking of myself as a white chick once I've got nobody who remembers me being otherwise?"

"There's worse things to be."

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that and you're my favorite white girl!"

"Whose dick you were after."

"Right!  Where am I gonna be if I don't have people bringing me back down to Earth?"

I laugh.  "I know.  Maybe you could come to First Thursdays, after you graduate?"  I told her about the regular meet-ups at the Changeling.

She seemed about to say something when Griff came out of his room, and we looked at each other a bit disappointed that we were going to have to start talking like normal people, improvising together on the fly when he asked why we'd never hooked up.  Girff asked if we wanted to do brunch, but Mack said she kind of wanted to drive, so she got her pants on, let me walk her to the Hynes station, and gave me a little peck before heading to Park then Alewife then points north.

I've got to admit, it's been hanging with me the past week, especially when I looked at Andie's pictures of herself in a bikini at spring break and thinking how she really doesn't have much reminding her of her old life when Mom and Dad aren't around, and maybe that's better that feeling I'm lying to Hildy.  It doesn't happen very much - although I kind of wonder how she parses me being happy to talk about my family but not really telling any stories from more than a couple years ago - but it does, occasionally, and, heck, sometimes I wonder what Mack thinks of me always calling her "Mack" when I know she's Krystle, and whether I'll wind up somewhere where I'm just this guy and nothing else to anyone else in a couple years, to the point where I might try and do something I know is wrong to not entirely disappear inside being "Andrew".

-Ande/Andy/Andi

Dave/Chris: Living with ourselves

Shane and I have settled into more of a relationship now. We're still having sex, and now when we go out together, it's like we're dating - I guess we probably are actually dating. We both make more of an effort to look good for each other, we hold hands and kiss sometimes, and the dynamic has changed. What strikes me the most is how much of a woman Shane has become. I'm nowhere near as comfortable as he seems to be, and he changed more than I did. I may have a different body and genitalia, but unless you're looking for it, you can't really tell that my body used to be female. On the other hand, Shane's whole position in society has changed. It's particularly noticeable during sex. Shane seems to love being penetrated, and encourages it, whereas for me, it took some time to adjust, and even though it feels good, and it's really sexy, when we're both at either ends of a double ended dildo, there's still a degree of discomfort for me that I haven't seen in him for a long time.

After transforming at the Inn, I was genuinely shocked to find that I had a pussy, but there was something a bit arousing about it too. But when I tried to play with it on the first night in San Francisco, it just seemed wrong, so I didn't get very far, and blogged about it when I finally tried again. Shane told me that he first masturbated a few days after we got to San Francisco, and I think he's been attending his needs regularly since then.

Aside from this, he moves like a woman, acts like a woman and dresses like a woman. I look, act and dress like I don't know what I am. I had to ask him again if he had ever wanted to be a woman before. He assures me that he didn't, but after trying to fit in as a woman, he found that he could do it, and although he felt awkward in the beginning, he's adjusted.

This made me think. Maybe I should see what it would be like to try on women's clothes, just to see how it feels, and whether I could imagine being comfortable wearing them. Even though my body normally looks quite male, there are parts that also look more feminine, like my hips are wider than most men, and my shoulders narower, so it shouldn't be too hard to see a woman if I dressed myself as one. So one day, when Shane was out, I put on one of Sylvia's dresses, and heels (our shoe size is almost the same). I put on a bra and stuffed it with socks. I have a beard and a very short haircut, so it doesn't look right, and I expected that it would probably look OK, except for the beard and hair. However, when I stood in front of the mirror, everything else looked and felt wrong, and only the beard and hair looked right. I lasted maybe 10 minutes, before I had to take it all off again.

I couldn't see that I would ever be comfortable wearing any of that, even if I tried to get used to it. In this blog, it's well known that people gain their bodies sexual preferences. It happened to Shane as well, otherwise, I don't think he'd want to have sex with a man - even one who has a pussy. But thinking about it, it seems that gender identity must also stay with the bodies we inherit. Although it's never been explicitly mentioned, it seems like everyone on this blog has accepted the gender they're in eventually. Shane has the body of a woman whose gender identity is female, so he's had a much easier time adjusting to having female genitalia, than I have, in the body of someone whose gender identity is male.

I'm very curious to see how Shane adjusts to be being male again in a couple of months, but I think that he'll adjust back quickly, because he also adjusted to being female very quickly, and his "default" state should be male. I want to see how long it takes him to lose the female movements and mannerisms that he's picked up.

I also didn't want to talk about politics again, but I don't think I can get around it. Chris has a passport that's good for another 3 years, and it identifies him as male. When he goes to renew it, then from everything that's happened, he'll get one that identifies him as female. I'm less worried about bathrooms and sport. The focus is not on female to male trans people, like myself, but on male to female. Cindy is freaking out though, quite understandably. She was due to fly to europe for a holiday in summer, which she's now cancelled, because she needed to apply for a passport first, and she would have to travel on a male passport. She was worried about the implications of that at international borders. Nobody can really understand what the point of all this is, but I think if I hadn't been transformed, then I wouldn't care about this - I'm embarassed to say, that I might even have supported it. But having lived this life for the more than half a year, I can see that I'm surrounded by folks who just want to live as well as they can, and don't deserve this. I'm lucky, because I'm going back to my old life in less than 2 months, but everyone else is stuck. I'm almost tempted to tell Cindy to come with us, but I saw what happened to Marc and John.

We're also in uncertain times with our costs. We sell a lot of fresh produce, and have already had to add a surcharge to eggs. The cafe is in an affluent area, and a lot of our customers have money, so they can afford the extra charge, but this uncertainty another reason to be glad that this is almost over. This has been an educational experience, but I'll be happy when I can leave this life. Chris and Sylvia will face a lot of uncertainty when they return to their lives....and I can only say that I'm glad that we have a way out.

Marc/Ed: Spring Cleaning

Now that we're almost at the end of this experience, the dynamic of our little makeshift family has started to change for the positive, much to my surprise. After John's little suspension, and the conversation(s) that followed, tensions between he and I thawed and I can tell hi perspective has changed. Not that I want to justify what I did in bringing him to the Inn -- honestly, it's one of my biggest regrets in life -- but he's certainly made peace with it and is willing to engage me as "grandfather" and also as a contemporary. The lines of communication are open, which is going to make the final stretch of this tour that much more bearable.

Pam, too, as long as I don't mention the name Christine. She invited me to Cayden's bowling birthday party this past weekend. I was up for it, and had fun, but I think it was a little awkward for the kids because a lot of them know something weird happened with Cayden recently but they don't know what it was or what it means. Not that I think it particularly bothered John -- surely he doesn't care about the approval of a bunch of  grade-schoolers, it just made the mood of the party a bit less festive.

I was more worried about keeping up with my fellow adults. It turns out my mind and body have different ideas about what I can do -- I bowled like a much younger man, I was laid up the whole next the day with back pain and leg cramps because of it.

Which sucked, of course, because I was planning on doing some work around the house. I'll admit I have not been in the habit of tidying the place. When I was Chantelle, I kept the apartment almost spotless, because I had energy to burn off after long days of work, and I had other reasons to do so, including but not limited to respect for the woman herself. With Ed, I tried to offer him the same respect but I got a bit behind. Neglecting to dust and vacuum eventually became letting the bathroom become dingy and letting grease accumulate on the kitchen countertops, that sort of thing.

Christine was going to help me, so I messaged her not to bother stopping by, we'd find another time, but sure enough she arrived at my door. I again told her to go home, but she insisted. "You'd probably just slow me down, anyway," she laughed.

So she cleaned and I watched from the recliner and we talked. I let her use her best judgment as to "what goes where" in putting junk away, because I have not really figured out a good organizational scheme for Ed's life. She mentioned she had job interviews coming up, but she had to buy some new clothes because she had gone up a few sizes since her last round of interviews. I laughed quietly to myself -- I don't suppose she'd believe me if I said I knew what it was like having to maintain your figure for fashion's sake.

I told her I'd transfer her a bit more, and she said no, really, she can just find some sales, it's just venting. I reminded her my money's not doing anybody any good, and it's not like Pam is missing out on some big windfall if I give a friend a few hundred bucks. (Again, unbeknownst to either woman, this is not Ed's money we're talking about.)

We ordered Chinese food and split a bottle of red wine, and then another one, and we talked long into the night, her about her late husband, me in code about Laura and other things that had gone on in my life. And we eventually decided that it was not a good idea for her to drive home.

And I only have one bed.

And the couch isn't very comfy.

You know, I've got this voice screaming in my head, "Marc, you have screwed things up enough for one lifetime, or more. Find some way out of this." But I either couldn't, or I didn't want to. We got into bed together, and we just fell into each others' arms and started kissing. That's as far as it went, but she asked if it was okay if she slept without any clothes on besides underwear, and I said, whatever she was comfortable with.

It's kind of funny. It isn't like Christine is objectively sexy and irresistible, but it doesn't matter. When you feel something for someone, their exterior is the least of your concern. You find things to like about them because they are them. I found myself enjoying her pudgy rolls, the droop of her bosom, the lines on her face. Excited to be close to her like this. I wished I could tell her all of this. I like her a lot more than I should, and it kind of hurts.

When I woke up with my arms around her warm, soft body, her breast in my hand, I felt bittersweet. It has been a while since I have been in that situation, and a lot longer if you skip over my fling with John, and it made me sad to think I had no idea where this could possibly lead or what the future could hold.

In the morning, we woke up in kind of a daze, half thinking it was a mistake and half thinking it was inevitable and we should give in. Of course, she doesn't know the full truth of it, which isn't fair to her, but how can I tell her that?

She must have been feeling weird too, because it's not like she kissed me again in the morning, she kind of just put her clothes on and left with a polite "see you later."

We haven't spoken much since.

-Marc

Jonah/Krystle: Yes to the Dress

Just when I think I've totally adapted to being a woman and gotten everything else in my life lined up, my mom barges in on me while I'm in a dressing room stripped down to my bra and panties.

I should have been ready for the possibility; choosing a wedding dress with my moms was always going to involve a lot of stripping down and fewer boundaries than usual, but I've spent so much of my time with my parents and parental figures trying to be either a good girl or boyish - or ideally landing somewhere sexless - that is wasn't really prepared for what an outing focused on their daughter looking good for her wedding would be like at all. 

It just happened this past weekend - my mom was ready to come back the weekend after her vacation, but Momma Kamen wasn't, and then there was Mardi Gras, so they all decided to save a little money and come in after.  I'd done a little poking around various shops, sending emails back and forth to them and our wedding planner, and the place we found was relatively affordable and not afraid of what they saw as kind of short notice.  Two months out for a dress doesn't seem that long, but then, I've never tried to make ilor alter one.

I didn't think I was feeling or acting particularly self-conscious in front of them at first, although I soon discovered that getting into a wedding dress isn't exactly a one-person job as I tried the first one on.  I didn't like it much at all; it had seams that seemed designed to rub my nipples the wrong way, though i was glad the others didn't need to hear that before saying we should see some others.  The second kind of had the opposite problem - it draped off me like a parachute - and I was in the dressing room about to put the next one on when Mom came in with my phone.

I actually did the thing where you try to cover your"breasts and groin with your hands.  "What the heck, Mom?"

She held the phone up.  "It's Moira."

Blushing, i took out and turned to the side.  "Hey, honey...  You okay?"  She was, of course; she just wanted to know if she could go sharing with some of her friends, since I'd told her to call of she wasn't going to stay at Josie's house.  I asked to talk to Josie's mother, who assured me it was a safe parking lot and she'd be watching.  I thanked her, told Moira she could but to be careful, and asked if she had her key to get her skates because Gabe was out.  I turned around and saw Mom still there, staring.  "What?  I'm a good mom!"

"I know you are!  It's just...  I don't think I realized you had all this going on under your clothes.  Why have you been trying to hide it under a wedding dress that could pass as a white tent?"

"What do you mean you didn't realize...  Oh, wait, you've only seen me a few times since I was pregnant, right?  Mostly before I really started climbing, and I wasn't exactly wearing a bikini to June's graduation party."  I turned to look in the mirror.  "Yeah, I guess I look pretty all right, if you're into fit girls.  Although, it's not like the original Krystle is the only person who thinks I should have tiny little smooth waist instead of some abs, and skinny legs.  Other folks say my arms make me look mannish."  I chuckled.  "Not the compliment it used to be."

She snorted.  "White folks, right?"  I half-nodded; it's not just white guys but they do say that more often.  "You look good.  Anyway, get that thing on."

She stepped out of the room, I got changed, and then came out again.  Momma Kamen nodded but Mom said to see if they had anything sexier.  "Let's let Gabriel's family know he's done well for himself!"

I think my jaw actually dropped in surprise.  "If the girls in Sunday School could hear you now!"

"There is a difference between a girl looking to get herself in trouble and making sure the groom's family sees you're a grown woman they can't push around!"

The staff of the shop had apparently heard it all, because they said nothing and just fetched me another dress. I went into the dressing room but soon saw there was no getting it on myself; part of it was a corset and while maybe the original Krystle knows her way around those, I sure don't.  I poked my head out, saying I could use a little help, and Momma Kamen stepped forward, staring Mom back into her chair.  She looked at the laces and started pulling.  "Too tight?"

Surprisingly, it wasn't, although the way it pushed my breasts up felt odd, different even from a push-up bra.  "No, that's okay, I think I can take a bit more."

She nodded, and pulled a couple strings tighter.  "I apologize for Mrs. Glass's behavior.  It was generous for her to get me down here, but that bit about getting into trouble was out of line."

"I mean, she's not wrong.  The moment I found out I was going to have a baby, it sure seemed like I was in trouble."  I took a breath, reminding myself that as far as Momma Kamen was concerned, I was her daughter and my mom was the one who was butting in to her family business, and the night she came to collect me must have been really strange and horrifying.  "She and her husband, they didn't see any of this coming, and sometimes trying to help is a lot like taking charge for them."  It was weird to talk about my parents as a "them", especially with Mom in the next room, so it was probably good that I didn't have both around that often.

I knew it was too much as soon as I looked in the mirror, but dutifully went out and made Mom realize we'd gone too far. It had this big ol' upside-down U cut out of the front which was nice for walking but also pushed the girls up way too aggressively and the lacy gloves were just weird.  I pointed out that some of Gabe's friends might have gone to college in Boston and we didn't exactly want them to suddenly remember Krystle's stripper name in the middle of the ceremony.

We tried another couple before finding one everybody liked, which does show off some deep cleavage and clings to my butt, but is floor length and has got neat sleeves which show off my shoulders.  Kind of a nice veil, which is a weird thing to say.  I'm probably going to have to buy a couple dresses or skirts with the same sort of slit for my legs so I can practice walking in something like that, since it didn't feel totally natural.  The shopkeepers  had some ideas about the wedding-night lingerie which would match, but having my moms there for that was too much.

I've still got another few appointments at the place, both for fittings and to get bridesmaids' dresses sorted out, which is a heck of a thing when one is flying in from Hong Kong and two from Boston, and nobody local aside from "junior bridesmaid" Moira, who is a bit too old for traditional flower girl things.

The dress is apparently going to run something like $1800, which is below average, believe it or not, because Momma Kamen is a fierce negotiator who was able to make it look like I was reluctantly not having quite so many fittings and progress reports rather than being perfectly happy to just pick something off the rack.

We all went out to dinner that night, which wasn't as tense as I thought it might be - Mom and Momma Kamen apparently thought the whole thing was funny afterwards, and I guess I should be glad Moira was there so that Gabe didn't fully hear them roasting me.  Both of them flew out the next morning on the same flight to Boston, though, I noted, on seats at the opposite ends of the plane.

Two and a half months to go.

-Jonah/Krystle

Marc/Ed: Ice cream

Pam didn't contact me for a while after finding out I had floated some money to Christine. I sensed that this prolonged period of silence was colored by a little more animosity and pointedness than her standard periods of not being in contact with her father, although it didn't last all that long in the end, as I got a call yesterday.

"Dad, I'm at work, and I need you to pick Cayden up at school. He's being suspended."

"What?" I gasped, "Why?" Being that I knew that Cayden is, in reality, a grown man (who has his flaws but is generally more or less a model citizen) I had to wonder what this could be about. Fighting? Talking back?

"I don't know the details," she huffed, "They said they couldn't tell me over the phone."

Pam was at least able to say that nobody -- not Cayden or anyone else -- was in any physical peril, which put my mind at ease, but still caused me to wonder. I got to the Principal's office and identified myself as the boy's grandfather, authorized guardian, etc. The Vice Principal -- an older woman (well, I guess that's relative ... older than I used to be, younger than I am now) -- took me into her office and sat me down at her desk. She looked serious but not, I suppose, grave.

"I'm trying to be delicate here, Mr. Levesque, because it's not funny, and of course it does happen from time to time, but the situation cannot go unaddressed."

"What situation is that?"

"Cayden was found... abusing himself in the restroom."

I don't know what my face would have looked like then, but I would guess it to be a mixture of aghast, confused, and a little intrigued.

"Abusing himself? You mean he was..." she looked at me, nodding along, as if she couldn't say it but I had to: "Masturbating?"

"That's right," she said, trying to retain her prim and proper posture. "Kids will be kids, of course, but they do need to be told that there's a time and a place for that sort of thing."

"Of course," I said. The shock was wearing off now and I was trying not to find the whole thing funny.

"You said someone found him," I went on, "In the restroom?"

"Yes, he had, erm... neglected to lock the stall. Whether on purpose or out of... negligence..." I could tell it was paining her to have this conversation, which only made it more amusing to me. I covered my face and snickered into my hand. "The child who found him has been offered counselling, and we've decided to suspend Cayden for the remainder of the day and tomorrow."

"This is really something you get suspended for?" I snorted. "Don't you think the embarrassment is enough?"

"Mr. Levesque, please, there is a code of conduct we expect all students to abide by."

"All right, all right, I'll take him home."

'Cayden' said nothing, staring at his shoes from the office back to the car. We got him buckled in and once we were alone, I asked, "Let's hear it."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, Pam is going to ask me what's up, so I need to at least hear your side of the story."

He let out a very adult grunt, then went on. "Miss Hastings. She's a young teacher, maybe twenty-five, and she's quite... curvaceous."

"Uh huh?"

"'Uh huh' what?"

"Well, how did that lead to...?"

"Do I have to draw you a diagram? You were a straight man in a previous life, right?"

"Right, right..." I said, keeping my eyes on the road, "I'm just looking for insight. I wouldn't have expected this, given you're... well, your age."

"Oh, come on," he huffed, "Let's not be naive. Lots of eleven-year-olds are capable of that, they just don't know it and have no reason to try."

"You're right, you're right," I allowed.

"I've tried to ignore it," he went on, "But you know how it is. You can want to ignore it all you want, but your body has other ideas. It demands you give in to impulse. I had already spent half a day in agony, how much longer should I have held out?"

"Until you got home, at least!" I chuckled.

"It's never been a problem before."

"It's happened before?"

"For weeks now!" he said, as if it should have been obvious. "I keep telling myself I'll stop, but then I remember that it's one of the few outlets I have available to me."

"This is just the first time you got caught."

"I was careless," he muttered.

"And the boy that found you... I'm struggling to figure out why he had to go get the Principal involved."

"Because it was a girl," John grunted.

"Excuse me?"

"The only bathroom available was the single-use one. Gender-neutral. I was in such haste I forgot to lock it."

"You traumatized that poor girl," I said.

"She didn't see anything, I just left in a hurry, and she spotted some of the leftovers and asked someone what it was. Honestly, they need to be teaching that in school, that's something I'll always believe." 

"Unbelievable, unbelievable..." I muttered, pulling into the driveway of his house.

"No, what's unbelievable is Miss Hastings in a tight sweater," he said, laughing under his breath slightly despite himself.

It was beginning to feel like we were -- borderline -- friends, something we actually never were. This is the most like equals we have ever felt, and I could sense that his wall of hatred toward me was becoming that much thinner.

"Hey," I said, "Wanna get some ice cream or something?"

"I'm a 50-year-old man, but... yeah, actually." So I backed back out of the driveway and headed down the road.

(When we got there, he hemmed and hawed analytically over the flavors. The college-aged girl behind the counter said he was a cute kid, and I allowed that yeah, he was like a 50-year-old man in a kid's body. He got pralines n' cream and I got rocky road.)

Over waffle bowls, he asked, "So, you and this Christine woman...?"

"Let's just say you have a more active lovelife than I do."

"Oh, come on," he said, "I know there's something there."

"Maybe," I said, "But I wouldn't want to break a hip."

"Could be worth it," he shrugged.

A few quiet bites later, he said abruptly, "I don't want to go back."

I stared dead at him. "Excuse me?"

"I don't mean I want to stay as Cayden, I mean I don't want to go back to being John. Come on, Ryan-- or Marc, or whatever your name is -- you've been an old man for months now. I wasn't in my 70's, but my life felt like it was just about over. Now I've been reinvigorated. I don't want to be a kid anymore but I don't see how I can go back to being my old self."

"Hm," I leaned on my elbow.

"Hm what?"

"It's just interesting. You had a good life. Why not go back to it?"

He looked down into his ice cream. "I think you know the answer to that, or you wouldn't have brought me here in the first place."

I took a big sigh. "I guess I was hoping to inspire you, to go back to living your life... more truthfully. Or reconcile it somehow. Make necessary changes, or get it all out of your system. It definitely wasn't my intention that you never go back to being John."

"But that was always a possibility -- that was a risk you were willing to take... a liberty with my body, by the way."

"Yes," I nodded along, "John, when I took you to the Inn, I abdicated my sense of logic and I've regretted it ever since."

"No, it was smart," he said, his voice creaking. "You saw what was going on with me and you-- I mean hell, if I knew this place existed I would have run toward it years ago, consequences be damned. I think I just resent you making the choice for me, but from what I understand, informed consent is impossible with the Inn. Okay. I know I won't be Cayden forever... believe me, I'm glad of that, but I don't see how I can go back to being John."

"Give it time, okay?" I said. "We still owe Ed and Cayden their bodies back and as far as I'm concerned that means we go back to being Ryan and John."

"Well, why don't you be John? Stay as long as you like. It'll be nice to settle down. Despite what I said, I'm sure there's a few good years left there."

"Because Ryan still needs his body back too."

"And you don't trust me?"

"I'm cleaning up my own messes, John."

"He said to the mess..." John said, his eyes shifting. Then he actually smiled, as if he had gotten some resolution from the conversation.

We drove back to the house. I told him I couldn't control what he did with the knowledge that the Inn exists, but I admonished him to listen to his conscience. There are people who care about him and that he professes to care about.

"That didn't matter to you when you took me."

"Temporary insanity... and a calculated risk."

"Liberties again," he shrugged. "But you're not wrong, and I hate that. God, just imagining having this conversation with Ryan, no wonder he was irresistible. To John, that is. Cayden... I don't think goes that way."

"No, we have evidence," I chuckled.

We pulled up and I dropped him off and we sent "Cayden" to his room while I filled Pam in on the story (or at least, a tactfully edited version of it). She was moderately scandalized that her little boy was growing up so fast, "I mean, first I catch him reading Stephen King novels, and now this."

"Yeah," I laughed, "He's full of surprises."

I stayed for dinner. We pointedly did not discuss Christine. It was nice.

-Marc

Aidan/Emilia: Ladies Out Celebrating

I wasn't expecting the kids to come into the bar on Valentine's Day, although I'm not sure what else I expected them to be doing.  Neither has a boyfriend (or a girlfriend, I suppose, although they certainly seem to talk about how their bodies react to boys a lot more than how they react to girls); we've all collectively decided that would be a bad idea which was only underlined when we booked our return trip to the Inn in June after making sure that the folks living our lives would be there during the two-week block before us, and they've co-ordinated with the folks living their lives, whose forms have been in limbo since September.  It must be a nightmare to becomes yourself again if you get changed early in the summer!

I didn't quite know what to expect for business that night aside from that.  As I said before, it's kind of guy-coded and not exactly a date location, and on top of that, that weekend was kind of a sports dead zone:  Football over, baseball just starting spring training, the NHL and NBA both doing all-star breaks of sorts which didn't have much on tap for Friday night, and New York City generally has enough big-league action that the only people really watching college sports are alumni and those who also have a gambling app open on their phone.  Still, it was a big going-out night, we had some live music, and folks were looking to fill seats.  I'd expected to be waiting tables, but they've started to like me tending bar.  I'm friendly enough that guys hang around but I'm not one to play favorites or get interested enough to ignore the other customers, and i still jump a little when someone slaps my ass on the floor. 

I was kind of in the zone when Kutter and Rusty came in, found a couple empty seats, and ordered their first beers.  I made a comment about "Galentine's Day" and they asked if I'd just made it up - I think a couple girls their apparent age might have got it but they were about ten when Parks and Recreation ended and never wound up binging it - and they said they were celebrating "Monica's new job".

I must have looked pretty surprised, because Rusty had just been laid off a couple days before.  Her employers had said something about having to tighten their belts with the upcoming tariffs and congestion pricing, but Rusty said she hadn't been landing a lot of new accounts lately; they'd evidently found everywhere in the city that was interested in stocking Chinese energy drinks and expanding into Long Island or Connecticut had diminishing returns.  She'd seen it coming but thought Razzy or Chandra would be let go, but apparently it was last in, first out. 

I'd underestimated how good she was at that job, as it turns out; at some point in the last six months, she had knocked on the door of not just every bodega, but every small business that night have a refrigerator in their break room, including one of those language schools you see advertised on the subway.  She mentioned that she was being laid off during her last call, and they said they had an opening for someone to work the phones and also handle bookings for corporate clien.ts.  They already knew and liked her, and while they couldn't offer the commissions that the beverage company could, the base salary was about the same and she'd be eligible for free lessons.  There is really only time for one session between then and the return to the Inn, she figured she should at least come out of this knowing the Korean alphabet and how to say hello, please, and thank you.

It was kind of interesting observing them on a night out mostly without me - they weren't dressed as sexy as New Year's Eve, but showing a bit more cleavage and leg than when it was all three of us, but they weren't really teasing.  Their attention was mostly on each other, although they were polite when someone paid them a compliment or tried to but them a drink, saying they were just into hanging with their bestie tonight.  A couple made comments about them being more than friends, and Rusty started to respond to the first with something along the lines of "you have no idea" before Kutter kicked her in the shins and said not to encourage anybody.  Rusty got the message and said something along the lines of it being gross, and Kutter responded that it was obviously the case, but there was actually a phenomenon where siblings who had never met or who were separated long enough to not recognize each other were actually more attracted to each other than random people until they found out and society's incest taboos kicked in, and something like that could be at play with the three of us, although maybe in the opposite direction.  Rusty rolled his eyes and asked why Kutter would even be reading anything about that, and she said it was to make sure nothing like that happened.

I'm taking it as a sign of maturity that Rusty did not immediately start acting like Kutter was her girlfriend afterward.

Striking maturity, really, because Rusty's sixteenth birthday was just a couple weeks later, and we celebrated with go-karting and video games at a huge warehouse of a building just outside of Brooklyn, and while I'd been bracing myself for the kids to want to go in rompers or something, it was loose t-shirts, slacks that didn't shrink-wrap themselves to our butts, sneakers, ponytails sticking out the back of baseball caps.  There were bar areas, but we never went there all night.   It wasn't even a bit my idea, either - I asked Rusty what she wanted to do for her birthday, and that's what she said.  I didn't bring it up afterwards - I'll admit, I'm kind of worried that questioning it might make her think she should be even more all-in on being an adult woman until we go back, or being scared at just how well they can partition their lives - but it was really nice to feel like I was doing normal stuff with my teenage boys, even if the kart's seatbelt did find a way of digging into the valley between my breasts.

-Aidan/Emilia