Jonah/Krystle: Unexpected Guest

Well, that was unexpected. 

There was a rehearsal dinner last night, which is a tradition that gets kind of weirder the more you think about it, because at some point it was probably the first time the two families met and they were feeling each other out, but, you know. pleasant enough.  My parents weren't there, just Momma Kamen, and that felt kind of wrong, but they told be a few weeks ago not to worry about this, although I still did.  It ended with us being told to rest up and we mostly did, though Jordan and Moira chose to hang around the hotel bar.

I had one drink with them after sending Little Moira upstairs with Karla and her kids - she was really excited to see her cousins and they were having a kind of slumber party - and when I was headed up myself, I caught some hotel employees trying to rouse a girl who had fallen asleep in one of the chairs in the lobby.  I was about to turn away, minding my own business, when something clicked and I ran over.  I motioned for them to stand back and then whispered "it's Krystle" in her ear.

She bolted upright, pushing her red hair back from the front of her face, and shook her head looking at me.  "This is still so weird!"

I nodded.  "Sure is, Mackenzie.  What are you doing here?"

"Not causing trouble, I promise!  I, uh..."  She looked at the other folks around us and I shooed them away, which made her a lot less tense.  "Okay, I, um, was trying to pay attention in class today, like, really trying, to distract myself, and after second period I decided I just couldn't do it, and called Cory to tell him I had to get down here, just to be here and see it and wish you well.  Mackenzie's too young to rent a car or even buy train tickets, but it turns out it's not just faster but way cheaper to fly from Portland to Atlanta, so Cory got me on the last seat on the plane."

"And you found my hotel how?"

"Cory called Zee who called Ashlyn who knew where Moira was staying.  She wasn't sure about telling him, but since I was already on my way..."  She half-smiled.  "It sounds absolutely insane, I know, but how could I not be at my own wedding?"

I had a funny feeling looking at her just then.  Inside, I know Mackenzie, the original Krystle, is the exact age I appear to be, obviously, while I often think of myself as the teenager i was when I checked into the Inn.  At that moment, though, she seemed genuinely 17, and it was my responsibility as a more mature adult to understand the big emotions she was feeling, and to give her some grace. 

So I did.  "I'd actually be really glad to have you there.  After all, even if you barely remember Gabe, I probably don't meet him without him remembering you."

She smirked.  "You owe me so much."

"I really do.  Can I start with dinner?  Or a room?  You weren't planning to hang around the lobby all night were you?"

She shook her head.  "Da-- Cory booked me a room here too, but--"  Her stomach growls on cue.  "Maybe a snack."

We got some calamari for her and a white wine for me, and then found it awkward at the table, so we wound up texting across from each other.  Initially I was telling Jordan not to look in an obvious way but that Mackenzie was at the table with me, and would she make sure she got to the right place the next morning?  Also, if Dominic wasn't coming, was it okay if she took his place at the reception?  When she said yes, I sent texts to the wedding planner about the change.  Eventually, though, we found few folks up that late, and just kind of staring at each other.

She chuckled when she noticed my breasts resting on the table a bit as I leaned forward.  "You know, it's been so long I can barely remember what it was like lugging that rack around.  Like, I was happy when my boobs finally came in, and jealous of some of the girls who got bigger, but I kind of love dancing more now that it's not all about them swinging around and guys staring at them.  Is that weird?"

"Nah.  I mean, I kind of hated them until I was nursing Moira and they finally seemed useful rather than just in the way.  Although, man, when they were pregnancy/nursing-sized... Ugh!"  We laughed as I sat back up straight.  "Okay, if we're going to talk about this stuff...  What's it like being white?"

She blushed a bit, then started nervously twirling a bit of hair.  "It's weird.  Like, you've had to deal with how I didn't finish high school, and I kind of brought the same attitude the second time around, but people didn't give up on me.  I don't know how much of that is a better-funded school and how much of it is people seeing me as having potential rather than being a lost cause.  It's not easy or anything, because people shit on girls and foster kids and it's not like Cory is rich enough that I can have everything my classmates do, but I kind of feel like I'm fighting one less thing."  She shrugged.  "It's not like I'm some sort of big Swiftie or anything, though.  Might be easier if I was, because liking the music and movies I like and doing hip-hop dance marks me too.  And sometimes I forget that this isn't what I grew up thinking of as normal, the first time.  At least until the crazy-hot guy on the basketball team doesn't even think redheads are cute!"

She yawned then, and stood.  "Well, I guess we should get to bed.  You've got a busy day tomorrow!"

I nodded and rode the elevator with her awkwardly, getting off first.  I have to admit, I gave myself a closer look than usual as I undressed and did my evening skin-care routine, wondering if she'd seen anything that she decided she didn't want back from how civil and friendly that had all been.  Or maybe we'd just both been who we were for long enough that being someone else felt like a lot of effort.

I slept pretty fitfully, which is why I'm up and at my laptop so early.  But I think that's just wedding-day jitters - "I dos" are only a few hours away, and I'm probably going to spend most of that time getting ready.

-Jonah/Krystle

(Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, she's asked me to call her Mackenzie when I talk about her, even though I try to use everyone's original given names and like that Jordan writes about me as "Jonah".  She says she doesn't want me to doubt myself, and certainly seems sincere enough about that.)

Jordan/Yuan-Wei: My First Real Bachelorette Party

STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER, JONAH, OR DO YOU WANT TO EXPLAIN WHAT I'M WRITING TO THE NORMIES?

I'm just going to leave that up there, because I'm writing this on the bus that's taking the bridesmaids from New Orleans to Atlanta, including the adorable junior bridesmaid.  She's probably the one I have to worry about snooping the most, but I'm sure Jonah will tell little Moira not to bother Auntie Jordan if she tries to stand on her seat and read over my shoulder. 

"Auntie Jordan".  I do not feel old enough to be an auntie, even acknowledging that becoming Yuan-Wei made me physically younger by a few years.  And on top of that, should I be this kid's auntie?  Am if really that close to her mother? 

I mean, even when we both lived in the same city, we didn't hang out a lot.  I was a well-off college girl and she was working the service economy, and even when you feel you're not supposed to be on those positions, you don't form friendships along those lines.  Heck, when or paths crossed at the Inn, I made fun of him. I basically hired him/her to housesit while I was on a trip, was all.  We were kind of allies more than friends, really. 

But a funny thing happens when you move to the other side of the fucking world (or country) and there's nobody else to talk to about this big, weird thing in your life which keeps being weird even though you should have gotten used to it.  Those messages become a lifeline and I probably tell Jonah more than I do Annette or my brother Max, even though they've been through it.  They've gone back to things being normal, mostly, but we're fellow long-haulers, sharing something others can only half-understand.  We're gonna want each other right at hand for stuff like this. 

Of course, I say that like yesterday was some sort of fucking hassle rather than a blast. 

It was a long flight from Hong Kong to NOLA, but I flew first class (I don't throw money around much, but definitely do for that), and the folks at the airport were only a little racist and willing enough to believe that being from Hong Kong was different than being from China (it is and it isn't these days).  Nice rideshare to the hotel to drop luggage off because I was there before check-in time and then to Jonah's place, and a big hug when I got there.  I was first, but just barely, and Moira and Karla arrived on the same plane soon after.

This isn't my first bachelorette party.  Aside from the one for Chen-Ai/Bingbing that played like a weird celebration of things she'd acquired to me, and new-Chen-Ai's which was a small affair most notable for he announcing her new English name, I've been invited along with a couple friends and co-workers since settling here.  But the vibe was different from the get-go.  Jonah and I had a little time to gush like teenage girls about how happy we were and how strange it was that it was happening this way before the Boston contingent arrived, and then it was fun as we pulled out our party dresses and did each other's hair and makeup (I had never realized just how much white and black people could find themselves envying my hair!) and got ready to go out for dinner.

I forget exactly where we went for dinner - Jonah says it's almost impossible to have a bad meal here - but I had red beans & rice with alligator sausage and loved it.  It's definitely local, but also feels a lot like the Chinese-American fare that I grew up on and which kind of horrifies Chinese folks who visit America, although the five is also Hong Kong, straightforward meals with basic ingredients and no shame that you're fuckin' wolfin' it down.

The conversation over the meal was really fun, too, because while we've all met on one occasion or another, what we've got in common is that we know and love "Krystle", and while Moira is the one who has the most stories - sure, Karla does, but Jonah is often laughing like they're all new to her, and they may be - and we've all seen her when she wasn't sure of herself and are all impressed at the person she's grown into.  We wind up having more in common than we think at times, too - both Moira and I can talk about coming to new countries where we speak the language and mostly know the culture but finding it daunting, and I had no idea that Karla was a big manga & anime fan who had just been doing some sort of matching cosplay with her oldest at Anime Boston the weekend before.

After that, there was music, and bars, and more music and bars as we went up and down Bourbon Street like complete fucking clichés, including late-night beignets because Krystle said we had to do it.  We sang and had random folks toast  "Krystle" and had a bunch of people say we looked sexy and, hey, we weren't the ones getting married, so could they buy us drinks?

Nothing happened, of course, and the folks at the hotel's front desk apparently have beaucoup experience checking folks who dropped their luggage off fifteen hours earlier in after midnight.

The alarm came much too early in the morning, it seemed, but either Jonah or Karla had anticipated the condition we'd be in and booked a minibus and a driver to get us from New Orleans to Atlanta where everybody but me and Little Moira would be meeting our boyfriends, because Dominic ultimately decided he wasn't making a trip to America under the current conditions.  It's about seven hours, which isn't too bad considering airport nonsense and other things like us being hungover enough to mess up all sorts of things.

Which brings us up to now, somewhere in Alabama.

-Jordo

Emilia: And I Guess That's That

Just got confirmation - the folks living our old lives did not return to the Inn, but folks changed, so now they've got another set of new people in their lives and we can't go back to become ourselves again.  Me and my sons Kutter and Rusty are going to be Emilia, Katey, and Monica for good, or at least as much as anything can be "for good" with unexplained phenomena out there that can change every aspect of your life.  The kids and I are all kind of terrified, but there's a kind of relief in only having to worry about one life again.

Up until the last minute, I didn't think it would turn out like this.  Annette and others warned us things go wrong fairly often:  She says she knows through her friend Jordan that there are people out there who think the Inn has a purpose and that purpose is to mix people up, injecting new perspectives into different parts of society to hopefully break down barriers, and they maybe try to keep that happening.  They aren't really that effective, most of the time, and she thinks it's more like that whatever spell or curse is on the Inn was originally trying to fill a hole but is in a constant state of turning around, seeing that the dirt they used to fill that hole has created another hole, and then trying to fill that.  But, as she pointed out, we were in an uncommonly good position - we could get to the Inn and if anything looked off, we could just walk away, knowing we could handle these lives and nobody was coming back for them.

It didn't get that far, though.  The three of us all talked to our counterparts in our old lives after the talk, and just like the kids, they all felt like they could not just make do in their new lives, but thrive, once they realized that nobody was counting on them going back.  For new-Aidan's kids and mine, the past year was such a huge part of their lives and memories that going back might be stranger than staying put, and she felt like she had more regrets and things holding her down in her real life than as me.  Once we knew that they would take care of our old identities, rather than random people skipping in and out, it felt easier to stay these girls.

And I soon realized that's where the kids' heads were at, and it was me who had to adjust my thinking.  I knew that they could readjust, just from how well they adapted to being Monica and Katey; kids are adaptable and their generation seems to be more flexible in terms of identity than mine was.  They at least have the vocabulary for it and often examples in their own lives of people who are different, more than I did at their age.  Kutter and Rusty have had that flexibility tested more than most, but they've been able to accept their situations as they were rather than just rejecting them.  Even though they are still my sons when we're at home, they are not pretending outside of it, but just living the lives they have.

I needed to stop looking at them just as the boys they should be, or the men they could be, but the women that they are.  And they're incredible.  If I had always had daughters like Katey and Monica, I would be so proud of them, and I'd want to see them continue to pursue what they love, and trust them to know who they are.

So we're going to do that.  I'm still very nervous about it, because even if they have the bodies of 23-year-old women, they are still only 16 and 17.  I can tell myself that the teenager as something distinct from adults and children is a relatively modern invention, that a hundred years ago they would be considered adults, and that we still kind of glorify boys that age who lied about being older to serve their country or are otherwise whiz kids who dropped out of college or even high school to get a head start on their ambitions, but they are still probably going to be naive and inexperienced relative to their peers in many areas.  

They're going to need a big sister as much as a father, and so as a father, it's my duty to be that big sister.  So that's where I'm focusing my attention, making sure that Emilia is the most supportive sister and best friend that Katey and Monica can have.  I'm also going to try to be the best Emilia I can be, because if I do my job supporting the kids (bear with me, I can't quite call them just "roommates" yet), they're going to build lives of their own and I'll have to do the same.  I've got a full life as Emilia ahead of me, probably more time than I've had as Aidan by the time I reach its end.

I'm not even going to try to be the Emilia I see in her old social media, super outgoing and feminine, playfully posting pictures in swimsuits and microskirts.  I'll probably a dork who likes things that were before my time, prefers beer to cocktails, gets season tickets to the Mets or the Yankees when I can afford it, and a bunch of other male-coded stuff, and enters into relationships with men very tentatively, at least at first (although I still have a hard time seeing that changing).

But I'm also going to try to do that on my own, just being the Emilia that comes naturally, as opposed to worrying about being an "Inn Person", or looking over my shoulder to see if I'm doing it right, so this is my last post on this blog, barring emergency.  I want to thank everyone who has given me advice and encouragement along this journey, and for everyone else in this situation, I hope that we all find a way to be able to live and thrive as ourselves, whether that's our original lives or who fate allows us to become.

-Emilia

Jonah/Krystle: T Minus Eight Days

I'm getting married next week.  To a man.  It's absolutely insane, when you think about it. 

On the other hand, it's crazy how not insane it is.  I thought that I would be back to posting here weekly with all sorts of "all these weird girl things around the wedding are crazy and I haven't felt more like I shouldn't be here since I pushed a baby out of my body" rants, but it hadn't worked out that way.  Probably not because I've become a woman all the way down to whatever deep, feminine part of the brain yearns for pretty dresses and professions of undying love, but because we appear to have hired a pretty good wedding planner.  She knows her job and neither Gabe nor I have much on the way of bridezilla (or groomzilla) tendencies.  She'd give us a list of options, we'd look them up on Yelp, and if we didn't immediately agree, and one of us had a reason to care - like, say, better vegan options for Gabe's cousin - it seldom ran up against issues for the other.  Heck, I even came to kind of enjoy the dress fittings.  Sure, some of it was boring enough that I occasionally wished they had ESPN on like they do at Gabe's barber shop (or even Lifetime), but having a dedicated specialist make sure I'm the most beautiful I can be is kind of nice, especially if you grew up a guy and can be uncertain about this topic rather than a girl who has been obsessing over her wedding being perfect since she was a 4-year-old flower girl. 

I guess what I'm saying, Inn girls, is to outsource this stuff whenever you can! 

Even if I was more lost at sea amid all the preparations, though, I probably wouldn't have had time to write about it.  It seems like every time I take a couple days of time off, I've got to train some assistant manager to handle all of the stuff that I typically do, Moira decided she wants to do youth basketball, and Gabe has been all over, asking how he can help with everything and extra amorous with the wedding approaching, which is great, but doesn't give me a lot of alone time.  Maybe that's for the best - married couples are gonna be up in each other's business - but I am already kind of enjoying this long weekend where he's in New York with his friends for the bachelor party. 

My biggest hassle right now is the bachelorette party.  I know, it's usually the Maid or Matron of Honor's job, but when considering the choice between Boston, Atlanta, and New Orleans for any sort of party, let alone one for an ethnically mixed group, NOLA was the clear winner.  Atlanta may be very nice, but none of us really know the place, and I can at least bike by places Karla finds here to scope them out. 

Yes, Karla is Matron of Honor, in part because I wasn't sure Jordan or Original Moira would be able to make it and I didn't want to do "instead of your sister?" stuff.  We've been getting along well lately, at least, although I'm kind of alarmed by how sparsely populated my side of the church will be compared to Gabe's.  Shouldn't I have more friends?  I'm a nice person!  But, then, I'm also a technically-still-single mom who has moved a couple of times.  I've got coworkers and maintain good relations with Moira's friends' parents, and they'd go to my wedding if it was local, but not to Atlanta.  Gabe's got a bunch of friends from high school and college coming, but apparently a lot of Krystle's high school friends are holding grudges and mine are white folks five years younger than the age on my new passport who would be difficult to explain.  I sent save-the-dates to them all anyway, figuring we could say they were friends of Jonah's (true!) that were more help when I was pregnant and a new mom than my baby daddy (an exceptionally low bar!), but even the ones who texted me back saying they were excited and happy for me (mostly girls) had long put even thinking about the cursed Inn behind them.  Maybe being married will lead to couple friendships, or I'll just stop worrying about it again once this isn't staring me in the face any more.

Of course, the one person who didn't RSVP at all is the one that's been the central figure in my most frequent nightmare of late.  That'd be Joseph, my roommate at the Inn who got changed into Krystle's boyfriend Lamont and wound up serving the rest of his sentence.  Of you remember, he got really upset when I showed up dressed nice because I figured he might enjoy a night out with a pretty girl when he was released, and really freaked out when I discovered I was pregnant.  In my nightmare, the wedding is going well, until he bursts in at the "should anyone have any reason" moment, announces that I'm really a man, and because it's a life-changing moment, everyone believes him, and it turns out that Gabe, his while family, Moira, and everyone is way more homophobic than I thought and turn on me.  I wake up on a cold sweat and tell Gabe I don't remember my dreams. 

But I do, every one of them.  There are a ton where we for some reason book the Inn (or someplace similarly cursed) for it honeymoon and most of the time I wake up as my old self and he's Krystle, or some other woman, and that can go either way but is usually kind of fun, but one time I woke up as Mackenzie and he was this giant roided-up version of himself with the intention of punishing me for stealing Krystle's life and lying to him, and I'm glad I woke up before the worst.  One time it was months later, and he was still a man, but I somehow got him pregnant on the honeymoon! 

I'm not reading anything into it, other than the Inn giving my subconscious more to work with when anybody would be having stress dreams.  It's gonna be great!

But, yeah, even with a good planner, I'm really expecting after the wedding to be much better than these weeks before it.

- Jonah/Krystle

Aidan/Emilia: The Talk

Even before typing out that last entry, I taped notes saying "Family Meeting Wednesday Evening - Very Important!" to the kids' bedroom doors, pre-ordered some pizza, and then went into my bedroom to write something and wound up asleep fairly soon after.  I had an early shift at the bookstore, anyway, with a little bit of time to buy some extra soda after work.  The kids arrived back from work at around 5:30, and asked what was up.

I felt like I should have a presentation ready, but it hadn't seemed appropriate the night before.  "Okay.  As you guys know, our reservation at the Inn starts on the 5th of June, just a little more than two weeks from now.  New-us will be arriving there Saturday morning, which is a risk, but they're trying to minimize you guys having much to make up in the last few days of the school year after their 'family emergency'.  Have they been sending you classwork to catch up with?"  They nodded; as I kind of expected, Kutter was nodding along more with the details.

"Okay, so, that leaves a question of what we do.  I'm working two jobs part time, so I can probably say that I've got a family emergency back home and they'll either say they're sorry to lose me or ask me to say when I'm back.  You two, though..."

Rusty groaned.  "Ugh, I can't wait to get home, but i kind of hate the idea of quitting.  Seems like that's what makes sense, though."

Kutter nodded.  "Yeah, the folks in the office are going to think it's weird if I quit, especially if the new Katey sticks around the city but doesn't find something soon, but I've really only got enough PTO to get through us staying at the Inn, let alone for the person who turns into Katey--"

Rusty rolled her eyes.  "You've got a chart, don't you?"

"It's a perfectly reasonable thing to figure out!"

I held up a hand to keep this from going further.  "I'm glad you guys decided this on your own, because, obviously, I can't really tell you to quit your jobs."  There was an awkward silence as I decided whether I should just stop there and accept a good outcome, but I couldn't quite do it.  "There is one more thing you should know, Kutter, about your job:  If you don't quit, Katey will almost certainly get an official  promotion to Social Media Manager."

The kids both started talking at once, to me and each other, the gist being that this was amazing but how did I know.  I have them a just-the-facts version of my conversation with Annette.  Their eyes bugged at actually knowing another person who had stayed at the Inn, and they wondered if that meant Kutter had vibed with her in some unconscious way. Eventually, though, Kutter turned to me and asked why I was telling her this; wouldn't she be better off not knowing? 

"Maybe, for you, for now.  But you'd have found out someday, and I don't know if you would forgive me for treating you like a child after how much I've counted on you acting like a mature adult for this whole stretch.  I'm not sure I can carry that around, myself."

Kutter nodded, dejected, and it was quiet before Rusty interjected.  "Like, don't let me stop you!  I know you really want this!"

I shook my head.  "No.  We're not going home and having a series of strangers posing as Kutter until they graduate college, and we're not leaving your brother here on his own."

"Fine.  I'll stay too."

Kutter turned her head.  "You can't do that - think of all we'll miss!"

"What?  Prom?  Taking six years to get back to the point where we'll be able to apply for jobs we love and already know how to do?"  Rusty tucked a bit of hair that had fallen in front of her face as she whipped it between me and Kutter behind her ear.  "And that's if we can get back to this point, assuming other-Kutter and other-Rusty haven't left our transcripts a mess but it doesn't matter, because student loans and scholarships are no longer a thing!"

I folded my arms.  "Rusty, there's no need to panic about that.  The girls have been doing great filling in for you, and I will make sure you can attend college."  She looked down a bit, knowing this was true.  "But why this sudden change of heart?  Were you just telling me what I wanted to hear the other day?  Are you just telling Kutter what she wants to hear now?"

"No, I just..."  She sighed.  "I don't know, I'm usually pretty excited about being myself again, but then I remember how I used to get picked on just for being short, and wonder if it will be worse if I can't shake a bunch of Monica habits or if I'm not ready for how people think of me after a year of other-Rusty.  I guess I want to go back but wouldn't exactly be upset if I couldn't."

"Okay, I understand that."  I turned to Kutter.  "And how do you really feel?"

"Kind of the same?  I mean, yeah, I'm tilting a little more to wondering what that new job would be like, but half the time I feel like I'm not qualified for what I do and that would just be even more.  Still, though, I want to be myself again.  Sometimes I feel like I'm losing who I really am inside Katey, or wondering if there's no 'who I really am' because I'm not really imitating some real Katey, but just being myself, and that's kind of scary.  But, also, if it turned out that other-Dad didn't want to break up with her new girlfriend, I could manage."

I admit, I groaned at the thought of just how long my counterpart had kept things going with a co-worker I hadn't been particularly fond of.

"Anyway, you always said a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and I have to admit, what you're saying makes me wonder which is which in this case.  Maybe I should ask Ms. Grayson how likely things are to go wrong with the Inn, in her experience."

That caught me a bit flat-footed, because for as much as I've learned to fake being Emilia well enough, it's never seemed like the better option for me individually, let alone for us as a family.  That they could suddenly see bright futures as Katey and Monica made sense, though, and I wondered if I would feel the same way if I hadn't been looking for things I could easily leave behind from the start, or if a good situation had found me.

At any rate, I expected to come out of that family meeting with definite plans of how to leave these lives behind, not a promise to ask Annette and any other Inn people what seemed like the right move over the next few days.

-Aidan/Emilia

Marc/Ryan: Parting Ways

I won't keep you in suspense. Yes, John and I are both "back where we belong," as it were. As Dave indicates in his post, it happened the night after I last posted. I awoke feeling lighter and less achey than I had since last fall.

Once we got through the astonishment that our crazy plan worked and I did not end up in John's body and vice versa, or some more chaotic third option, he and I took a moment to breathe. 

Early in the morning, I could hear some frantic chatter in the halls. Someone knocked on our door, I answered and saw a panicked-looking woman. After dressing in the clothes my past-self had left back in September, I agreed to address the group, explaining what I could about the Inn's curse and the added wrinkle that all of these people's "lives" had been on hold since September. Six of the people who had come were on a bachelorette getaway, and then there was a trio of other returners who also succeeded in reclaiming their bodies (or at the very least, seemed okay with the results.) Tallying things up, I realized that not a single person from this group went from male to female, which I think is an interesting stat. 

I handed out some contact information where -- assuming I have access to technology -- I can be reached in any identity, as well as highlighted this blog as a resource. I made sure to indicate that this was not forever, and while returning to your original life took some effort, it was very doable and seems to happen often enough.

John said little, but after we retired to our rooms, he expressed admiration for my poise. I reminded him I've done my fair share of public speaking.

A moment later, another forceful knock on the door. It was the bride-to-be, who was obviously taking things very harshly. She had become a very fetching woman. Her maid of honor was in tow to try to console her. She had become the woman's husband, a burly, bearded fellow who looks like he either works construction or tends bar at a hipster joint, and I was jolted by how quickly my Ryan-ness had asserted itself when I found myself admiring "his" looks more than the bride/wife. Over time, we were able to talk the bride down, but I tried to let her have space to feel her feelings. John, for the most part, sat in the corner scrolling through his phone, seemingly taking stock of what he was going back to (occasionally murmuring a displeased "oh, dear.")

After the initial chaos died down, the Bachelorette girls circled up together, and the family of three sorted their business out, and I felt ready to leave. John and I shared a ride down to New York. He was a little guarded -- when I asked him how he felt about going back to Mary, he only said "we'll see what we see," with a noncommittal shrug. He asked me why I didn't go back to being myself, and I sort of told him there was baggage there I simply didn't feel like I could face, which only partly concerns my ex-wife.

"Okay, before we go, I've got to know... what did you really look like?"

I showed him a picture of my old self, and he gave a very neutral nod, which to be fair is all my original life merits. Then I showed him a picture of Chantelle.

"She's quite pretty. I'll bet you had a good time once you got used to it."

I smiled self-effacingly. "I have some good memories and some bad memories. Less about the body, more about the life. As a man, you think, I could never enjoy being a woman, but... well, you'd be surprised. Surprised the most by how little it matters compared to other things."

John nodded, as though this provoked some thought in him -- and why wouldn't it? I sometimes forget, I have experienced something very strange and interesting.

"It's very surreal to me to know that I never really met Ryan," he said as we neared the city. "To know that the face you're wearing right now is someone else's. I have a lot of feelings about that and it's going to take a long time to resolve them." He had this strange smirk, a glint in his eye that I kind of liked -- because it seemed to indicate that, no matter how unethical and wrong my choice to bring him to the Inn was, it seems to have sparked something in him that he needed.

Or maybe I'm just projecting.

We parted ways with a friendly, chaste hug. I felt this weird compulsion to say "Don't be a stranger," which made us both laugh because it's probably best if we become strangers from here on out.

After that, I landed at Ryan's friend's apartment -- I had made arrangements for his return from "Florida" after letting his lease lapse during my absence (all his stuff is in storage, something I accomplished as sort of a weekend project when I was Ed... which was way more grueling than I thought it would be, but worthwhile) and took a shower.

Two months until I return and find out what the next next part of my life looks like.

-Marc/Currently Ryan

Aidan/Emilia: Under Our Noses All Along

I had just gotten behind the bar for happy hour last night when someone vaguely familiar came in, sat down at the bar in front of me, and nervously ordered a beer.  She took a couple of quick sips, looked up at the TVs without actually watching any of them, then drained the glass, banging it down on the coaster. 

Odd, I thought.  "You want another?"

She shrugged.  "If I have to in order to sit here."  I said it wasn't that busy yet, and she nodded silently a couple times before chocking her head.  "Do you recognize me?"

I looked at her for a couple seconds.  Not a regular, more a downtown type, thirty-ish, wearing a jacket that matched her skirt and camisole, nude stockings, and knee-high boots with two-inch heels, the sort of outfit that Kutter tended to favor these days, and that's what did it.  "You work with Katey; I saw you at trivia a couple weeks ago."

She named and and reached out her hand.  "Yes!  I'm Annette Grayson, and I need to talk about your son!"

My brain froze as I shook her hand.  "Nice to meet you, but, uh..."

"Katey's your son Kutter, right, and you're Aidan?  I don't have the wrong Emilia, do I?"

"No, that's me, but how?"

She grinned nervously.  "I stayed at the Inn about ten years ago, just before starting college.  Spent a few years as a couple different guys until I get back to my real life, putting it on the blog, though I basically stopped once my life got normal and I figured this maybe shouldn't be the first thing someone sees when they Google me.  Then my friend Jordan forwards me one of your posts talking about Katey's boss Ms. Grayson like 'this you?' and I'm like holy shit, we've had a teenager running our office for the past seven months!"

I give a pinched grin.  "Well, you could have had me."

She shall as she shrugged.  "I mean, her social media skills were a lot better!"  She paused for a second.  "Is it weird that I'm calling her 'she' and 'Katey'?  I mean, I try to respect everyone's identity--"

"They'll be shes for the next few weeks."

"Right.  Anyways, it just made me more impressed with her, and as you know, we all love her, and, well, the boss wants to promote her to social media manager for us and two other imprints."

That stopped me kind of flat.  "Oh. Wow."

"I know, right?  And I can't think of any reason he'd believe for why he shouldn't!  Katey has been fantastic and deserves this, but the next Katey could be a cranky septugenarian who just gave up her landline a year ago.  I don't know how much you know about the publishing business, but that could be a huge hit to us."

"So, what are you saying, that you want Kutter to stay?"

"No, of course not!  If anything, you should probably convince her to give two weeks' notice before she's offered the job. I mean, I'm her boss, but I'm terrible at that part of the job - the last time I suggested that someone might want to investigate an alternate career track given how volatile publishing is, we nearly wound up in arbitration - and, I don't know, maybe as her dad you've got some easy of putting it that makes her feel more mature..."  She groaned and looked at the ceiling for a moment.  "I sound ridiculous."

I shrugged.  "It's hard not to sound ridiculous when talking about that place."  She was looking at her glass, so I asked if she wanted another beer or something stronger. 

"Oh, this calls for whiskey." I obliged, and she downed it and twisted her face.  "I shouldn't be dumping this on you, this is part of my job, not yours, but you know what the fucked up thing is?  I would totally keep Katey on, even knowing what I know.  How irresponsible is that?"

I didn't have an answer, and enough other people were coming in that i couldn't stick by her part of the bar and talk to her.  A couple drinks later, she left, putting a fifty-dollar tip under her coaster. 

I've got no idea how to talk to Kutter about this.  It feels like it should be straightforward, but who knows how she's going to take it? 

-Aidan/Emilia

Dave: Back to normal

It happened on Wednesday night. I slept through the whole thing, and I think Shane did as well, but when we woke up, we were ourselves again. The first thing I did was put my hands in my pants, to welcome an old friend. Shane was in his bed, and I could see him running his hands over his flat chest. We danced around, high fived, and cheered, which was in contrast to the yells of shock and despair that we heard coming from other rooms.

The first thing I did was pee, and to be able to put that seat up and stand again almost made me cry. We gathered our belongings and wrote our letters, just in case something went wrong and Chris and Sylvia didn't make it back. As soon as we were done, we left the inn. There were still a few days left on our reservation, but we really wanted to just get out of there. I don't know if there is any chance we would be transformed again, but we weren't taking any risks. When we got to the airport, we managed to book a last minute flight back to Indy, paying far too much. I don't think either of us cared, though.

Now we're back at home, going back to our lives, and I'm very motivated to try to make things better. I realise now that I'd been existing more than living in my original life, and I really need to repair some relationships to make things better. I'll take a few days first to just take stock, and then reopen my business and get back to work on Monday.

Maybe I'll give you guys an update to let you know how things worked out in a few months, but I don't know if there'll be much to report, so this could be the last post from me.

It's certainly been an experience I won't forget...

Marc/Ed: The Cost of Goodbye

God bless the independent spirit of Maine, where even someone as hard-edged as Pam will think "Sure, take Cayden on an open-ended fishing trip in the middle of May -- he'll learn more with you than he would at school." The teachers sent along some homework, which John has dutifully been working his way through. He wants to be kept busy but is not particularly interested in treating this as a "vacation" -- we've hardly left the Inn, although I've been out for supplies, feeling weird about leaving an 11-year-old boy in a room by himself even for an hour. I saw Dave, briefly -- he and Shane were here the last time I was, but at the time I was pretty focused on what was going on in my room and was a little uncomfortable making contact with other guests. 

I was insistent that Cayden and Ed spend Mother's Day with Pam, to John's annoyance. "Do you know how confusing it's been to have to behave as though this stranger is my mother? To let her control me and monitor me this entire time?" Of course I do. But in my opinion, Pamela is a good mom and deserves flowers and appreciation, and we certainly haven't made it an easy year for her.

It's not a long drive to Old Orchard Beach, but we set out early yesterday and made it in time for a diner breakfast. After settling in, we had a lot of time to sit, play cards, and talk about things: where we've been, where we're going, what's next.

"There's a chance this goes wrong," I noted, "It happens, and if so, we'll adjust, but I'm going to make every effort to ensure it's right. We have to sleep every night the way we did the last time we were here."

"As I recall, we were cuddling, with me facing the east window," he said.

"Nothing weird about a boy and his grandfather sharing a bed," I shrugged.

"There's nothing not-weird about this scenario," he laughed. Then after a moment, he asked, "So what ended up happening with Christine?"

Ah, yes. The last time I wrote here, I had heard from Christine. I had thought that we would part ways simply, but as is so often the case in my life, simple is not so simple.

A few weeks ago, we met up for coffee. She was happy to see me, and I her -- to my embarrassment, it was a little like reuniting with an old lover, even though we had never technically been such. Over java, she explained her plight: she had a job offer, her first in a very long time, as a school administrator.

The problem? It was down in New Hampshire. That involves all kinds of moving expenses, money she can't come up with because she hasn't been working.

"I've asked you for so much," she said, a creak of sadness in her voice. "And I don't want anything from you in money, I've taken too much. All I need is for you to co-sign a loan for me."

I didn't like the sound of this. I asked her for the paperwork, which she had brought in her big woven purse. I put on my extra-thick reading glasses and began to scan.

"Christine, you can't do this," I said, almost immediately. The interest rates were what I would call predatory. She told me how much she was going to be making and I quickly deduced she would be paying this loan off until she retired. That's hardly the fresh start she needed.

"Ed, I don't have a choice!" she said, tears now welling up in her eyes. "I need to get out of Maine, I need this job, I have to do whatever it takes to make this work!"

"You ever hear the expression cutting off your nose to spite your face? Well, this is a nose, an eye and an ear. It's borderline usury. Just on this side of it."

"How do you know all this stuff, since when are you a lawyer?"

"I've got layers," I said with a grim smirk.

"Well, what else can I do? And don't say take the money from you, you know Pamela would never--"

"To hell with Pamela," I said. "I've got the money, I don't need it. It's yours, take it in good faith."

"Ed, no," she pled, "At the very least, let me pay it back... with whatever interest you want to charge."

"No, no," I insisted. Us getting into a long-term financial entanglement is the last thing I needed considering I won't be Ed much longer. I wanted to walk away free and clear, and I suppose -- somewhat selfishly -- I wanted to help repair someone's broken life without taking them to the Inn.

We met again a week later. I had the money order drawn up and some paperwork. It's boilerplate stuff basically absolving her of any responsibility to repay. It could theoretically be challenged in court since the signature on the bottom doesn't exactly look like the one on Ed's driver's license (though I tried hard to emulate it) but I took a picture of both of us holding up the contract and smiling to confirm that yes, Ed Levesque was of sound mind and body when he signed this paper, and under no duress.

After that we shared a celebratory beer, and then... gosh. It was like we were a couple of kids. Maybe it was the euphoria of her problems suddenly melting away, maybe it was the imminent goodbye on both of our sides, but we went back to her place and started kissing.

Soon it became a lot more than kissing as we explored each other's bodies in the way we had probably hoped to a few months earlier. If I were a mature and sensible person I would have put a stop to it before we got our clothes off, but it had been a long time since I had been in that position and I had been yearning for it...

Only for it to be stopped by outside forces.

"Ed," she said, reaching down, "I don't mean to offend you, but, um... are you... okay...? Down there...?"

There spirit is willing, but the flesh is... old and tired.

I looked down at my non-responsive Little Ed and sighed. You know, all these months, I hardly ever even thought about it, which was probably a sign about the way things were working down there. I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. Here I was, in bed with a woman I really did want, caught up in the moment, but my body seemed incapable of rising to the occasion.

No matter how much it made sense, no matter how much we probably shouldn't have proceeded, it gnawed at me. In my head, I am still a young-ish, vital person, even if I haven't been a man who has sex with women in years (and if you ask me ex-wife, she might say that that goes back well before our trip to the Inn...) Having that taken from me hurt on a level that most people probably wouldn't get. It's been a long time since my mind and my body were in synch that way, and this was a reminder of how far out of my control it all is, and will continue to be.

"Do you maybe... have a pill?" she asked hopefully. Ed's a fairly recent widower who was still in mourning for his wife, so that was a no.

We laid there in the altogether, hoping that something would happen that simply wasn't going to, before the moment passed. She kissed me goodbye and dressed herself, and we convinced ourselves it was for the best. Christine and Ed was not a thing that needed to happen. Not that Christine is so shallow that that's all she is interested in, but I took it as a sign, one of many, that I am not currently -- and maybe never will be -- the person she needs to fulfill her needs, and that I can lay to rest the idea that I am missing out on some great romance by not being able to spend more time with her.

It would seem that that chapter of my life is closed now... not without sadness or at least bittersweet notes, but it's for the best. Before long I'll be Ryan again -- hopefully -- and then I'll hand his life back and go on to my next adventure.

-Ed

Dave/Chris: End of an adventure

Shane and I are back at the Inn. We arrived today, and hopefully we'll be back in our bodies soon, and we can go back to our regular lives. I haven't posted much recently, because there hasn't been a whole lot to tell. We've been running the cafe and living pretty regular lives. After Shane had his threesome, things cooled off between the 2 of us, and we haven't had sex since. I guess that when Shane did this, a barrier went up from my side, and he hasn't pushed it since. We were also coming to the end of this journey, and I think that once we're back in our normal bodies, it might be easier to go back to how things were, if we're not currently having sex or in some kind of weird relationship.

I still worry about it, though. After what we've been through, and what we did together, can things ever go back to how they were? I guess we'll just have to wait and see. We're still fine, but I can sense a sort of awkwardness, which I can only describe as being similar to hanging out with an ex that you decided to try to stay friends with.

It's been an interesting experience, and we've both learnt a lot. Being trans for these months has really opened my eyes to the challenges that they face, and the frankly vindictive laws being enacted by the current administration that serve nothing, and trample all over a group of people that are marginalized anyway. The bathroom laws, for example, are ridiculous. I look very much like a man, but now I'm supposed to use women's bathrooms? And if I decide to play any team sports, then I should join a women's team? I'm quite sure that there would be objections if I did either of these things.

I'm also looking forward to going back to my business. Running a cafe is difficult anyway, but now, nobody knows what will happen to the supply or the prices of anything imported. As a locksmith, a lot of my business is opening the doors of people that have locked themselves out - which requires tools I have anyway. I also cut keys and install locks, but I managed to order a whole lot of blank keys and locks from a supplier a couple of months ago which they'll hold for me until I get back.

There is some apprehension about going back, though. When we were in Indy over Christmas, I realised just how fucked up my actual life is. I'm really motivated to try to fix what I can now, and build a life I'm happier in. Living the life of Chris was less stressful in a lot of ways. I was there temporarily, and whatever I did, and whatever happened, I won't be around to live out the consequences of. That's not to say I didn't try to do the right thing - but if I messed anything up, then it would make no difference to me in the long term. Having said that, I don't think that we made a mess of things, and Chris and Sylvia can go back without too many problems.

I wonder how Shane will adjust to going back to being a man. Looking at him, it's very difficult to see that he was ever anything but a woman. When we were packing to go to the inn, he went through Sylvia's closet and lamented that he didn't get to wear a lot of her summer dresses, because it's never been warm enough. On the other hand, he's often complained about the uncomfortable heels, the make-up and periods - or the lines for the ladies bathrooms, and having to sit to pee. I think I got it worse than him there, though. Men's bathrooms often only have one stall and someone has usually pissed all over the seat. He did adjust to being a woman very quickly and comprehensively, so I hope he adjusts to being a man again just as quickly. I'm mostly looking forward to getting my cock back. I constantly worry about someone finding out that I don't have one, and I'll be very happy when I won't have to deal with this anymore.

I think we'll mostly be spending our days walking around town, going to the beach and trying to treat it as a vacation. It's still quite nerve-wracking, because until we're back in our own bodies, a lot can still go wrong. We have decided on a very strict rule about staying in our respective beds from 11pm until the sun comes up. No going to the bathroom during the night, just in case, so the key will be not to drink much when we go out and particularly taking it easy on the beer.

Now we wait, and hope that it all goes to plan....

Aidan/Emilia: Please let us change back before swimsuit season.

So I got back from a shift at the bookstore the other day, and my younger son had left her bedroom door open, posing in front of the mirror in a string bikini, taking selfies and then staring at them critically. 

I tried to sound cool with it.  "Beaches open already?"  Surprisingly, she actually yipes, puts a hand in front of her groin and the other arm across her breasts, and quickly slams the door with her body.  This seems kind of unusual - Rusty certainly likes showing off her "Monica" body, and we'll all kind of run through the apartment half-dressed when we're in a rush - so I rap on the door.  "Everything okay?  I didn't mean to catch you by surprise."

She opened the door with a crop-top and jeans clearly just quickly pulled on over the swimsuit.  "No, it's fine, I just didn't think you'd be home for another hour."  She grabbed a glass of water and took a sip.  "I guess some of them never close, but Razzie's been talking about it finally being bikini weather, so I wanted to check and see if I could pull it off before she says we should hit the beach some Saturday or something."

"Really?  Don't take this the wrong way, but this doesn't seem like the sort of thing you usually worry about.  I really wish you would, but if it's suddenly a problem, I have to wonder if something's up."

"Nothing's...  I mean, nothing's happened to me or anything, it's just that wearing a bikini means my whole butt is out there and I can't see if it looks weird, and the top feels different from a regular bra, and, I dunno, it kind of doesn't feel like I'm wearing underwear but does feel like it could all come apart.  Sure, if someone unties something without me noticing and gets pictures of me naked, it won't be my problem for long, but, like, it feels kinda precarious."

I nodded.  "Well, first, your butt doesn't look weird.  Speaking as your gym buddy, you've got a great butt that you've put a lot of work into."

"Eww, Dad, gross!"

I raised my hands.  "Hey, like I said, that's your roommate and workout partner Emilia talking!  But as your dad, I can give you the old lectures about peer pressure and not doing anything you're not ready for.  And I'm sure Monica left you a one-piece swimsuit or two, maybe stuff for actually swimming laps or the like."

She nodded.  "Oh, yeah, she did, but I kinda wanted to try all the sexy stuff before we turn back.  Have a bunch of photos on a thumb drive saying I killed it later, and it feels good, you know?  Not so much folks saying I'm pretty, but that I chose a nice outfit or that I must work out."  She paused.  "You think I'll still like working out when I'm myself again?"

I nodded.  We'd been given the lives of three healthy and attractive young women, but there was a lot that we now know took effort despite having taken it for granted before, and compliments, especially when they come from (other) women can feel pretty good even if I feel like Emilia's genetics are doing most of the work.  "I don't know how much is that Monica's body is an endorphin factory and how much is that being her put you in a spot where you discovered you can like it, but I figure you might."  I paused for a second, wary of the next question.  "Are you going to miss being Monica?"

She shrugged.  "I mean, sure, but not the bras and periods and heels.  God, I can't wait to stand to pee again, even if the lines weren't so much shorter.  I'll probably really miss everything in the city, and Razzie and Chandra, and bar trivia.  It feels crazy that I'm going to have to wait years for people to treat me like an adult again!"

I had a brief thought about Rusty and Kutter throwing who was responsible for paying rent in New York in my face if I ever tried to impose a curfew.

"But, I've got to admit, when I'm doing Korean lessons or watching other people in class, that kind of feels right, you know?  Like where I should be.  And there's so much Monica probably learned in school that people expect me to know, and I'll sometimes hear from other-Rusty and freak out because I'd forgotten something or someone. I'm kind of ready to be done."

I gave her a big grin.  "You've got no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that, given how well you and Kutter have done and how quickly you adapted!"

- Aidan/Emilia

(That said, she went out to run laps around the park in just her sports bra and spandex shorts this morning!)

Jordan/Yuan-Wei: More Secretly American than Usual

Even though it probably wouldn't have done a lot of good or had much impact, considering that I've spent my life in New York, Massachusetts, and California before Hong Kong, I feel like it would have felt really good to cast votes again President That Fucking Guy in the last three elections.  And that's even before he did anything - as someone born and raised in Queens, hating That Fucking Guy is my goddamn birthright.

But he has done stuff, and I've been a woman with a Hong Kong passport for almost ten years now, and I'm dating a guy from here who is suddenly a whole heck of a lot less interested in seeing America than he was when Max and Jonah/Krystle invited me to their weddings last year.  I can't really blame him, at least up to the point where he says maybe I should just cancel what I've booked entirely, since it wasn't like this was family or anything, but just friends from years ago, and he's been sleeping on the couch for the past week.

Oh.  Yeah.  He didn't move back to his apartment after his lease lapsed, because being all up in each other's business all the time didn't drive us apart but instead confirmed that we do indeed like each other enough that neither he nor I is going to suddenly decide that we don't want the other around.  Not enough to make always being around each other and in the same bed after work something we're gonna want to stop, anyways.  I know that sounds like me avoiding saying I love him, which it's not - I do love him! - but that doesn't make me any less wary about sharing my space.

It's our space now, and in a lot of ways it's not that bad or different.  Dominic and I have a lot of the same tastes, even if he occasionally insists living in America has time my palate.  Over the past couple months, the food in the fridge is different, you see more stuff labeled in Chinese characters on the walls and shelves, some of my baseball stuff has given way to his martial arts stuff.  As I was telling Max during a zoom call the other day, it's starting to feel more like Jordan Lee's apartment than Jordan Chang's.

He laughed at that, saying I worry way too much about names and what they mean and if the Inn has fucked me up in some fundamental way, and he's probably right, but I point out that I'm zooming with him from a park rather than my living room because I couldn't talk about this sort of thing with Dominic around.  He says that's kind of going to be the new normal, though, because he didn't tell Pei Pei that he spent a year as someone else when he proposed and doesn't think it would be right to spring it on her at the wedding. 

That's when I understood the reason for arranging a call - he's just going to let his fiancée think Benny is his real fucking brother, and I'm just some girl who used to hang out with him and his folks because "Missy" was a theater kid who would come to New York to see shows while at school in Boston.  And while I get it - Pei Pei is a nice girl who has no connection to the Inn whatsoever (believe you me, folks checked!) - it made me feel like I was being pushed out of the family when I often feel like I work pretty goddamn hard to stay in touch.  I blew up at him a bit more than he deserved, though he sure fucking deserved some of it, probably because I was stressed out about visas and if I wanted to buy burner phones for the trip and just everything about how my home is rejecting me, again, in large part because That Fucking Guy is president again. 

I'm still coming, but there's a good chance my family and folks like Annette and Jonah won't get to meet my boyfriend, and I'll be making sure that there are folks ready to call lawyers to deal with ICE fuckery if I don't text every ten minutes after the plane lands for every airport.  It's crazy, considering I live in China (yeah, Hong Kong, but the SAR isn't nearly as S as it used to be), and makes me worry about whether I might just get cut off from people I care about long-term.  I know that's what happened with my grandparents, and what happens with a lot of Inn people, but I guess I've been in denial about it happening to me, and what sort of Hong Kong girl that will leave me. 

-Jordo