Daryl/Zee: First Thursday Club

As I mentioned last time, one of the reasons I decided to settle in Boston is that there's Inn people there, but it hasn't really been an official support system until, I guess, fairly recently, when one of the local folks decided that she owned a bar and might as well get folks together there.  Invitations got sent out and, after work, I headed the other direction up the Red Line and then took a buss from the end of the line a little way up Massachusetts Avenue and found "The Changeling".

Props on the clever name - it is, at heart, an Irish pub, even if the Irish lady who runs it used to be a Texan (and thus puts unusually good barbecue on the menu) and is thus sort of like those creatures placed in other people's lives.  Is that too much explaining the joke?

So, I walked in a little nervously and saw it was a bit busy, what with it being happy hour and all.  But then, it's just a bar, so I walked up to the counter and asked the bartender if she knew anything about "First Thursday Changelings' Club".

She was actually Irish, and said I'd be wantin' t' go t' the far booth, pointing me at one in a back corner, near a foosball table but no windows.  One person was already sitting there - a woman of about 40 or so, who leapt up when she saw me.  "Hi, I'm Ashlyn!  Welcome to my bar.  You must be...  Za-rye-uh?"

"Za-ree-ya.  Call me 'Zee'.  You look great!"  I looked her up and down a little, not sure what I'd expected, other than it wasn't quite this.  As someone who had a number of older female friends as Magda, I've known a few who having not just been very attractive in their youth, but who traded off that, are either blithely unaware of how time has worked on them or who have been maniacal in maintaining it to the extent that they can and won't let you miss it.  Ashlyn, it seemed, was in the second category, wearing a green dress with a plunging neckline that showed she still had an impressive rack, although it was maybe a little tighter than intended in some other spots.  Her hair is bright red, and she's got strong-looking arms and legs as well as a face that ha a few more lines but great cheekbones.

"Thank you.  40 can hit hard and I'm not going down without a fight!"  We laughed, and then we started talking.  She asked if I was a Celtics fan yet, and I told her that I'd manage to cling to the Bulls despite not having been in Chicago for a while, and she expressed her sympathy but also her respect, because she'd given in little by little over the years, especially once she opened the bar.

We talked a lot of sports, and, god, I missed that; the ex's friends weren't really sports people, none of my female friends have been, and even the best of guy friends tend to get weird when a lady likes sports.  I mean, I did the same thing back in the day, because it's like a signal that you're extra-compatible or something at best and a threat to the ego at worst.

We'd gone on about basketball for a while when a blonde lady about Ashlyn's age came in and he beckoned her over.  "Zee, Penny; Penny, Zee.  We shook hands like it was some secret 'we're actually guys and don't hug' signal, although Ashlyn was a hugger where this old friend was concerned.  "So, how's the new job?"

Penny grunted.  "It's a lot.  I mean, it used to be enough to be married to a lawyer while writing a couple books a year, but Ray's practice is just getting off the ground and Millie is just good enough to need expensive coaches, so now I'm dealing with a classroom full of twenty Millies twice a day, and this is just part time!"  She turned and gave me a wry grin.  "Don't get me wrong, being a mother and a teacher is very rewarding, but sometimes I wish I could have passed my daughter bookish Arthur Milligan DNA as opposed to how athletic and competitive the original Penelope Lincoln was!"

That kind of bowled me over.  "Geez, I hadn't thought of that."

"It's weird!  It's not like I ever look at Millie and feel like she's not my kid or love her any less, but if every parent looks at their kids and wonders where that comes from, at least they have some idea!  I keep getting blindsided by the parts of her that aren't clearly Ray."

I nodded, and then she pointed at the guy who was walking from the bar.  "Now, Ande - Ande isn't going to have to worry about that, since he'll be using his twin's DNA!"

Ande started to back off but Ashlyn grabbed his arm.  "Don't mind her, she doesn't mean you're going to be having kids any time soon.  Now, c'mon, how do you know Penny?"

"I don't know her, I just, uh, sort of asked for something weird at a book signing."

"Not that weird - I get one or two Inn folks who want that to be part of their autographs a year.  Usually on the Pygmalion books, even though I haven't done one of those in five years, although some of the Wandering Inn ones attract the same audience.  Not that Ashlyn pays attention to anything but the mysteries."

A few other folks showed up who don't contribute to the blog and said to respect their privacy.  We stayed well past happy hour, and by the time things were about to break up at around ten, one gave a big, exaggerated, maybe somewhat tipsy sigh.  "Well, Zee, it looks like you got lucky and Lenny's not going to show up."

Penny turned to Ashlyn.  "Wait, you invited Lenny?"

"What?  I couldn't not invite him!"

Penny harrumphed.  "Agree to disagree."

I noticed a bunch of folks were kind of trying not to look at me.  "Who's Lenny?"

The lady who brought him up took me by the hand.  "Lenny spent, like, eight weeks as a woman five years or so ago, and ever since, he's hit on everyone who returned from the Inn a moderately attractive woman, saying that we should stick together so that we can share everything about our lives."

A few other folks jumped in.  "Which isn't entirely wrong."  "But he's such a weirdo about it!"  "I don't know how he even finds out."  "Learned what a girl likes, though."  "And that dick--"

The first woman slapped the table.  "Hey, stop making him sound good!  Fucker cheated on me with that stewardess for two months!"  She pointed at me.  "I'm just saying, you are totally his type - he really likes girls who used to be guys, and black girls besides.  He acts like he really knows what you go through, and talks a good game, but he's a fucking dog."

I was a bit taken aback.  "Well, I'm not looking to get back into another relationship right now."

Penny punched my shoulder.  "You say that now, but c'mon, you're a romantic like me, and guys like Lenny have a real appeal to gals like us.  I mean, if I hadn't already been married when he set his sights on me..."  She shook her head to clear it.  "Welp, that's enough sharing for tonight!  Anyone heading to Camberville and want to split a cab?"

A couple folks raised their hands, and the party split up after that.  At that relatively late hour, it took me over an hour to get home, and the walk at the end got my blood flowing just enough that I couldn't sleep now it's too late to try.

Good thing it's no-meetings Friday!

-Zee

Jonah/Krystle: Just Like That

It's no secret around the gym that I've been looking for another job; they've seen me come to work right from interviews wearing skirts and heels and other stuff I don't generally go for, and besides, everyone who gets paid by the hour is looking for a new job.  Heck, a lot of people higher up are.  Low unemployment, but lots of bosses who don't realize people have options.  It's a lot easier if you've got a college degree, though, so I've come up short a lot.

I hadn't been on an interview the day I got called into the manager's office at the end of shift, so I wasn't dressed up, unless you consider lycra dressy.  I'm worried about getting fired, of course, but my boss just looks at me like he hasn't really done that since I was hired.  He wasn't alone, though - there was a guy in a suit from the corporate office.  "So, I gather you've been looking for new work?"

"Uh, yeah - don't misunderstand, I love it here, but my daughter's getting big enough that Momma's apartment is starting to feel small, plus she needs school clothes and supplies, and, well, there have been a lot of weeks when it's not close to full time unless someone gets sick.  I mean, I get it - lots of folks in Cambridge still not ready to come inside and exert themselves around people breathing heavy --"

He seizes on that.  "But you haven't missed any time, have you?"

"I've been lucky."  I smile, realizing he probably can't see it under my mask.  "And, you know, I'm careful."

He nods.  "I see that.  It's got you cross-trained pretty well, too."  I shrug.  "So.  How would you like to have a manager's job?"

My eyes go wide.  "Is Bob leaving?"

He laughs.  "No, not yet.  Here's where it gets tricky.  The opening isn't here.  We've opened a few new locations over the past few months, and they've had some staffing issues.  Hiring folks who don't know the day-to-day business, others who do but leave after a few weeks.  Others who, uh, aren't a good fit for the community.  That's where we need you, at one of the new locations."

I racked my brains.  "You need me in Salem?"

He stared at me, the hardest a man has looked me in the eyes since I became Krystle.  "No.  We want you in New Orleans."

I'd like to say I did something cool or funny like laughing, but instead I just stared back, trying to see if this was a test.  "New Orleans, Louisiana?"

"I don't know that there's another one."

I let out the breath I didn't remember holding.  "That's a big move."

He nodded.  "It is.  But your performance reports have been excellent, you are clearly looking for better things, and, like you said, we would lose you soon anyway."  He slid a folder with various papers in it over the desk.  "We will need to have a formal interview, of course, but we can do that on Friday.  As I said, the previous person we hired for the role has quit, and we need the position filled quickly."

I take the folder.  "Okay.  Let me, uh, let me just talk to some folks."

"Of course.  I look forward to talking with you again."

He gets up and leaves.  Bob raises a hand for a high five, and respond, though not really a hard slap.  I'm not sure I really say anything to him on the way out before getting on the T.  When I get to Alewife, instead of walking back home, I head to the buses and go up Mass Ave a bit, getting off at the stop closest to The Changeling.  They've moved it in the past couple years.

As I walk in, Moira - the original - squeals.  "Krystle!  What a surprise!"  She quickly cleans off a spot near the end of the bar.  "What can I get you?"

"Uh...  Heh.  A bourbon, I guess."

She raises her eyebrows, since I don't drink a lot, especially while I'm still wearing a t-shirt over spandex, but she pours one anyway.  I take a sip and wince.  "So what's wrong."

"Nothing.  It's just... this." I show her the papers.

Her eyes go wide and she shrieks a little, getting looks from the customers, and even getting Ashlyn to walk in from out of the back and see what's going on.  "Oh, hey, Krystle.  Coming crawling back?"

We both know she's joking, but Moira's accent triples in strength.  "She is not!"  She shoves my papers in Ashlyn's face and I mumble something about how that's kind of private.

She looks it over and beams.  "Oh, man, congratualtions.  You are going to love NOLA.  It's amazing!"

Moira looked up at her.  "When have you ever been there?"

Ashlyn's been at this so long that she doesn't even get rattled when someone sees something inconsistent with her being girl who grew up in Providence and has seldom been west of Manhattan.  "Hey, I was a real party girl in college, and where's a better place to party?"

I interrupt before Moira has more questions.  "I haven't accepted yet.  Heck, I could still blow the interview!"

"Come on, be reasonable.  There have to be plenty of people closer to the area they could go to if you weren't a lock."  She came around the bar and sat on the stool next to mine, putting her hand on top of mine.  "Besides, it would be really good for you.  Sometimes we really need a new start.  A place that's ours and not, you know, just where life put you."

Moira chimed in, not aware of the context, but talking about how leaving Ireland was like that for her.  We spent the next hour or so talking, and then I got back on the bus because Momma Kamen was looking after Little Moira and had a night shift.  She looked a little concerned when she smelled alcohol on my breath - it was probably some warning flag with Krystle in the before-me times - but I said I was fine and put another stick of gum in my mouth.  I spent the evening playing with my daughter, watched Frozen again, and then stayed up, plugging the New Orleans location's address into Google Maps and then looking at what apartments cost to rent in that area.

Momma Kamen saw what I was doing when she got in.  "Something I should know about?"

I told her the whole thing, and she got kind of quiet before smiling.  "Well, I've always wanted to visit New Orleans, and visiting my granddaughter sounds like as good an excuse as any."

I think it was this that unlocked something that I couldn't identify that had been feeling more strongly all day.  "Does everybody want me gone?"

She chuckled and hugged me.  "Oh, Kryssy, no.  But I've been in your shoes - a baby, no man to rely on, barely a high school diploma, feeling like I was a burden on my momma - and I want so much more for you and Karla.  There were days I didn't think it would happen, especially when you were getting into so much trouble, but look at you - you've grown so much, and I'm so proud of you.  You deserve this opportunity."

Her being proud of me always felt strange and made me feel more guilty - I've taken her daughter's life and now she's a white teenager - so it didn't hit as she expected.  "But what about Moira, and her friends?"

"Honey, she's five.  She'll be mad at you for a few weeks, and then she'll make a lot of new friends, and if you stay down there, she'll never remember anyone from here but her cousins.  Do you remember anybody from Roxbury?"

No, I didn't.  I had no idea that the Kamens had lived anywhere but this Cambridge apartment block.  But I didn't exactly remember a lot of people from when I was five, either.  Heck, I'd lost touch with most of the other people who were at the Inn with me.

I still had a hard time sleeping, though, so when I woke up early, I went out to the fire escape and made a video call to my real parents, who would already be up and getting ready for work.  They were obviously worried that it was some sort of an emergency, and they weren't nearly as enthusiastic when I laid everything out.

Mom was especially not-quite-happy.  "Just when I thought I couldn't lose my son more, that we were getting closer."

"It's not like that, I just - I mean, I'm a Black single parent in an expensive city where I never know when I'm going to run into someone who had a problem with Krystle ten years ago and holds a grudge, and a clean slate kind of sounds nice.  Not totally clean, just..."

I didn't have an end to that sentence, but Dad nodded.  "I understand.  We moved a few times back when we were younger, too.  Every one does, and their parents all have a hard time with it."

We chatted a little more - Mom expressed worries about Moira and Dad tried to give me practical advice for moving - and then they had to leave for work.  I had to get Moira ready for pre-K and then run some errands.

On that Friday, I showed up to work two hours early, in my interview uniform, hair straightened, worrying about whether I look like I'm trying to lean too hard on my looks while still wanting to show I care about how I present myself (men who have never been women have no idea how much this bounces around your head), but I handle it professionally.  I get the offer.  I say yes.

I'm going to New Orleans.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: I Didn't Even Do Anything!

I was so excited about Thanksgiving.  It had been a long time, I think, but I was finally going to meet Calvin's parents.  I'm not sure how long that usually takes - my only real previous experience dating was in high school and everyone kind of knows everyone in that town - but given that he met Momma Kamen and Karla pretty quickly, it sure seemed like we were lagging behind on that count.  I know we're more local, and I never had the feeling that he had to tiptoe around me being black or having a kid, so maybe it wasn't anything important.

I did make sure I packed the sort of dress I could wear to church, though, and spent more time on what shoes to bring than I ever thought I would as a kid.  Even shoes with just a couple inches of heel take up space in a suitcase!  I almost considered a perm or pulling out the wig I inherited, but, nah.  They're going to have to get to know the real me soon enough.  I get Moira bundled up and we head to Calvin's apartment.

He doesn't say anything when we ring the bell, just buzzes us up, which isn't the usual but not weird enough to notice.  I do notice that the TV's on and he's not already in his coat, and ask if we're early.

"No, Kiki, you're right on time."

I do that thing where you pull your head back in confusion.  "What's with the new nickname?  Is that how you've been referring to me when talking to your folks or something?"

"You know what it is."  I must still look confused, because he hits a button on his remote, and then a video starts playing.  I recognize his friend Big Stu and a couple of other folks from that guy's Halloween party, but I can't really see where they are until someone says to put your hands together for Kinky Kiki, the phone swims around to capture a stage with a pole, and just as I realize what's about to happen, the original Krystle struts out in a sexy schoolgirl outfit while that old "Hot For Teacher" song plays.

I quickly move my attention to my daughter.  "Moira, go in the kitchen and play!"

Her eyes are glued to the screen.  "Mommy..."

"That's right, Moira, that's your Mommy."

I've barely got time to shoot Calvin a dirty look before squatting down and turning my daughter away from the TV, then unlocking my phone and giving it to her with one of her favorite games opened.  "Moira, go play.  This is grown-up stuff."  She looks upset, but does it, dragging her feet.

I'm furious as I turn to Calvin, nothing on my mind but why he would want to embarrass me like that in front of my daughter.  I'm about to ask that very question when he says that this is his favorite part.

Apparently this was Stu's friend Ned's bachelor party, and Krystle is leaning over, pushing her breasts right into the groom-to-be's face, her blouse already on the floor.  Someone is sticking a five-dollar bill into her bra, and she's licking her lips.

In that moment, I can't imagine how Calvin thinks that's me.  I don't think I've ever had that expression on my face, her arms are skinny, she's got no abs, her breasts haven't been through nursing, her hair is straight and she's wearing a ton of makeup, and even when I've got heels on, my butt doesn't do what hers is doing as she walks.  I actually say "that's not me", not loud, but to myself, the way I used to when looking in the mirror.

Calvin doesn't get that, of course.  "Of course it's you!  Stu thought he recognized you right away but wasn't sure until he remembered the video, which he sent to me with a giant thumbs-up."  He crosses his arms and glares at me, although his eyes are also dating to the screen where Krystle is twerking in her pleated skirt.

I take a deep breath and try to center myself.  It's been a while since I really had to worry about Krystle's history, but I used to, and I'm not a scared kid anymore.  "Okay," I say, "I used to do that.  It's not like I wasn't ever going to tell you, it's just, you know, not the sort of thing that comes up in everyday conversation.  It's not me, you know, any more."  I smile nervously, hoping this is where he sees how embarrassed I am and forgives me this little white lie.

It is not.  If anything, he looks angrier.

"I think it is.  I think you've just been leading me on because you accidentally wound up with a kid and you think I'm stepdad material."

"What?  No!  I mean, you are stepdad material, and we probably wouldn't still be going out if you weren't, but that's just something you think about when you've got a daughter, you know?"

"Drop the act!"

"What act?  This is me!  That on the video is the act!"  Well, maybe it wasn't at the time, but it sure would be now.

"Riiiiiiight.  You just somehow got bad at walking in heels and doing your makeup and everything by the time you met me.  And suddenly your father was part of your life until recently, and you'd always gone to church, and only had sex that one time you got knocked up!"

"I--"  All of that was true, which was why it was how I always talked about my life with him, but it was not true for the original Krystle.  "I wasn't pretending.  I can't explain it to you, but I wasn't pretending.  I woke up different one day, and I literally couldn't live like I had been.  You won't believe me, but I didn't know how to be that kind of girl."

"Just stop lying!  I wouldn't have cared that you used to strip, but this whole alternate reality you made to seduce me is sick!"

"I didn't try to seduce you!  We just met and liked each other!  Are you going to say I picked your pocket so that I could look all innocent returning your book to you?"

"That would explain a lot!"

"Are you kidding me with this?  Do you really think I saw you at the RMV and made an immediate plan to land the intern by pretending that I'm no good in bed?"  Sure, this made a lot more sense than what really happened, but it sounded stupid too!

And I was just angry, too angry to be smart.  Everyone else I know who has been someone else for over four years seems like they've figured out how to make some explanation up for this on the fly, but I haven't.  Plus, I was being called some sort of scheming, deceptive woman for actually being as honest as I could with him, and it just made me angry.

Plus, the whole thing got kind of, I don't know, gross at one point, like now that the idea of slutty Krystle was in his head, he kind of wanted that, asking why I've been holding out on him.

Suffice it to say, we didn't wind up going to his folks for Thanksgiving, and it felt really lonely - Momma Kamen had decided to pick up some overtime since Karla and I would both be with our guys, and of course everybody else had plans.  I was halfway through dialing my father's number, but then I found myself debating what would be worse - nobody else being there, so I could be lectured about how they had told me that staying Krystle would end in tears, or friends who wouldn't believe I was Jonah even if we told them, meaning I have to pretend to be some black-sheep cousin, and agent I trying to avoid lying?

Fortunately, it's not a big deal to Little Moira, especially since we could watch the dog show and the rerun of the parade.  I even talked myself into it actually being pretty cool to have pizza delivered for Thanksgiving dinner, especially since, as a woman, I was probably going to get put to work in the kitchen otherwise.

That lasted right up until Moira asked how the trip went.  I tried to play it cool, like some minor incident had kept it from happening, since I was hoping that maybe Calvin would call and say he'd overreacted, but then more came out.  I honestly couldn't remember whether I'd ever told Moira about the stripper stuff, but she was awesome about not acting like it was a big deal either way.  Thankfully, she knows better than to try and cheer me up with spa days or the like, but she is great about asking how I doing when she sees me, and getting me out of the house to do stuff with her namesake.

And then, last night, I finished up work, sat down at the bar for a second, and just started crying like I haven't since realizing I was pregnant.

Fortunately, Ashlyn was working the bar, so I could tell her absolutely everything.  She patted my back a few times, and finally said she sometimes forgets I'm so young and skipped a bunch of steps.  "This is your first hard breakup, isn't it?"

"I... I guess?"

"Well, I'm not going to say it necessarily gets easier with practice, but look at it this way. You're getting a lot of your learning done at once.  First breakup period, first as a woman, first because you're not quite the woman you appear to be..."

"There will be more?"

She choked back a laugh.  "Oh, honey, you didn't think you were going to marry the first guy who was nice to you, did you?"

"Kind of!"

"Oh, no, trust me, just having been men doesn't mean we're going to be good at this - God, look at me!  I should be where Penny is by now, but...  It's hard, kid.

"But I didn't--"

"Yeah, I know. I hate to say better luck next time, because it sounds flip, but I'm guessing you're not going to quit."

She's right, of course, although I don't know that I need to get back out there right this minute.  Let me get through the holidays and then worry about being back on track by Valentine's Day.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Job-Hunting

I like working at The Changeling compared to other jobs I could have - I've got a boss who understands my weird Inn-related quirks, I spend a lot of time with my best friend, and the hours work so that Momma Kamen can watch Little Moira rather than hiring a sitter most nights.  And, yeah, the tops have been better this summer, and not entirely because I'm less worried about Good smiting me down for wearing shorts and a scoop-necked t-shirt.  All the time at the gym had me able to carry trays easier, and having a boyfriend actually makes me less nervous dealing with people.  I don't flirt, but I'm less worried about being friendly, because I'm sure that there's not something else going on in my head.

But it's still waiting tables, and while Ashlyn and Moira don't pay the tipped minimum wage (in part because Moira says that tipping is, and I quote, house-shite), what you make is pretty dependent on how busy it is and what sort of mood the customers are in, and that's kind of scary.  I read something online about how one emergency can wipe most people's savings out, and that's kind of me.  Like, a couple weeks ago, Little Moira had a really bad night, wheezing instead of crying, and I might have wound up spending everything I've saved up on a trip to the emergency room if Dad hadn't texted back with something to try first.

Yeah,  Dad.  I'm not really back on speaking terms with my real patents, but when my baby girl gets sick, pride goes out the window, and apparently Dad feels the same way.  A situation like that does make you focus a little more on making sure that you can handle emergencies, and not just that; families come in with kids not much older than Moira in preschool.  On the one hand, I kind of don't know if she needs it - she's curious, can count to ten, likes being read to, and makes friends at the park, so what's something formal that costs more than I'd make working the hours she's there going to get us?  But it just seems so expected...

So I've started looking for other jobs, and, wow, there is not a whole lot out there for a woman with nothing more than a high-school diploma and the work history that Krystle and I have accumulated.  Not a lot guaranteeing that I'd work enough hours to get insurance at all.

The résumé is also kind of a problem.  Calvin wanted to help when I told him I was thinking of looking for something, but once you get back past my work history and into Krystle's, it's kind of a minefield.  I've mostly been saying that "I" was kind of a mess until getting pregnant served as a wake-up call and he hasn't pushed, and who wants to put something more specific down as bullet points?  Not like anyone I want to work for wants to see that, either, but it does leave a pretty noticeable hole between Krystle's high school graduation and my first stint at The Changeling.

Also kind of tricky:  Interview clothes.  I'm pretty comfortable with my body these days, but every professional-looking skirt I try on seems to be saying "look at my butt!", especially when I'm also wearing heels.  Like, they work when I'm sitting with my legs crossed, but not once I'm on my feet.  Tops are tricky too, if you're built like me and don't want your breasts getting all the attention.  Momma Kamen insisted on altering my jacket, grumbling about how trying to fit us into clothes made for white women without curves are part of how they keep the sisters down.

She got weirdly emotional seeing me dressed up once everything matched and I'd pulled my hair back into a bun and put on makeup, saying there were days she didn't think her daughters would get this far.  I told her not to count her chickens, but kind of got it when I looked in the mirror.  Obviously not nearly as strange as the first time I saw Krystle's face and body, or when I watched a baby grow in it, but my first impression was that I looked like I was wearing a Halloween costume.  Not quite "sexy businesswoman", but not church clothes, or the casual tomboy/busy single mom I think of myself as being, and not like any pictures I've seen of Krystle.  More grown-up, I guess, another version of us.

I didn't get the receptionist job I interviewed for in that outfit, maybe because of those doubts.  Maybe the next one, though.  It's another thing I do now that I didn't before.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Game Nights

I wasn't exactly a jock in high school, or otherwise really in a position to call other kids nerds or dorks - I was, after all, the kid going to extra church - but sometimes with Calvin and his friends, I feel like maybe I should have been?  Like, I know that I'm actually five years younger than all them, but sometimes I kind of wonder when they're going to grow up.  I guess it's a bit of everything, in that they're all white and never really had to worry about certain things, and how I jumped straight into adulthood from the middle of high school and then had a kid and I guess stopped having a lot of time for frivolity.

I mean, Game Night.  A bunch of folks in their mid-twenties getting together to play board games, and, like, not even "drink a shot when you get sent to jail in Monopoly" varieties.  One of Calvin's friends orders stuff from Germany that is apparently going to be the next big thing among tabletop enthusiasts here.  It's insane, but I feel like I'll be letting Cal down or looking like some sort of b---- if I say I don't want to go, I sound like a snob, and can the black single mother really afford to sound like she's too good for these folks?  Especially when I've got a while bunch of what Penny calls "Impostor syndrome" going on?

It's not that I don't have fun at these things, so much as how you get to doing them kind of bewilders me.  I feel like I just grew out of board games, or like they're something Little Moira is going to be growing into soon, and I haven't had time to get nostalgic and try to rediscover them.  I felt kind of silly asking Ashlyn not to schedule me to work every other Monday and even sillier asking Momma Kamen to babysit because this is my "grown-up time" with a boyfriend rather than a toddler.

On top of that, Calvin was hosting this week, and somehow that meant I was responsible for snacks - "we" were, but, well, you know.  And because it's important for some reason that I impress these people despite never having learned to do much more than heat food up, I got myself into a panic a week in advance.  I set off the smoke alarms in the apartment trying to make cookies, and maybe cried a little I told Moira and she said "ye work in a bleedin' restaurant and the owners like your fella".

So half an hour before everyone else started to arrive, Ashlyn showed up with two trays of dip, one with peach cobbler, and a bunch of tortilla chips  I thanked her with promises of overtime and handing out menus, but she said not to sweat it, that we all had different challenges in our new lives that we didn't see until they were right on top of us, but that I should remember I'm only dating Calvin and not his friends.

Easy for her to say; she didn't have any of them staring daggers at me because I'd only managed "vegetarian" rather than vegan with the second tray of dip and honestly couldn't tell the couple for who that was an issue whether there were egg whites or any other sorts of animal products in the cobbler.  I didn't have a great night as Calvin's partner, either; I swear someone got a bunch of "stuff Jonah doesn't know" Pictionary cards, and during Settlers of Catan I had no idea what expansions he had and therefore what we could do.

At the end of the night, I waited for him to sit down and then flopped onto the couch beside him, laying my head on his chest.  "Why is having fun so stressful?"

He laid a hand on my belly.  "Because you've got this silly idea that you need to prove you're awesome."

"It's not silly, and I don't have to prove I'm awesome, just that I'm not a screw-up.  I've disappointed so many people."

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, and then I leaned back a little more so he could do it again on my lips, and then his hand was on my back and I turned around so he could pull me in and there could be tongue.  One of his hands went to my butt and I let it, while I felt the muscles of his back.  The little part of me that says I shouldn't be making out with a guy was blowing its whistle but I ignored it, laying back on the couch and letting him stale me while one hand went to a breast.  I pulled him in a little, just close enough to feel that he was hard, which made me break the kiss and scoot back a bit.

"Sorry," he said, "it just happens."

"Believe me, I know.  It's just--"

Maybe there's a bit of disappointment on his face as he anticipates me saying that, but despite all the talk on that subject, I don't think I noticed any.  I actually found myself thinking "don't be stupid!" because I could feel myself turned on all over and thinking what am I going to do, run to the bathroom?  So I took a breath and said "it's just that I really can't have another baby right now.  You've got to be really careful."

A big grin spread over his face as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a condom with something about extra thickness on the wrapper, did my best not to look away as he put it on, although I may have taken a little longer than necessary in pulling my dress up over my head.  I suddenly felt really naked and vulnerable in just my bra and panties, though also kind of wishing I'd worn fancier ones.  Still, I was able to put myself in his place, pulling my panties down and letting him, well, you know.

I kind of don't know what to think of it.  It felt good, because he knew what he was doing a lot better than I did.  I mean, I didn't just lay there like I did when I got knocked up, but I didn't really know what I should do!  I felt stupid for not having done anything when I was a guy, or all the things I knew I shouldn't do but which would have left me feeling less ridiculous in that moment.  He said it was okay, I was just out of practice, and I just thought about how it was a good thing that if never let on just how much practice I figure Krystle had before I took over her life.

I talked to Ashlyn about it a couple days later and she started to laugh before apologizing, saying she figured it must be even weirder than usual for me.  Then the next day she brought in a couple of DVDs, saying that unlike most porn, most of what was on them would be fun for both of us and most of it wasn't "too advanced".  I was mortified and kept looking at my purse like it was going to catch fire the rest of the night.  I've seen R-rated movies and all, but never anything like that!  I was almost relieved that there was never a good time to get them out of the back of the drawer I speed them in over the past week.

But now Momma Kamen is out for the night and I've got another date with Calvin tomorrow, and Little Moira just feel asleep.  I really don't want to study how to please a man like this - I can't help but think of the time my dad found the magazine a classmate had stuck in my backpack and what the thought of his son learning how to make a man come would be like for him - but I kind of have to, if not for Calvin, than for the man I eventually marry.

Still...  Why is having fun so stressful?

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: This Can Be... Nice?

Here's a fun fact:  In the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, you can't buy cold medicine without a state ID.  I discovered this by finding the medicine cabinet empty half an hour before I had to be at work with a runny nose, going to CVS to get some cough syrup, and discovering the license I inherited from Krystle expired sometime in the last couple months.  It says I'm 26, and the guy at the counter says I should take it as a compliment that he thinks I could pass for 18 (which sounds significantly less cool when you actually are 19), but it means that I'm going to have to make do with a roll of cough drops and bag of tissues.

Moira was sympathetic, sort of.  "That's not gonna be good for the tips, is it?  I can get you a smaller shirt from the office if you want something to counter it."

"Red, even if I was gonna try and make my living off my breasts, I'm kind of still lactating, so I'm really not into the squeezing."

"Really, after a month?  Is me namesake sneakin' in for midnight snacks while you're asleep or something?"

I shrugged, hoping this was the end of boob talk for the night, although it's better to hear it from Moira than a customer.  Moira, at least, will dash of to get me some DayQuil during her break.

Long story shorter, I wound up at the Registry of Motor Vehicles a couple mornings later, thankful that I didn't actually have to retake a driving test or anything, just get a new ID card that has a chip in it or something.  It was kind of nerve-wracking.

Ashlyn and Penny both say that's kind of natural, that your first time going to some government office and saying "I'm so-and-so, here's proof" after you've decided that's how things are going to be can't help but remind you that you are, really, a fake, and they both weren't getting resistance from the people they were saying they were.  Not that I was expecting the real Krystle to skip fifth grade and come down to mess things up, but it reminds you that this life is stolen, and you stole it.

But on the other hand, when going through all the "bring one from this list and one from this other list", I kind of feel like there isn't enough evidence that I am Krystle and here.  I'm loving with her mother, so I don't have any utility bills, and I don't have a credit card.  There's stuff from doctors, but in a lot of ways, this makes me feel like I'm still a kid rather than living a life of a woman in her mid-20s like the card's gonna say.  Sure, I'm really 19, but unless something even more surprising than getting knocked up happens, I'm not getting that time back.

Which is a thought you have in the RMV, let me tell you.  I got a lot of stuff filed online early, but you've still got to be there to get your picture taken and sign stuff.  Momma Kamen said she would look after Little Moira, which meant I was in a crowded waiting area alone, and that makes me nervous.  Having her to fuss over doesn't quite let me form a little bubble around myself, but she does make me a little less aware of how guys stare at girls who look like me and discourages some of them.  Wait long enough, look bored enough, and someone will decide that means you need them to make things interesting; Lord knows that I'd start thinking that way after I was in a room with a pretty girl for about thirty seconds before the Inn.

So I did what I could to pay rapt attention to Penny's new book on my Kindle, wishing I could put earbuds in as much to say "not looking for conversation" as to listen to the music, but that's a good way to miss your number being called.  I got a fair amount of lines anyway - my own fault for putting make-up on so that I might actually have a decent picture, I guess.  Still, it had been about ten minutes without one before someone jumped up when his number was called, his backpack not properly zipped up, and had a book fall out the back.  I waited a second to see if anybody else would do anything, them picked it up and caught up with him.  "Hey, you dropped this."

He was distracted but said thank you, replacing it and then making sure to zip his bag up properly, then scooted to his window.  I grabbed a new seat, and then five minutes later my number gets called, I hand over my three forms of identification, sign a couple things, and get my picture taken.  It reminded me that Momma Kamen's apartment is where I was registered to vote, which I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I hadn't given a lot of thought to.

I was leaving with my temporary card when I saw that guy waiting.  I took a few breaths and then tried to walk quickly past him.  It didn't work, though, since I hadn't checked for stairs on the way in, and he was able to keep pace anyway.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for getting me my book, and was wondering if I could get you lunch by way of, uh, saying thank you.  Ugh, that doesn't sound right."

"Really, it's no big deal, and I've got to get back home to my baby."  No eye contact.

"That's cool, I get it, but I'm sure whoever is watching her would believe you were stuck here long enough for a sandwich.  Honest, I'd feel bad."

I looked up, ready to say no, but I got a good look at him.  He's white, mid-twenties, with something between five-o'clock shadow and an actual beard, and he's looking at my face rather than my chest with a smile that seemed pretty genuine, and I thought, hey, it's just a sandwich, maybe not blinking when I mentioned a baby means he isn't looking for a girl, and I kind of missed just talking with guys.  So I said yes, and we headed to a Subway.

As we sat down, I told him I didn't think he was coming out ahead on this, because you can pick a copy of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance up just about anywhere.  "Not this one," he said, opening it up to show it filled with highlighter and notes.

"Your copy from high school?"

"My Dad's, actually, but it got, like, passed up.  After my Dad would finish a book, Grandpa would read it to practice his English and try and understand some of these building blocks of American culture.  He's the one who made all the notes, and it's been really interesting seeing these from a different perspective."

"Oh, that's cool.  Can I see?"  He handed it to me and I flipped through it a bit, kind of amazed by the handwriting in the margins that might have been even more regular than the pronged pages.  "I wish I could do something like this, but even if I had the books, family has been complicated lately."

"I hear that.  I decider not to take the bar exam a year ago, and I don't think they've liked any decision I've made since.  They say they want me to be happy, but 'this just isn't the life we imagined for you, son'."

"Tell me about it.  You should see most of my folks - they love Little Moira, but hate the whole idea of me being a single mother, and most act like I should... uh, just choose for things to be different."

"Well, that certainly puts me driving a ride-share to make up for how my internship pays almost nothing in perspective."

"Sorry!  I wasn't trying to do that - it's just always on my mind, you know?  Drives my old friends nuts.  But enough about me - where are you interning that's worth that?"

"Oh, just a business on Causeway Street, really no big deal."

My eyes narrowed.  "You trying to set up a humblebrag about working for the Celtics?"

"Or the Bruins!  That's cool too!"

"Yeah, I guess."  Truth be told, a lot of the guys I grew up with in New Hampshire would think it was even cooler, but I didn't skate.  "What's that about?"

"Research, mostly, and a lot of trying to boil executives' thoughts down to PowerPoint presentations.  But you learn a lot immersing yourself in that stuff that might help you work your way up to being an executive yourself."

"Neat.  I'm a waitress, so I guess I might try and work my way up to bartender."

"Hey, at least the restaurant eventually closes for the night.  Sometimes I've got to make calls to clear something up about a potential draft pick who grew up in Siberia..."

We talked for what couldn't really have been much more than fifteen minutes, until our sandwiches were gone, and we left the building, both heading to the T station.  He jogged in front of me and turned around, walking backwards for a bit.  "Okay, I want going to make this an asking-you-out thing, but I've got to say - I really want to ask you out."

I stopped dead at that.  "I, uh...  You know, I don't think I'd mind."

"Really?  Okay.  Awesome.  So, here's my card with my phone number and email and stuff, so you don't have to give me any contact info you don't want to.  I don't mean to put the pressure on you, but it sounds like working nights and with the baby, your schedule might be less predictable than mine--"

I took the card, thinking about how this might have never occurred to me when asking a girl out.  "That's really considerate..."  I looked down, realizing we'd never actually exchanged names.   "...Calvin."

"You think?  Some of the guys at work say it looks weak, but there was this thing with my sister..." I must have looked alarmed, because he shook his head to anticipate what I was going to ask.  "No, nothing happened to her, but I figure not everyone's going to build herself an app to create random email addresses the way she did."

"That's good.  Well, like you said, things do keep me pretty busy, but if you get an email where 'Crystal' is misspelled two separate ways..."

He chuckled, and then got on his Green Line train while I waited for an Orange.

I almost flipped his card away a couple times in the days since then.  He's nice, and I guess good-looking if your taste goes to skinny white boys, but he's also a barely-paid intern and not really looking to date so much as find a husband who can help provide for my family, which is what I told Moira when she asked what had me distracted and then proceeded to pull the whole story out.

"That's stupid."  Red is not one to mince words.  "Look, obviously I'm not in your situation, but he sounds like a good'un, who didn't freak out when you mentioned your kid, and have you considered that you might be worth settling down for?  Besides--" She grinned.  "It can't hurt to get some practice going out before you try and land the one who can look after ye, can it?"

"I, uh, just don't know if I can be that type of, uh, again."

Ashlyn had wandered over by then, so Moira rolled her eyes and told her cousin to talk to me.

Which she did.  "It's okay to have a crush on a guy, you know.  Even to act on it.  I know a lot of your experiences that relate directly to being a woman have been difficult and scary, but remember that it can be good enough that a lot of us choose to stay this way.  I can't speak to your beliefs, but I can't imagine that God would want your daughter to have a mother who thinks being a girl is a bad thing."

I've got to admit, she's right about that, and I thought about it while shopping with Little Moira a couple days later.  She's gotten to the point where she twirls and giggles when trying on a new dress in front of the mirror, and I certainly don't want to take that away from her because I look miserable.  When groups of college students get far enough off the beaten path to find The Changeling, I do kind of find myself a little more drawn to the all-girl ones than the all-guy ones, just for the attitude.  And I don't know if I realized it at the time, but I felt something while talking to Calvin.

So as soon as this posts, I'll send him a long-delayed email.  Who knows

Annette & Jordan/Yuan-wei: Graduation

Annette:

This probably comes off as a little weird, but since both Jordan and I graduated from college a couple weeks ago, we figured it would make sense to do this as one post together, rather than bore you guys twice.  We were going to do it right after my graduation, but we got really busy - I'm moving in with her for the summer, and that takes some effort, we've both been looking for work, she's got immigration things to figure out...

Jordan:

We really need to get an Inn person into ICE so that we can say "I was born here" and they'll believe you and find a way to make everything work.  Sure, I'm not the sort of person those fuckers target, but who knows whether Americans will freak out about Chinese people by the time they can send me back to Hong Kong for overstaying my student visa in a couple of months.

Worrying about that sort of stuff was part of why I thought about skipping graduation altogether.  I'd done it before and it seemed kind of strange to invite those who remembered back for another one, and it also meant that Chen-ai was going to be there.  We avoid having to pretend to be family these days, but some things can't be skipped without people hitting you with way more pity or suspicion than you want to deal with.

Despite switching up my studies after my first year as Yuan-wei, graduating late or the like was never going to happen.  I didn't get the marks I'd hoped for on "I, Fembot" even though there weren't a whole lot of complaints about technique.  Someone thought it was tacky for me to use those themes and dinged me for that. 

Annette:

If only they knew!

Jordan:

Whatever; all the folks I've shown it to who have been turned from men into women and had to deal with new urges like it, and it gives me something to show prospective employers on Vimeo.  Freaked Harmon out to see the finished product, though.

And Ernesto seemed to think it was pretty decent.  He jokes about the best part being the brain he made and seeing "Alicia" vamp it up after being so prissy off-camera, and kind of doesn't entirely get that he does a lot of the "guys expect too much of women" stuff we're spoofing, but he thinks it's funny anyway and is impressed that I did some coding for some of the effects work.  He wanted me to show it to his family on Saturday night, but his grandmother seemed like she wouldn't be amused by the sex stuff.  On the other hand, not showing them stuff we'd worked on together made them positive that I was his girlfriend.

Annette:

You should be his girlfriend.

Jordan:

Even if I was interested, Chen-ai would destroy him and you know it.  You notice I haven't heard from Jacky at all since dumping him?  You'd think he'd be at least try to win me back rather than just giving up.

Annette:

Apparently not having a penis for four years doesn't get "no means no" to sink into a guy's head.

Jordan:

You're a fuckin' riot.

Anyway, Sunday was the big day.  I got a bunch of texts in the morning, half congratulations and half asking what was going on later.  I didn't get to meet anybody who had come to town for it before heading to the building, dressed a little nicer than I initially planned to.  It was hot and humid enough for cutoffs and a crop-top, but Romain was going to be there, so I did wear a nice dress under my robe.  It would have been nice to send Chen-ai home with pictures of me looking trashy, but Romain deserved better.

Annette:

Is it weird that I've got a crush on Romain and René as a couple?  Like, I want to figure out how they could fit me in?

Jordan:

YES.

Anyway, graduation was, like, pretty much the same as the first time, only longer, and I was doing it in heels this time.  Not a huge deal - I've made stilettos my bitch by now - but not ideal.  Ernesto's folks waved, Chen-ai nodded, and that was that.  I was kind of glad Romain had decided to forego sitting in the audience (even with a couple of seats between him and Chen-ai, it would have been fucking torture for him), even though he'd wanted to be here.

Chen-ai had a list of places where she wanted pictures with "her graduate", so we ran around town for the rest of the afternoon.  I think the only time we really spoke during it was when she decided she wanted a snack at Flour and set out what sort of budget I should adhere to in various cities.  We had the conversation in Mandarin, at her insistence, leading her to say Beijing was out about halfway through.

Annette:

What's the furthest from her you could reasonably go?  New York?  London?

Jordan:

You joke, but...

Annette:

So, did she just fly in for the ceremony and then leave?

Jordan:

If she did, she's got a demonic ability to avoid jet lag.  But, no, I think she arranged some business things, and I figure she wanted to talk with Bingbing at some point.

Annette:

Must have been later in the week, because I was fifth-wheeling it with her & Max & Romain & René until you got to The Changeling, and she didn't even get a text.

Speaking of, how awesome was the cake Ashlyn and Jonah got for us? 

Jordan:

FUCKING INSANE. 

Like, I know Ashlyn likes to doodle and draw, but five or six pictures of us as we were from before we went to the Inn until we're in caps and gowns printed on a lenticular card and put on the top of the cake...

And it was a damn good cake!

Annette:

Plus, the look on Max's face when you mentioned carbs...

Jordan:

The hotness does take more than good genes and yoga to maintain, sadly.  But I guess that's another thing I've learned and gotten better at these past four years, right?  Learning how to handle my body so that, no matter how it's shaped, it looks and feels right and shit.

Annette:

To tell the truth, I'm still not sure what I want to be like that.  Sandra left me kind of skinny and living with a bunch of judgmental sorority sisters after I'd just come off three years of eating like a guy.  Like, that was kind of tough on me, and it really messed me up a lot this year, trying to catch up with low blood sugar all the time because I felt like I'd forgotten how to be a woman and tried to follow their lead.

Jordan:

And yet, you brought your GPA up over your senior year.

Annette:

Not by that much, but I've got to admit, it felt good.  My    was never actually disappointed with how Sandra or I was doing, but when you come back to your original life, you want to do better, make them understand that what they've been seeing wasn't the real you.  And I think that's why all our friends from the Inn who threw us that graduation party did it as a combined thing, because they knew that I'd want the end of the week to be just for me and my mom, even if Max is the only other one I know who's really been able to come full circle like that.

Anyway, I didn't have a hot/humid commencement like you did, and guest tickets were really at a premium, but it was kind of amazing.  I felt really lucky to be graduating from such a top school, kind of pinching myself as we got closer to it.  It's stupid, I know - everyone else in the class has kind of taken going here for granted after four years, and I've experienced literal actual magic three times, with half my friends being part of a secret club that even the most elite legacies here don't know about.

But I did it!  I did it despite strange supernatural forces sending me onto other paths.  I did it despite having to spend my first year doing it from afar, living vicariously through a girlfriend, and then having to catch up.  I don't know if a tag-team post is the right place to say it (feel free to delete this paragraph when I hand you the laptop, Jordo), but there were a lot of times where even though Jordan was the person who understood what things were like for me the most, I really resented her.  Every visit to the Inn made her younger and more attractive and was like a second chance, while mine seemed to take me further from where I wanted to be, making me older and with my options seemingly narrower, and really just a stroke of luck getting me back to my real life and worried I wouldn't fit in it any more.

But I did it.  Even if I don't know what I'm going to do now.

Jordan:

Me neither.  It's kind of fucking terrifying - I don't know what country I'll be living in by the end of summer, and the whole thing with Romain the past few weeks has been goddamn weird.  He wants to be here for me finishing what he started, but he and René don't want to take back their old lives.  But that's an improvement; at least he's willing to talk with me at all now.  I think he's kind of curious what I'll make out of his old life.

Annette:

I think I'm going to wrap it up because I've got a Skype interview early tomorrow, but I want to make sure you say the thing before we hit Publish.

Jordan:

Ugh, does it have to be a fucking announcement?  (She's nodding)  Okay, fine.

I changed my name.  Back, sort of.  When I watched the finished cut of "I, Fembot", it didn't feel right, but it didn't really hit me until later that it didn't feel like mine with "A Missy Lee Film" on it.  I fucking hate being called "Missy" - not even "Melissa", just plain "Missy" - and no offense to Romain, but I can't see putting it on my résumé or in credits for movies and the like.  I can deal with "Lee Yuan-wei", but a lot of folks here want a Western name, and since Jordan can be a girl's name, I decided to reclaim it.  I'll be "Jordan Lee" from now on.  First use of that is on my diploma.

Annette:

And, honest, I think that's a way cooler graduation/commencement thing than just moving a tassel on your hat.

Jordan:

Says the person who's not filling out a bunch of forms.

Annette:

And with that, I'm going to bed.  Wish us luck as we try to figure out what tomorrow is going to bring, but in a perfectly normal way!

Harmon Keller/Alicia Polawski: The Briefest Consideration

One of Lindsey's current favorite ways to mock me is to call me melodramatic, as it is apparently a term I would occasionally apply to millennials like herself, although likely not so often as she implies.  Most of the time, the epithet is misplaced but I cannot deny that, in the aftermath of the man currently wearing my face making me look like a fool at a conference in December, I started to wonder if, perhaps, I should abandon the life I had lived for over sixty years.  Though I would certainly have the opportunity to produce important new work for years to come, would I be able to attract good collaborators or re-engage with the dozens of other academic matters which my substitute had allowed to languish?  The thought of having to rebuild my reputation at this point in my life was dreadful.

It was awful enough, in fact, that I started to think seriously about leaving my life behind.  Under that scenario, I would not remain Alicia Polawski - the thought of living my days out like this sends a chill down my spine - but I would find some other life to live.  The would be an element of randomness, and I might back off once I see what is available, but as the time to start booking rooms in an appropriate chain came, it seemed like a reasonable option to consider.

I did not share this with Lindsey - she has the date reservations open circled on the calendar, a reminder in her phone, and frequent conversations with the Coopers about what they are doing with our lives, commitments being made, and the like.  She has also taken to creating scenarios where somehow the Inn's magic can be acknowledged and legal arguments can be made about how one has acted while living another's life, or steering people to the Inn.  It is complete sophistry that requires one to treat the Inn as simultaneously an unacknowledgeable force of nature and something that can be brought into a court of law, and this pointless.  She claims the ethical considerations are interesting in and of themselves, and that it's a way to quantify what Inn visitors can expect from each other.  As such, she would very likely disapprove of my leaving someone else with my life and appropriating another.

Rather than consider theory, I was instead more ingesting talking to people with practical experience, which was why, when it was time to choose routes for January, I made a request to have a few days off in a row in Boston.  It may not be a particular favorite place to visit, especially in the middle of winter, but it has the biggest cluster of people living lives other than the one that they were born into that I know about, and I thought it might be useful to learn what particular challenges such people faced. 

We met in the Changeling bar, which took some getting to - once I de-planed, it was an expensive cab ride to get across Boston and Cambridge to the suburb of Arlington - but which the people I was meeting said was where they liked to meet for Inn stuff, both because it could be difficult for Ashlyn to get away and because they liked to support each other.  So, that was where I met Ashlyn, Penelope, Ray, Annette, and Yuan-wei.

I was still wearing my uniform from the flight, which made it easy enough for them to call me over.  Given the range of ages and Yuan-wei being Chinese, it was easy enough to match names to faces, although it still took me somewhat by surprise to see that Yuan-wei wore stockings and heels while Annette was wearing denim jeans, with Ashlyn in a tight top with holes at the shoulders.  I knew, intellectually, that they had all been in other shapes longer than I and had acclimated, but it still surprised me that they would choose such feminine attire during their own free time.  Though only Ashlyn truly had the same sort of figure that I had been cursed with, the attention it garnered was enough of a bother that I could hardly fathom wanting to encourage it.  But, of course they are closer to their apparent age than I, so maybe they saw it differently.

They would soon prove unsympathetic to my enquiries.  Initially, they offered their condolences, tempered with surprise that the Coopers would not be relinquishing or lives, since that was not the impression they got from Lindsey's post of a few days before.  As soon as I said that, too the best of my knowledge, they were in fact planning to return to their own lives, the whole group seemed at a loss for words until Annette broke the silence.

"You'd...  You'd just let your real life go?"

"Young lady, ones reputation is ones life in academia.  If that has been irrevocably damaged, is it really my life any more?"

"Well, yeah," she answered.  "I mean, that's not really your whole life.  There's family, and friends, and...  You know, everything but the job."

I shrugged, mentioning that my patents were gone and I had no children of my own.  There are not that many ties that would be severed.

Penelope, the writer, said that may be true in one direction, but not necessarily the other.  "Have you ever heard of Impostor Syndrome?  I know a bunch of successful writers who are almost crippled by it, thinking that their success is an illusion and undeserved, and any minute people are going to see they're a fraud.  Now, I don't get the impression you are anything less than competent confident in your element, but I want as Arthur Milligan, either.  Still, unless you manage to parachute into a complete blank slate, you're going to get hit with the same symptoms, only for real.  My wedding almost destroyed me, for instance, and I need to take pills to sleep any day I've had any sort of meaningful interaction with the original Penny's parents.  And the fear of other moms judging me is...  Look, I'm happy most of the time.  If I hadn't gone to the Inn that first time, I would have never met this guy, and if Germy hadn't stolen my life, I never would have considered trying to make it work, but it's not destiny and it's not easy; it's being lucky and having outlets into which I can channel my other selves."

Her red-haired friend picked that up.  "What she said.  I thought my own life being stolen was a blessing in disguise, justification for continuing to be Ashlyn, which was and is really fun.  But there is something missing sometimes, especially since you never really know what that easy, fun life is going to be like ten years down the road."

"Well, I wouldn't be subjecting myself to the change in sex if I can possibly help it."

"It's not just that," said Annette, "I went from female to male at first, and that made some things easier, but letting go of your identity is hard.  I was so glad when I could be myself again."

I turned to look at Yuan-wei, and she held up her hands.  "Don't look at me to contradict her!  My life has gotten ten times better since my brother's been part of it again, and I still can't bring myself to call Benny by 'Jordan'.  I'm doing really well, but I ain't gonna tell you the decision want fucking difficult!"

I wasn't convinced, but soon the food arrived and ended the conversation.  The people who knew each other wound up playing catch-up, and I eventually wound up waiting with Yuan-wei for a car back to her apartment, where I would be staying the night.  She stared at me, squinted a bit, and then asked my cup size.

"I beg your pardon!"

She then told me about the last few scenes of her student film needing to shoot over the weekend despite the lead actress having walked off the set, leaving a few custom-fitted costumes behind.  I may not be quite as busty as this "Bree" person, but I was closer to fitting her costumes than Yuan-wei was herself.  Ashlyn had apparently been her first choice, but she couldn't schedule it around the bar's needs.  I blanched when he told me what the parts were - mindless sex robots dressed in skimpy costumes, assisting some sort of mad scientist - but it is somewhat difficult to turn down a request from the person offering one her spare room for the evening while waiting for a car to arrive in the freezing cold.

I should have summoned the courage to do so.

It was not as simple as just slipping on a costume, staring gladly, and saying a few inanities.  Because the performers whose secondary roles I was filling in was quite busty, Yuan-wei arranged to meet the girl doing costumes early, so that she could get a quick look at me before we made our way not to the locations, but to the a butcherie.  There she examined packages of chicken breasts in what seemed like a peculiar manner until buying a few before we continued to the laboratory space Yuan-wei had rented.  There was a small changing area rigged with curtains, and I was handed thong panties, white fishnet stockings, and something like a "sexy nurse" Halloween costume, including a corset.  I initially thought the panties would be the worst part of it, and thought I would get out of it without doing anything because the costume wouldn't zip up.  That when the costumer came in and with an absurdly casual "excuse me" stated paying at my chest, placing the chicken breasts in the costume's cups and arranging things so that someone looking from the outside could find no border between them and my own mammaries.  I thought that would be it until she had me lay down on a table and started sewing the costume up.  After that, someone came to apply make-up and I was given a mirror to look in.  I looked ridiculous.

Yuan-wei intercepted the seamstress as she was approaching with a frightening pair of shoes, bringing them to me herself.  "I'm gonna guess you've never worn anything with this sort of heel before."

"Of course I haven't."

"Well, just see how you do.  I looked over the footage last night and I think we can mostly get away with shooting you in the heels while standing still and maybe rig some 2x4s for you to walk on.  If we can't, try holding your arms out at an angle like this, palms parallel to the floor, and placing one foot directly in from of the other while looking straight ahead."  She demonstrated.  "The arms actually make you look sexier while helping your balance, but it's kind of showy for real life.  Your lines are pretty simple, and if you can't do breathy -- 'is there anything else, Doctor?' -- don't worry about it, I can ADR later."

I could do "breathy", of course - the more Marilyn Monroe I put into my lines, the more she liked it.   Though I stumbled a few times early on and was grateful for the moments between takes when I could sit and rest my feet, the actual shooting was mostly rather dull.  Something like two hours over the course of the day seemed to just be spent on having me stand at a different location and stare blankly so that she could later paste it all together so that it looked like there were a half-dozen of these nurse/lab-assistant robots in the room.  There was also a great deal of tape on the floor, especially when shooting a scene where three of me were helping the main actor implant a man's brain in another robot's body, with some hastily-added dialogue about it being a different model.

I seemed some resentment from the cast, but paid it no heed.  They were just actors, after all, and ones who had to work for peanuts in student films.  I daresay by the end of the day, they had a certain level of respect for the work I was doing the first time around.

It was nevertheless a relief to get to the end of the day, be cut out of that costume and apply adhesive bandages to my ankles after a shower to wash the smell of raw meat and perspiration from my body. 

Sunday would prove an even more peculiar day.  While Saturday had mostly been building one particular sequence from every angle, Sunday had us shooting in Yuan-wei's apartment.  This time, I was given a similarly farcical French maid's costume - once again having my chest augmented and being sewn in - but I worked with different actors, including the director, who served as Bree's double so that I had a proper eye-line and voices to react to.  As a person who feels that work is best done focusing on one thing, this constant shifting was tremendously aggravating, and my cast-mates' occasional impatience entirely unwarranted.  We eventually got all we could done before I had to work a flight back out to the west coast.  It was clear Yuan-wei wanted to do more even if the cast was ready to be done hours ago, especially since I had established early on that I could not stay later than a certain time and all the innuendo withwhich Miss Lee's friend Ernesto and my co-star were peppering their conversation would be for naught.

After I had showered and changed into my work clothes, I saw Yuan-wei smirking.  "Still thinking of spending the rest of your life pretending to be someone else?"

I have her a withering look.  "Was that the point of this, young lady?"

"Nah, I just needed a girl who fit the costume, and you saved my [behind] there.  But, like Annette said a billion times while working on the script, it's never just one thing."

I suppose, I said, that this is true when writing a story, but I nevertheless wished I had more time to speak with the more experienced people about how they had applied their previous life experience to their new lives, but I had opted to give of my own time instead.

I did, perhaps, look at the various passengers on the flight "home" (and on others during the subsequent weeks) and find myself a little less convinced that I could drop into their lives with relatively little complication.  There would be details and obligations that I doubt I would have the stomach for.  In some ways, Alicia's life is relatively simple in that respect - she interacts with different people every day and lives with her mother, who is also someone else - but even more than when dealing with people on the plane, this solidified my lack of desire to have much dealing with the people more interested in Alicia's body than my mind.

My true life may have been somewhat battered, then, with undue setbacks, but it is clearly the best situation to which I can return, and I am quite happy that Lindsey and I have already been able to calculate the proper time to return to Old Orchard Beach and have booked the room where we shall become ourselves again.

-Harmon Keller

Jonah/Krystle: Just Me and My Family

I saw Krystle off on her "gap-year" adventure earlier in the week, driving her down to Boston's Logan Airport, and it was surprisingly emotional for me.  You'd think, after a couple years of what I've been through - the sex change, pregnancy, having Little Moira, and for much of the time living under the same roof as Krystle pretending to be me - just driving someone somewhere wouldn't be such a big deal, but seeing what looks like your own body walking away is kind of a gut-punch.

I thought it was just the sight of it, but when I went to The Changeling so that Moira and Ashlyn could see their namesake, Ashlyn had a different take on it.  She pointed out that, even though I've been living as Krystle for two years now, this is the first time I've really seen the person in my place doing something with my life that's about their own wishes rather than keeping things in place.  Even the guy who got me pregnant wasn't talking about himself or whoever he sold my life to doing something other than living that life as it was.  For Ashlyn, it was just a few months before her old business had changed, so she had to get used to the idea of it early, but it was an easy thing for most of the rest of us to take for granted, especially if we figured on getting back to normal.

It was a short conversation, because soon Moira was there and going nuts over how big the baby was, saying that we'd have to come up with some way off telling the the pale Irish redhead and the nappy-haired black baby apart besides one being called "Little".  She went into full-fledged baby-talk mode soon enough, even while talking about how her boyfriend would absolutely freak at seeing her playing with the baby and saying is been too long since the last visit.

Soon business picked up up and I headed back down the road to see Momma Kamen, Karla, and her kids, who were all pretty excited to see their cousin.  Karla looked pretty good - I guess things are going pretty well for her right now - and she was actually more able to joke with me about single-mom stuff than lord how I was down on her level now over me; as much as the arguments between her and Krystle are wedged in deep, I guess they've weakened over the time she's been dealing with me.  Momma Kamen did pull me aside afterward and ask what my plans were now that my baby-daddy was way out of the picture like this.  I told her that me and "his" parents had become close enough that there wasn't much chance of them abandoning me.  A lifetime of dealing with Karla's and Krystle's messes has apparently left her suspicious on that count, but she wished me the best and told me that, if they ever changed their mind, I'd still have a place with them.

It's something I've given a bit of thought to this week, as we settled in to the new arrangement at home, and Mom and Dad really had to deal with the fact that their son is now a young single mom a little more directly.  It's not like they've been denying it, but they could occasionally kind of lump me and Krystle together, like there was this vague "Jonah&Krystle" thing and they could think of either the apparent eighteen-year-old guy or the apparent twenty-four-year-old girl as whichever one of us is convenient, but now there's just me, and there's no thinking of me as just half their son.

I'm not sure whether it helps or not that I was kind of quick to reassert that.  I moved back into my old room right away, and though Dad kind of shook his head at me filing the top drawer of my bureau with bras and panties, he also helped me assemble a crib so that the spare room where I'd been sleeping with Little Moira could be a full-on nursery.  She's gotten too big and too good at pulling herself up for the Finnish-style baby box she's been sleeping in since birth (I wonder if Mom and Dad will give it more credit now that the person who gave it to me is "Annette" rather than "Benjamin"), but the spare room is pretty small for a bed, a crib, and a changing table, especially if if I wanted to have a spot for my laptop and a chair in there.  Krystle leaving now was kind of good timing.

And I've got a car now!  It's the one Mom and Dad gave to Jonah #2, and this got handed down to Krystle, so it's kind of always technically been "mine", but Krystle got attached to it and since she had a job and I was just looking after the baby, I really haven't had much chance to drive it before taking her to the airport.  It's not new and cool and I suspect I'd like it a lot more if I wasn't always worried from putting the girl in a rear-facing car seat in the back, but I've already signed Moira up for swimming lessons and a couple other things to get us out of the house.

Of course, those cost money, as does gas, and Mom and Dad have already pointed out that even if I were myself again, I'd be too old for an allowance.  So I'm looking for a job, probably waitressing a few nights a week, hoping that Mom and Dad won't be too upset about watching Moira.  They seem kind of open to it now, but, like I said, I kind of worry about them not seeing me as their son and Moira as their granddaughter now that me and Krystle aren't a package deal anymore.

I kind of need that outlet, too.  As much as I love my parents and am starting to find it hard to imagine little Moira not being somewhere nearby, all my friends have started college or don't know they should know me (and would probably have their folks tell them, in a barely-racist way, that they didn't want to spend too much time with the unwed mother five years older than they are), and it can be tough if you're not naturally a me-against-the-world type.

Gotta say, though - it doesn't suck to be sleeping in my own bed and have my parents to myself, even if nothing else is the same.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Moira Ashlyn Kamen

January 22, 2017, 20.5 inches, 8 pounds.  Beautiful.  That last part is still true even if the middle seems like it didn't last very long at all.

Contractions started during church, and while I've tried to move on from thinking that God is trying to make some sort of object lesson out of me, there are times when you can't help but think that.  The Reverend wasn't doing a sermon on premarital sex or deadbeat dads or anything today, but, still, when you cry out because suddenly your body has decided to loudly announce a new way to hurt in the middle of a crowd of people who don't think they would ever let things come to this, the embarrassment is almost just as painful.

Krystle, bless her, recognized what was going on practically before I did, and quickly got me out to the car and was almost on the way to the hospital before my parents caught up.  That was actually kind of surprising; she had been reluctant to be much of a part of getting ready, not really wanting "Jonah" to be seem as too feminine or tagged as the father.  It's a weird thing that none of us really figured out how to approach, because Krystle isn't, the whole "cousin" story is meant to keep me from having this in my background later, and the actual guy who knocked me up has basically said "try and prove it".  But, when the moment came, she was there, even for the actual birth.  I guess she decided she wanted to see it.

I kind of wish I could have skipped out on experiencing it.  As bizarre as the previous months of being pregnant were, being hyper-aware of this other person inside you, that eventually started moving on her own while your body does all these weird hormone things that make no sense, suddenly having her want OUT, but still needing you to push...?  It's all that plus really terrifying, like something out of a horror movie.  And that's regular-girl stuff - halfway to the hospital, I looked at Krystle and asked what would happen if I didn't know how.  Like, I still have a guy's brain, and what if it didn't come pre-wired to push a baby out?  She looked kind of horrified for a second, then said that couldn't be the case, because I was able to do what was necessary to get knocked up in the first place, but I said I mostly just lied there.  We were about two minutes from calling Penny to find out if she'd had to have a c-section when another contraction came and bearing down seemed like the thing to do.

I can't really describe the feeling of it - I don't know if regular women find the whole thing unreal their first (or ONLY) time, but it was like I wasn't in the real world for a while.  The bits of me that I just thought of as hurting when I had my menstrual cramps suddenly needed to be used, Krystle and my parents were frantic, and then I pushed someone out and there was just a while bunch of stuff I wasn't ready for:  The placenta, the sight of the umbilical cord coming out of me along with her, little bits of unexpected hair...  They don't show that stuff when someone has a baby on TV, and I guess I missed health class being a grown woman for the past couple years!

And then she started to cry and I snapped out of it, really looking at her when the doctor put her in my arms, and kind of feeling amazed that she was alive and beautiful, and that I hasn't screwed her up.

* * *

Names were kind of a hot potato for a while leading up to the big day.  It's kind of due to us not really knowing what was going to happen after the baby was born, just having strong opinions on what wasn't going to.  When I asked Krystle about names, she said she didn't want to have anything to do with that, although Mom said she should, because she was going to be the baby's mother.  On the other hand, she didn't want a name from her family tree, because that would taint it or something.  I bought a couple of baby-name books - one kind of generic, one more African-American - but nothing spoke to me.

So when the nurses asked, it was another quick decision, but I decided to go with the names of the two ladies who had looked out for me whether they knew the whole truth or not.  "Moira Ashlyn" seems like an absolutely ridiculous name for a girl who seems to have gotten all the genes for dark skin that Krystle and I have between us, but in that moment, I wanted to give her a name that really represented that sort of love, and none of the ones that did mean that seemed to mean it as much as that one.

* * *

It meant Moira and Ashlyn had to visit and see their namesake, of course.  Ashlyn had to come up for the baptism, since I'd asked her to be the Godmother, but it was not exactly a hardship from the way they cooed and tickled and asked if they could hold her.  We'd never really had a shower, so Ashlyn took the opportunity to bring Changeling onesies, teddy bears, and a big box of diapers from the other waitresses.

She admittedly wasn't sure about the whole Godmother thing.  I don't know what she believed before visiting the Inn, but she's not really a churchgoer these days - as much as the experience shows you that there's some sort of greater force out there, Ashlyn had met a lot of Inn visitors, including a creepy stalker, so it's hard for her to see it as part of God's Plan.  She's not quite a non-believer, I don't think, but she's not devoted.  Still, I can't think of anyone is trust to raise this little girl more if anything happened to me, Krystle, my folks, her folks...  Putting it that way seemed to take a load off her mind.

They were the easy visitors.  Momma Kamen and Karla also came up for the baptism, and it was uncomfortable.  Krystle's mom really was not keen on being presented as some sort of distant relative so that "Jonah" could have his reputation intact, and that disdain clearly hurt Krystle.  She also REALLY doesn't get along with Karla, no matter who she looks like.  The good news is that babies can magically smooth over a lot.  Moira's cousins were really excited to meet her, so Karla put a happier face on for them, and "Momma" may have been upset at my family, but she seemed to feel good when she got to hold Moira, and privately suggested that maybe being in this new place was good for me, keeping me from falling back into old habits.  

The funny thing is, she kind of doesn't know how right she is, in that Krystle is doing real well being me.

* * *

I've never been as popular with the girls in my class as I was a a pregnant woman and now as a new mother.

Part of "me" being popular is Krystle, of course.  She hooked up with a couple of the girls that went to the Inn, they spread the word that "Jonah" was a terrific lover who really knew how to please a girl, and things happened from there.  I didn't exactly like the reputation as a player he was building for me, but it's difficult to argue too much when you've got a baby on the way.

Still, all the girls who went to the Inn with me have gotten even nicer since Moira was born.  All the complicated stuff seems to have been replaced with "OMG BABY!!!!"  Maybe it wouldn't quite be the same with the other girls at school - if you were taking a trip with your church youth group, your probably a bit more traditional - but they seem to enjoy hanging around and helping out when they can.

One, in particular, has gotten real close.  She doesn't really like to talk about it, but I think she had a near miss on having to make the sort of choice I did.  At any rate, she's around a lot, speaks up to defend me when someone suggests that they think there must have been another way, that sort of thing.

It really feels like there could be something there when things get back to normal, and that's a wonderful feeling, since most of the time, even with Mom and Dad and Krystle and everyone helping, Little Moira takes up enough of my life that "back to normal" seems impossible to conceive.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: 31 Weeks

This has been sitting in "Drafts" for a couple of months, seeming too personal for most of that time, but if I'm going to post again, I guess I'd better put it up...

How do you know I've turned into a for-real pregnant woman?  I'm measuring it in weeks, rather than the "nine months" that people who haven't discussed milestones with an OB/GYN use.

With a due date in January, I'm pretty big by now, although I've got a ways to go and grow still, and I don't know if I'm living up to Penny's claims that former guys make the craziest pregnant ladies, but there are certainly days when I feel completely insane.  I cried at a movie the other night, and it wasn't some thing about somebody's husband dying of cancer - it was Mad Max Fury Road, a spectacularly bad idea on Moira's part.  I mean, it's a fantastic movie, but as soon as Moira remembered what happened to Splendid, she tried to drag me out, although it was Furiosa realizing she had brought the wives to certain doom that got me.  All that on top of not being the great way to celebrate a woman thwarting a bloated jerk Moira thought it would be, either.

I am so going to miss President Obama.  Mom and Dad always said I wouldn't appreciate what he meant for them, but given what the next four years may hold, I just might, and if nothing else, I don't know how I could have gotten through all this without Obamacare.  Doctors' visits are expensive, and even bosses as understanding as Ashlyn don't give hourly employees that kind of benefit.

It's crazy.  As much as I haven't had to spend too much of my salary on just being pregnant - Karla handed me down some maternity wear, though I've had to buy new bras as these breasts somehow got even bigger - it's insanely stressful, and I just wake up in the middle of the night wondering how I'm going to screw this up.  Not being a mother, but just carrying this baby and giving birth.

I didn't worry about being a mother because Krystle (Krystle-slash-Jonah, if she wrote here) was ahead of the game in searching out adoption agencies, even going so far as to start making assortments for me to meet prospective couples, but that was before yesterday, when I was getting dressed for work when my phone buzzed with a text.  "were on r way 2 c u", it said, then "ur mom looking in ur computer is f-ed up", and "told her all shed believe".

I stared at the phone for a few minutes, and then collapsed on the floor.  As prone to panic as I am over this whole situation, I really never have much thought to what would happen if we didn't get away with it.   I just assumed that I would have this baby, go back to the Inn, and whole Mom and Dad would think I'd been weird for a while, we'd eventually get back to normal, and they would never know how I had let them down.

It's going to sound weird, but my first instinct was to make sure they thought it wasn't their son's fault.  I called Moira to say I wouldn't be in because my baby's father and his parents were making a surprise visit, and then I looked in the closet to see what there was.  Should I dress like a slut, or would it just make them more disappointed in "me" to think that their son had been taken in by someone so transparent?  I shouldn't look reluctant.  I messed around with makeup, trying to look younger so that we could say we were mistaken about each other's ages, tried heels for the first time in months, and chose a top that really emphasized my cleavage.  How could a kid resist those when their owner showed an interest?  Then I puked for the first time in a few weeks, hating the idea of lying to my family.

There was no time to change back, though, and soon the doorbell was ringing.  I went through the charade of asking who was there, Krystle said "Jonah", and when I said if come down, I heard Dad say they would come up.

It's weird to see my family as a family, including Krystle in the part of me.  She's kind of uncomfortable, my mom is furious, and my dad finds his eyes drawn to my chest, and suddenly emphasizing that seems like a really bad idea.  I grab the neckline of my top and try to pull it closed, and he looks away.  Krystle tries her best to stifle a laugh at that.

"Something funny, young man?"

"No, uh, Mom, not really."

Mom looks at me, not happy with what she sees.  "If it was another teenager, I could almost understand it, but you..."  She looks around the apartment, sees the kids' things.  "And it's not even your first!"

Krystle started to look upset, so I said it was, but my sister...  Mom makes a little sound, Dad shakes his head, and I want to defend her, but see Krystle rolling her eyes and I guess that would be out of character.  Mom looks like she's going to say something else, but Dad steps in, saying he just doesn't understand how this happened.  Krystle snorts, saying he should know where babies come from, and I cringe.  Dad gives her a look, but then says he just wants to know how we got to that point.  Was it an on-line thing, who went where, all that.

We don't really have a story beyond the barest facts, so we improvise - "he" took a day trip to Boston during April Vacation, we ducked into a doorway during a downpour, more people did, so bits of us were touching...  I guess we had lunch, something about a date from a friend of Krystle's...  Then she was going off about it being a threesome, and I'm thinking, whoa, is that something Krystle does?  Or maybe it's just a way to get Mom to shout that she doesn't want to hear any more; she's been in my home long enough to know what pushes Mom's buttons. 

It gets her to change the subject, at least, saying that how "that one" ended up pregnant didn't matter, but that she wasn't going to let us give her grandchild up to some stranger.  She takes another look around the room and asks me if I had any plans to get a place of my own, since "Jonah" says I have a job.  Krystle jumps in there, saying "she does, but it is NOT going to have a nursery".  Mom looks at her and says that's hardly your decision, so I try and salvage it, saying I'm not ready.  Dad asks if I think "he" is, and I'm totem Berwyn answering it the way I hope Krystle might, saying a kid still in high school isn't, and the way I think they would want me to if I were my right self, stumbling.  That's when Mom says she wasn't exactly ready to be one of those women raising her grandchild,  that she couldn't imagine me ever putting her in that situation, and that's when I start crying like crazy.

I don't feel like I'm having any sorry of revelation or change of mind or anything, but I let it spoil out that I never wanted to disappoint her, or either of them, but it didn't feel life I had a choice.  Mom says...  Well, I forget how she says that even if she's known Krystle existed, it wouldn't be possible for her to be disappointed in that girl, but it's crushing, and I almost can't help telling them everything. 

It gets real quiet, and Dad seems shaken, not quite believing it, but kind of rolling everything I'd said around in his head.  Mom takes a moment and decides to go with "how dare you suggest I don't know my own son", while Krystle gives me this open-handed "you crazy?" look. I sigh, feeling a little more crushed, because I hadn't done this as a long shot but just because I'd had to, and now I'd made things worse.

Then Dad asked a question, and I answered, and then there was another, and a third, and Mom really didn't know what to say, which gave Dad a chance to tell me to pack some things, because I was coming with them. 

Mom said no way, but Dad told her that this was how it was always ending anyway - they weren't just going to leave this girl waiting tables and riding the subway and trying to fit a seventh person into a two-bedroom apartment,  especially with the baby due in the middle of winter, were they?  And if I was telling the truth, my friends - who, remember, were acting awful weird for about a year - might be able to verify it.

I ran up to hug them both, which was awkward in different ways - Dad didn't seem to entirely believe me, so it wasn't entirely like his son hugging him, and Mom was very reluctant to show any potential for affection to this girl who had messed up her family's life.  I wobbled on the heels, and gratefully whipped them off to throw across the room, explaining that I never wore them but was trying to scare them off.  I practically forgot to close the door before getting into sweatpants and a hoodie.  Neither Krystle or her family had a real suitcase, so I threw some things into a couple of Karla's shopping bags, including the sneakers Missy got me and some stuff out of the laundry.

My folks hadn't changed my mind when I got back out, so I ran to the door before they did, thinking of all the people I'd have to call.  I was pretty sure Ashlyn would forgive my quitting on such short notice, although Moira would be a more difficult conversation, more so than Jordan/Missy and Annette/Benjamin because she didn't know why I would just up and leave with the guy who knocked me up right away.  Nor would Momma Kamen, but I figured she might secretly be a bit relieved to have a little more breathing room, as well as expecting some impulsive, not great-looking decision-making from Krystle. 

Who, seeing how things had switched around, felt free to drop out of character.  "How the f--- you get them to go for that?  I spent like three f---in' months before tryin' to get through!"

I didn't have an answer beyond what everyone says about it sometimes being possible at big changes, which disappointed her.  "Well, s---.  Thanks to Karla, finding out that your daughter's knocked up ain't no big thing to Momma.  B----."

Mom and Dad started to scold her about language, but seeing their "sun" suddenly talk like a lower-class woman who spotted stripping more out of necessity than lack of interest seemed to have just as much effect on them as the pregnant woman making a reasonable case that she was really their son.  It wound up being pretty quiet on the way to the car and on the ride back to New Hampshire. 

And now I'm home, and it's weird.  Krystle and I both went to my bedroom at first, until we decide I should probably take the spare room for appearances.  Dinner was uncomfortable.  This is going to take some getting used to. 

-Jonah/Krystle