Krystle Marie Kamen Potts, née Jonah Glass

As a teenage boy, I used to roll my eyes at women talking about their weddings being the best days of their lives, but oh my god, they might have been onto something.  I mean, the day my daughter was born is right up there, but that hurt!

Like I said yesterday, I was up early, because if a regular woman has regular wedding day jitters, I was tripling down with how this is a day when people might believe the story of the Inn even without a seemingly-friendly Mackenzie there.  Then I made a coffee because edgy isn't exactly the same thing as energetic, and, oh boy, I was wired when everybody - Momma Kamen, the bridesmaids, Little Moira, the wedding planner - showed up.

Because imagine every joke about waiting for a girl to get ready before a date, and then being thrown into a situation where they're not only real, but they don't go half far enough, because not only is this the date, but you're a gym girl who can do casually sexy but has to take advice from everybody else about "pretty".  So I'm trying to brush the perm I got Thursday back into shape and Karla is like girl, come on, you know you're going to need product for that, and then I'm sitting still so she can put it in and do whatever she does to give it body while Momma Kamen is exfoliating my feet because I'm gonna be barefoot at some point and it wouldn't do to be the slightest bit ashy.  Once that's done, folks are painting my nails white to match my dress, really concentrating so it looks perfect, which makes me feel kind of silly because I'm wearing the camisole and pajama shorts I put on after I showered.

Then the dress.  Did I mention there's a corset?  There's a corset.  Unlike the first dress I tried with one, it's not the torture device guys tend to think it is - it's just a way to get your boobs riding high, and if it hurts it's too tight - but the first time someone tightens those laces it's like, damn, what did I get myself into?  There's garters and stockings and tiny little buttons on the back, and it's all made of lace, so you feel like any sort of movement will tear it.  I'm sure folks who were born ladies will laugh, saying it's tougher than it looks, but it's also pure white, which means you're afraid to touch anything, including the daughter whose namesake decided to give her chocolate when she was saying she was bored and hungry!

Then there's makeup, and I don't know about anyone else, but sitting still while someone fusses about your face or tells you to close your eyes so they can paint the lids blue feels unnatural, especially when it's being done by a "sister" who has issues with her sibling that extend long past the point where you became that sibling.  Somehow, during all this, all my friends and family have changed into their own fancy dresses which are not nearly so complicated.  Jordan puts my four-inch heels on my feet, and I kind of wobble as I stand up, because even though I've gotten to the point where heels don't embarrass me very often, but I'm still pretty wary about a whole day in them. 

I gasp when I finally looked in the mirror.  I looked amazing, the absolute best version of Krystle Kamen, and after the previous night, I didn't feel terribly guilty saying that, and not just because it was an army of women getting me glammed up.  Even the parts that were unmistakably me, the climber's arms and legs that I sometimes feel make me look mannish, just seemed like the way they were supposed to be. 

Moira agreed.  "You look so pretty, mommy!"

Jordan leaned in.  "Kind of defies belief sometimes, doesn't it?"

I nodded, and we got in the limo.  I barely had time to enjoy that I was in a limousine before we got to the church and were ushered into a side room. 

My father was waiting there; with Krystle's out of the picture, Momma Kamen had agreed to let him give me away.  I'd initially kind of bristled at the idea of being "given away", and not just for feminist "I'm not property" or Inn-girl "I'm really a man" reasons. I'd struck out on my own to make a life for myself years ago, and wasn't moving from my father's house to my husband's.  On the other hand, it was a way to involve my dad, whose eyes bugged when he saw me. 

"My God."

"I know!  It's crazy!  But here we are!"

"Here we are."  He stiffly offered an arm, and I pulled my veil down before taking it.

The organ started, and my bridesmaids filled out after Gabriel's little cousins who were serving as ring beater and flower girl.  They paired off with the groomsmen, except for Little Moira, who I gather was a little ham, directing her glance all over the church and waving at everyone she knew.

Then the music changed and it was our turn.  The aisle seemed miles long with everyone looking at us, and I did almost stumble a couple times.  As I mentioned last week, there were a lot more of Gabe's folks in the church than mine, which did maybe make me feel a bit more like I was being "given away".  Eventually, we got to the altar, and my dad presented me to Gabe, saying he couldn't have any idea what "this girl" meant to him, before going back a couple rows to sit with Mom. 

I'd meet the minister a couple days earlier, and he was a nice older man, formally retired a couple years ago but occasionally officiating for folks like Gabe who had attended his church when they were younger but who didn't have any connection to his replacement.  He didn't make me feel diminished or like an interloper, which I would occasionally see happen in our church back home. Our vows were pretty close to the standard (no "obey"); I had made a go at writing my own but as you might imagine, I always felt like I was leaving important pieces out when telling our love story.  Even saying we re-connected during the pandemic when others were coming apart seemed like too big a lie to speak in church, to me. 

At last the "I Do" bit came and I said it with surprisingly little hesitation.  When he slipped the wedding band onto my finger, it felt different from the engagement ring, a tiny handshake that doesn't let go rather than a weight.  I'd wear jewelry more often if it felt like that. 

Then came "You may kiss the bride", and, folks, have you ever been kissed on the mouth in a spot made for everyone to be looking at you?  Not just in public where you don't care if people see you, but where people seeing you is the whole point?  It's pretty heady; I don't think I even heard everyone cheering and stomping their feet until I came up for air! 

There were pictures, then, and then the reception, and I've got to admit, last night is sort of a blur.  Gabe's best man made a really nice speech, and Karla did not feel the need to list all the ways this life had been self-sabotaged before I inherited it, which was nice for Mackenzie, I imagine.  Gabe did wonder who the white girl in Dominic's seat was, and I don't even remember what sort of explanation I gave.  His cousins liked her, though, especially when they discovered the redhead could dance. 

So much dancing!  One of the groomsmen said I had dancers' legs from all my time in the gym, but even those start to get sore after a couple of hours where everyone wants to dance with the bride.  It went on well past my daughter being ready to drop, but apparently the kids being brought up to their rooms and being put to bed is the point where everyone can leave their heels on their seats and bop around in stockings or bare feet. 

Eventually, even Mackenzie and Gabe's best man were ready to give up.  Gabe came to the bridal site with me and waited on the bed while I touched up my makeup and got out of my dress to reveal the lingerie underneath.  I walked out to display myself to him and he gave a big, relaxed smile.  I crawled on top of him and we started undressing each other, kissing and caressing until we were making love. 

I'm pretty sure I haven't had sex without a condom since that first time - immediately getting pregnant while you still think of yourself as a guy makes an impression! - and while it wasn't night and day, it felt a bit different, especially when we came and I could really feel it inside.  It felt so good, and it just generally feels good to feel safe doing it because I trust him to be there for me no matter what.

After that, we slept practically until check-out time, barely having time to dress (in t-shirt, yoga pants, and slip-on sneakers) and pack before heading down for brunch.  That was nice, but chaotic, though it was kind of nice that it was mostly my friends and family, since they were in the hotel and Gabe's folks were all home or at church.  That meant there was some of what Zee might call "Inn-uendo" floating around, but not too much - Mom and Dad really aren't great with being reminded that Jordan was also a guy once upon a time, and Mackenzie flew home without saying goodbye - and it was fun to kind of hold court for a while, saying hi to everyone before they got on their flights and headed home or, like Jordan and Momma Kamen and us, to their next stops.

Indeed, I'm writing this from mid-air, on our way to our honeymoon in Cape Verde!  Gabe's made a plan for being up and on the right time when we arrive that involves sleeping pills and caffeine, and maybe it will work, but Jordan's got more experience with international travel and she says to power through until you are exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as your head hits a pillow at 10pm local time and then wake up refreshed at a reasonable hour the next day.  Momma Kamen will be staying at the house and making sure Moira gets to school for a week, probably spoiling her rotten, but I'm really looking forward to just being with Gabe for that time.

-Krystle Marie Kamen Potts!

Jonah/Krystle: Costume Season

I don't really think my childhood was weird, or even different in a way that's out of line with being Krystle, but every once in a while, I get reminded that I might be the weird guy in some situations even if I'd never heard of the Trading Post Inn. 

Like, Sunday afternoon, Calvin's friend Annalise had a six-hour layover in Boston on the way from Bangor to Atlanta, so we decided to meet for an early dinner.  She asks what Little Moira is up to, and I say mostly blocks, although she can't decide if she wants to be an architect or Godzilla.  She says that at least that's Halloween sorted, and I chuckle, saying that she add the second person today to talk about getting a Halloween costume for a girl who isn't even three yet, and the first time, can you believe it, was right outside church!

Annalise gives me the "I don't expect people under fifty to mention church" look (something,  thankfully, Calvin doesn't do anymore) before glancing at Calvin, who shrugs and then looking back at me.  "Is..... that weird?"

I shrug.  "Only if you think suddenly talking up a pagan celebration of witchcraft outside the Lord's house is weird."

Annalise half-chuckles and nods, saying that's fair, but Calvin looks like I've just said something ridiculous. 

"If that's how you feel, why'd you say you were up for Big Stu's party on Saturday?"

Because I honestly hadn't given the date much thought when I answered Calvin's text, I thought.

"Because I am!  I'm looking forward to it, I just think Halloween stuff a at church is kind of out of place, is all!" I said.

Don't get the wrong idea, it's not like I don't like Halloween; even though my parents would make annual noises about how it was a gateway to satanism and paganism, they handed candy out and bought me a costume while I was in elementary school so I wouldn't be given a hard time, and what kid doesn't like candy?  It just sort of fell away as I got older, and my friends and I were just getting old enough to, you know, appreciate the particular sort of effort girls were staying to put into their costumes, which got the talk about this being a different sort of temptation started.

Anyway, we weren't building Hell Houses or anything, but Halloween was always kind of four other people, and I was never really in a place to even think of dressing up before now, even though Jordan would always talk about how much fun it was and I should give it a try.

Big Stu's Halloween party, I soon gathered, was not one where folks generally did the minimum, and part of the days activities would be going out and finding a fun, sexy couple's costume.  Which, naturally, somehow manages to be sexier for the girl than the guy, although Calvin was actually pretty cool about that - if I was going to be a French maid, he was going to be the pool boy rather than the butler.  Maybe he wouldn't have before, but all our gym dates have given him some pretty good abs, so he could rock the crop-top without it being a total joke.

I was a bit alarmed when I saw what the pair cost - that is not a lot of fabric per dollar - but Calvin paid, although I was on my own when we stopped to the discount shoe store on account of me not having a pair of black four-inch heels to complete the costume.  Apparently it's something a girl really shouldn't be without, but I never replaced the pair I inherited from Krystle after I dripped something heavy on the box they were in.  Maybe they were expensive, maybe not, but I hadn't paid for them and they looked scary, so I had no trouble throwing them away.

I didn't freak out about all the skin it showed as much as I expected I would over the next week - the bottom is long enough to cover my butt and a pair of pantyhose can make you feel much less naked.  I got good feedback when I sent a picture to Jordan, too - she said I should show my shoulders off a little more next summer, and though I initially groaned when she asked if I had an underwire bra that pushed my breasts up more, I had to admit it seemed to be what the costume was made for.

I got a bit of a self-confidence boost when I changed on Saturday night and made my way into the living room; Moira pronounced "Mommy pretty", followed by Momma Kamen saying "Mommy's something", then saying that if she didn't know better, she'd think I was back at "my" old job.  I stick out my tongue and said it wasn't like Calvin was the only one showing off, because he looked pretty hot in his own costume.

Since we live at opposite ends of the T, we decided to meet in the middle, but I started feeling like an idiot about halfway through the walk to my station.  It's only couple blocks, but it's uphill, and even though I've seen women carrying shoes by their heels while eating flats that don't match the rest of their outfits all the time while living in the city, I never picked it up as something I should do.  I wasn't going to be that kind of girl, after all, not really thinking that she might be on her way to or from a date with one guy she really likes.  Our even a job interview.

We met at Park Street, trying to figure out the right route because the Orange Line was shut down.  I smirked a bit at his bare legs and flip-flops sticking out from under his coat.  "Looking sexy."

"So are you, for real.  I didn't expect you to get your hair done."

"I apparently own a wig."  I pulled it back to show him the natural do scrunched up underneath the straight hair.  "Nothing else I did worked with the costume, and I ain't getting no perm for no party."

"Fair enough!"

Anyway, it's a party.  Calvin's game night friends are there, as well as a bunch of friends-of-friends.  I've probably met most of them over the course of the past year, although they seem to remember me better than I remember them individually, but to be fair, I kind of stick out in a crowd of white guys who went to college to study how to make money as a subject all on its own. Calvin knows how I look in the middle of this, keeping guys from slapping my butt when we bobbed for apples despite the fact that the whole point was probably scoping out our butts and boobs as we leaned over, although I didn't really think of that until I felt my breasts feeling like they'd slide out of my bra if it given just a little encouragement.  A couple of times I went from feeling kind of glad to have a hand at my back as I tried to chat while standing in four-inch heels after a few drinks only to not entirely be sure what to do as it started moving lower.

Anyway, as much as I don't think I'll ever love Halloween as much as Jordan, I kind of get why she likes it so much.  You spend so much time trying to be just the right amount of whatever - sexy, nerdy, a fan of something, professional - that it's really fun to dress up and say this is part of who you are.  I didn't exactly come by this sort of sexiness honestly, but it's part of me now, and I think Calvin liked playing at being super laid-back as the pool boy.  I mentioned it to him as we got on the train, and he said he knew that the pool boy always stopped by the servants' quarters after his work was done, to which I replied that it was awful close to the nursery, but maybe there was a boathouse where he hung out...

Obviously we got each other out of our costumes at his place with all the role-playing.  That thought vanished from my head the next morning, though, as I woke up and started calculating time to get back to Momma Kamen's, shower, deal with the hair that had become a real mess under the wig, get Moira ready, and head to church.  I'm guessing there aren't a lot of churchgoers at Big Stu's parties, because my schedule would be really tight.

I kissed him as I ran out the door, texting a picture of myself on the subway with my hair a mess and my heels in my hand, saying there ain't no walk of shame like a Halloween walk of shame, smiling a bit when he said I had nothing to be ashamed of.  Not sure Momma Kamen thought the same thing, or anybody in the church where we usually arrive a bit earlier.

Suffice it to say, I did not go with the push-up bra and heels when I took my daughter trick-or-treating last night (a day early, but I both had to work tonight and a lot of people were putting to beat the rain); I wouldn't have gone with the costume at all but Moira's Godzilla costume is now her favorite pajamas, and she said "Mommy too!" a lot.  I will wear them at work tonight to win a bet with Moira's namesake, although it better not give her or Ashlyn any long-term ideas.

And then it goes into the closet for who knows how long, because when else am I going to use it?  Halloween may not entirely be the work of Satan, but I'm not sure it's appropriate to donate something like that to Goodwill or another charity collecting clothes for the needy.

-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: Ready to pop

Missy went to Australia for New Year's before coming back to Boston, and when I said that was a lot of flying, even in first class, she agreed, saying that by the time you're almost home, you aren't sad about vacation being over any more, you just want this flight to be done.  I can relate, and I was never particularly excited about being a woman, let alone pregnant!

The word thing is, there are bits of things I miss.  Don't get me wrong, it was hard as heck to go to work and be on my feet for most of the night, but I was kind of independent, managing things, and that felt good.  Since coming up here, though, my "job" has been having a safe, healthy pregnancy, and as much as it's tough to actively do a whole lot else now that I've blown up to the size of a small car, I'm kind of bored.

I thought that maybe I could help Krystle out with "being me", but the fact that someone else was in my life for a year before Krystle and so many of my friends went to the Inn and don't expect her to act like me means it's not so urgent.  And, in other stuff, I'm behind.  Like, I was never really that great at math, but the guy before Krystle was, so he signed up for some higher-level courses, and it turns out that Krystle has surprised herself with how good she is.  She'd always treated knowing how much had been shoved into her panties within a few dollars by the end of the night, no matter how wasted she was, as just a weird little trick, but it turns out she's good with numbers generally.  It's kind of made studying for the SATs and applying to colleges weird - she does well on math, writing not so much, so while I'm thinking that after graduation, I always wanted to study religion and follow in Grandpa's footsteps, she knows she's going to do better on other parts of the tests and interviews.  I'm writing the application essays, but she's going to be doing the interviews, and neither of us can really talk much about the biggest experiences in our lives.

So, I just kind of sit around being pregnant.  Not so much sitting around - I try to get some chores done and run the occasional errand, but that's become a little harder as I'm waddling and there's snow on the ground.  I kind of also think that my parents don't necessarily want me leaving the house too much.  They haven't told the neighbors that "Jonah" knocked me up, instead coming up with a cover story that I'm some sort of poor cousin from the city whom they have graciously agreed to take in during this difficult time, but people whisper.  They haven't hit on the truth, or as much of the truth as the Inn's magic will let them believe, but there's been a lot of talk about Dad.  It makes me sick to consider, and while he says he doesn't mind taking the hit to his reputation if it lets me have a future, I hate the idea.

Mom really hates it.  I only really see how it affects her at church, where other people will stare at her and me, sometimes nodding to each other (no matter who in the family I sit next to, people seem to think it means something), and I've heard some variation of a conversation with Mom saying Christian charity is more important than how people talk a dozen times.  Only two sermons about the evils of sex out of wedlock and how bad it is for a child to not have both a mother and a father.  I can't say I liked being used as a bad example; it makes me both want to shout about how people don't know the whole story and remember to lean more heavily on forgiveness and helping out if I ever earn my way behind a pulpit.

My friends have mostly been great.  I talk with Moira, Missy, and Benjamin on-line all the time, and Missy in particular likes sending me baby toys - she'll see something and just drop it in the mail, even if she's in Hong Kong or Australia.  My friends from school who also went to the Inn kind of split along gender lines - I freak the guys out, especially the ones that turned into girls themselves, I guess because they know that this could have happened to them, and their white male brains don't want to face it.  The girls are mostly cool, though - they're really polite about asking if they can touch my belly, a lot more so than other people, maybe because they know what is like to have other people acting like they've got a claim on your body.  I also think that most of them wound up in relatively good situations, and hanging out with me gives them more of a connection to something they remember fondly that they're afraid will fade as we go to college and just have regular lives.  And sometimes they're just curious about what the future has in store when they start families.  I don't know how many will follow up in terms of promised babysitting, but we'll see.

And then there's Krystle.

It was really weird between us at first.  She was still mad at me for he not being able to get back to her life for an extra year and how she'll have a lot to explain when she does, but the fact that I am living her life and maybe something else where the baby's concerned gives her some sort of maternal/paternal instinct to protect us.  Even if she would really rather I'd used a condom, she's the one that tells me that sometimes a woman with not much else but a good body will have to use it as a resource, and while people will try and make you feel bad, it's mostly just hypocritical B.S.  Nobody, she says, ever told the bouncers outside the strip club that they shouldn't exploit the fact that they're six and a half feet of solid muscle.

I also seem to be the only person she can relax around. Dad calls it "code-switching" when she starts talking black, for lack of a better description, although technically the actual switching had been talking like the mostly-white people around her ever since first becoming someone else a year and a half ago, and you can see that he and Mom don't really approve of the bad grammar, pronunciation, and seeming to put random words in bold.  I didn't really like it at first either - I mostly grew up around white people and my folks said I'd never get anywhere if I sounded ignorant - but I got used to hearing it living Krystle's life (Momma Kamen may talk like that a bit, but I'd never think of her as dumb), so I don't look down on her when she breaks it out (I hope).  I guess I'm the one she can be herself with, even if it's just swearing a bunch when we play Xbox, since even the other folks who know about the Inn aren't really cool with her being that way.

Plus, I guess she's gotten to the point where she likes being me for a while.  She enjoys being on the basketball team, and though she's hated the part of school that's taking standardized tests, I've seen her looking at community college courses for when we switch back, because knowing you can do something is a big deal, and I guess she never knew she could do more than turn a guy's head before.  She also says high school is a lot more fun when you know just which parts don't matter.  It's also apparently a lot of fun when a girl who also went to the Inn whispers that "Jonah" really knows what a girl likes.

Despite that, like I said, she's making plans for afterward, which is a relief.  As much as I know I'm not going to feel like a whale anymore any day now, I still can't wait to be myself again.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Holidays and After

Lane talked about the difficulty of finding a good dress to wear to church for Christmas services, and I can sympathize - Krystle seemed to also mainly buy dresses of the tight and low-cut variety, and truth be told even the ones that don't really seem designed that way sure seem to wind up like that thanks to her proportions. The others tell me that I'm over-thinking this, and that it's just me thinking my chest should be flat. I guess that could be the case, but I feel guilty all the time, like just standing there is an invitation.

I did find something fairly modest to wear to Christmas Mass, although there were moments when I wondered if I really was overly worried, because a lot of the women there were wearing kind of showy dresses. I kind of always thought that was just something that happened on TV and in the movies, although my grandfather once mentioned that it was kind of a thing at the church in his hometown - that because it was the community's main gathering place, men and women were always trying to get each other's attention there without exactly undermining the fact that it was a place of worship.

I was reminded of that when Pastor William came up to me after the service and said it had been too long since they'd seen "me" there, and asked if I would be attending services regularly. I must admit, I was ashamed of how easily that seemed to fall by the wayside after visiting the Inn. I don't know whether it was because I always went to church with my family and just got lazy being on my own (or with Krystle's family, who are not regular church-goers) or if I felt forsaken afterwards. I know this man was asking about Krystle, who had been stripping and living with some man who was not her husband and maybe doing drugs, but it was a reminder of how nobody is beyond saving, no matter what circumstances bring you to a low place.

I said I probably would, and it felt good. I have been going beat every Sunday and enjoying it, especially since this was the first time I really remember going to a church whose congregation was primarily African-American on a regular basis - I've been to my other grandfather's church every once in a while when we visit, and when I was a really little kid, but it has been something different from the mostly-white places where I've lived most of my life. It's a little strange to have spent all your life as "the black kid" in school and have to kind of get used to not being the only black person around.

My going to Mass had the family a little surprised. Karla's kids had questions about it, and she injected a lot of suspicion into her answers. I guess I can't really blame her - I probably don't act much like the Krystle she knows - but it's frustrating. Who needs to explain going to church on Christmas?

It had the kids impatient about opening presents, but they knew that they were going to have to wait for Momma Kamen anyway. Krystle's mother works for the MBTA, and she takes a lot of weekend and holiday shifts so that her schedule doesn't duplicate Karla's and so that she can get overtime pay. It helped make Christmas a little less meager for the kids, as did my being able to get an employee discount at the toy store. There was no "big present" like I got used to, and I felt bad about that. I may have wound up having too much the same relationship with Karla as her real sister, but her kids are great and deserve more than they have.

Speaking of Christmas, I had the hardest time figuring out what to get Karla and her mother.  Well, Karla; I got Momma Kamen a nice set of gloves that you can use a phone while wearing, since she's outside a lot and texts back and forth with Karla, me, and a lot of other people, so it seemed pretty practical. It didn't seem entirely like a surprise that Krystle would get her something like that, so I guess I did okay.

I had a little more trouble with Karla, and not just because everything seemed like it would be taken as a challenge, and it seemed like every person I might ask wouldn't really know - my friends are all men who used to be women, women who used to be men, folks too young to have perspective on what a single mother values, or just more well-off than us, not really getting how much is out of reach. I wound up kind of giving up and getting her a gift card from Sears.

She got me something lacy from Victoria's Secret, and I still haven't even tried it on to see if it fits in case the real Krystle still wants to wear stuff like this when she gets her body back. I feel guilty just feeling the fabric on my fingertips.

Of course, Christmas coming and going meant that the temporary toy store where I was working closed down, and while the manager gave me a good reference, I probably should have been looking ahead to the next job even while this one was winding down.

I didn't quite go unemployed for the past couple of weeks - Yuan-wei/Missy/Jordan gave me way too much to come by her place every few days while she was in Hong Kong for Christmas break and make sure that the mail got brought in and that her plants were watered (no, she doesn't really strike me as someone who would have plants either, but I didn't ask what the story was). I've tidied up a bit and shivered at the thought of taking a job as a maid before thinking that the only people who would hire someone with Krystle's history for that would probably just want to see her in (and out of) a uniform.

I don't really get Yuan-wei. I've only met her a few times and she's been a real jerk about my believing in God, she's totally shameless about being with men, even though you can tell from just being around her that she's still one at heart. She will talk about how much she misses her family after just a couple of drinks - either she or Benjamin really shouldn't be drinking when he brings a six-pack over, right? - but she basically gave that family away.

And she also remembered my real birthday, December 28th, making sure that when I arrived at her place that day, there was a package waiting for me, with a pair of Nike Air LeBron XIII basketball shoes, with a promise for another pair when I "outgrew" them this summer. I put them on right away and they're fantastic; I wanted to go out and find a game despite it being really cold and not wanting to imagine what sort of attention I'd get without an industrial-strength sports bra (just running for the bus without one is no fun at all).

Still, they're great and I'm so grateful, even if Karla's reaction on seeing them was to wonder who I'd slept with for them and to ask since when I cared about basketball. That just makes me appreciate them more, though - they reflect me, not her, and they mean that someone understands I'm a now-17-year-old guy rather than a 23-year-old woman, and I really can't wait until I am again.

-Jonah