“I’m gonna be sick,” James grumbled, “This is all your fault, Abby.”
“My fault?” Abby flailed, “As if I would actually want to be Dad? It was just a joke. Since when are magic amulets a real thing?”
James sat silently in the garden of their childhood home. That “joke” had landed him and his sister into the bodies of their parents, back when he and his sister were preteens.
“How long is this supposed to last?”
“Two months. Apparently.”
“Oh my God,” James gaped, “I have to pretend to be Mom for two whole months.”
He turned his gaze precariously to his mother’s cleavage, an unsettling panorama. It loomed large and disconcerting, something he never wanted to think about, let alone inhabit. In fact, it was more than unsettling—it was downright mortifying.
Crossing his arms across his chest to avoid the view, he felt the pressure of his new female anatomy. As if the entire situation wasn't bad enough, now he felt the constriction of his mom’s bra, a tight and constant presence he couldn’t ignore. Every movement of his newly feminine shoulders made the straps dig further into his flesh, the foreign sensation compounding his discomfort.
He groaned aloud, wishing he could fast-forward past these incredibly awkward months. He attempted to sit as still as a statue, stiffening against every reminder of his maternal transformation, yet unable to escape the reality he found himself trapped in.
“Oh my gosh. I just realized,” Abby held up their father’s wedding band and stared at it, mouth agape, “I’m married to you.”
James's face twisted in horror, “Ew! Gross, Abby. That’s the worst thing!”
There was a heavy silence as they both contemplated the strangeness of their new situation.
Abby finally broke the quiet with a sigh, resigned but defiant, “Well, we have no choice. We have to make the best of this.”
“Easy for you to say,” James groused, pulling at his blouse like it was made of nettles.
Abby laughed at him, then looked thoughtful, “It’s kind of cool though, isn’t it? I mean, I’ve always wondered what it would be like.”
James shook his head, grumbling, “I’d rather wonder.”
“C’mon,” Abby coaxed, “Think about it! We can do whatever we want.”
James’s face softened slightly as he considered that prospect.
“And,” Abby continued triumphantly, “we don’t even have to go to school! We’re Mom and Dad. It’s summer break.”
As much as he tried to resist, James found himself liking what Abby was saying. He leaned back, stretching his legs out and feeling how light and thin they were now.
“You know what? You might be right,” he grunted, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips.
—
“Mom, Dad! What’s for dinner?”
James and Abby shot up from their seats, nearly colliding with each other as they turned to face the source of the voice. Standing at the back door were …Abby and Josh.
"Um," James stammered, his voice coming out in his mother's higher pitch, "Dinner. Right."
Abby cleared her throat, adopting their father's authoritative tone.
"We were just discussing that, weren't we, honey?" She threw James a desperate glance.
James nodded vigorously, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his mother's hair bobbing against his shoulders.
"Pizza? We could order pizza," He tried to remember how his mother would say it.
Young-James’ face lit up, "Really? On a Tuesday?"
Abby jumped in, "Why not? Your mother and I... decided we all deserve a treat."
Then, to James’ surprise, Abby slipped her hand around his waist. James immediately stiffened at the touch, eyes widening in horror. This was his sister pretending to be their dad, putting an arm around him while he was in their mom's body. The whole situation was becoming more surreal by the second.
"We can, uh, call Dominos soon, kids. But, uh, go ahead and play some more in the meantime,” James stuttered.
Young-Abby squinted at them suspiciously, "Why are you two acting so weird?"
James felt sweat beading on his forehead, "Weird? We're not acting weird. Right, honey?"
He cringed at the endearment, shooting a pleading look at his sister.
Abby leaned in and planted a quick kiss on the lips. It was brief, but James recoiled as if struck by lightning, feeling his face flush volcanic red. Abby seemed to stifle a laugh, then turned her attention back to their younger selves.
Young-Abby shrugged and turned away, calling over her shoulder, "Okay. But I want pepperoni!"
They watched as their younger selves trampled off. James collapsed back into his seat.
“That was close!” Abby laughed, sitting down beside him.
James shot her a petulant glare, “You didn’t have to kiss me.”
Abby caught her breath between giggles, “I had to make it convincing, didn’t I?”
James grumbled, hiding his face in his hands, but there was something about his sister’s unshakeable playfulness that made the whole ordeal seem slightly less terrible.
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