James woke first, disoriented and tangled in the sheets. He glanced over and saw Abby still asleep, her mouth slightly open. He blinked, trying to process the memory of last night, how unthinkable and yet thrilling it had been.
He got up quietly and pulled on the robe hanging from the door. The familiar scent of his parents filled the room, and he felt his mind twist at how weirdly he’d come to inhabit it.
Downstairs, the kitchen felt like a relic of their childhood: the same floral curtains, the same dented toaster. He ran his fingers along the countertop, remembering how they used to sneak cookies before dinner. Now he was the one making breakfast.
He fumbled with the coffee machine, accidentally spilling grounds across the counter. Cleaning up the mess, he thought about what it meant to be Monica, to be his own mother, to have this freedom, this secret.
“What’s for breakfast, Mom?”
James whipped around, startled, to see his younger, preteen self at the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, uh, sweetie,” James said, trying to sound natural, “I was just making coffee.”
“Can I have cereal?” young-James asked, already heading for the pantry.
“Sure,” James replied, relieved at the easy request.
Abby appeared in the doorway, bleary-eyed and back in the role of Paul. James met her gaze, and they both shared a conspiratorial smile. His heart thudded at the intimacy of the moment, the way they were each other's secret.
“Morning, sport!” Abby said, ruffling young-James’s hair as she got a mug from the cupboard.
Young-James crunched loudly on his cereal. James watched him, marveling at the distance between himself and this boy who he used to be.
James turned to Abby, feeling the weight of their secret pressing against the ordinariness of breakfast. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.
“What are we doing today?” young-Abby bounded into the kitchen, still in her pajamas, “It’s summer break! Can we go to the arcade?”
James and Abby exchanged a quick look. They hadn’t planned that far ahead.
“The arcade?” young-James perked up, his eyes widening with hope.
James hesitated, unsure how much freedom their parents’ bodies really gave them.
Abby jumped in, “If you two can get ready in ten minutes, we’ll take you.”
“Awesome!” young-James shouted, abandoning his cereal and bolting from the room.
Young-Abby was right behind him, her excitement echoing down the hall.
James looked at Abby, a mixture of excitement and apprehension flickering in his eyes, “Do you think we can pull this off?”
Abby grinned as she pulled him in for a deep kiss, “I have no doubt, honey.”
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