A TURN OF THE MOON
by
Jessica Drew

Day Sixteen
The Vagina Lady

As I pulled the convertible into a parking space near Doctor Hartwell’s clinic, I began to wonder if I should have asked Lauren along after all. Somehow the overpass seemed taller, the shadows longer, and the alleyways between the buildings darker.

There was no sign of life and the other vehicles that were parked up made me think they’d been abandoned after some sort of apocalypse.

The engine fell silent and I sat there for a moment with my hands resting on the steering wheel. I pressed the button to lock the car doors while I worked up the courage to step out. Grabbing my tan purse from the passenger seat, I unfastened the flap and reached in for my compact mirror. Opening it, I checked my appearance quickly. I’d used a little mascara and some more of my tinted balm, figuring I didn’t need much more for this morning. Reaching in for my perfume bottle, I gave two short sprays either side of my neck. I closed my eyes and breathed in, allowing myself to enjoy the scent for a moment. Finally, I unlocked the doors.

I stepped out of the car and tugged on the hem of my pale blue top. I reached back into the car for my bag and slipped the shoulder strap over my head.

Walking over to the sidewalk, I folded my arms across my body. Not for warmth. It was warm enough, and I half wondered whether I should have worn a skirt today rather than tight leggings. It just felt comforting. What definitely didn’t feel comfortable was the thong that I was wearing. I checked around quickly, then picked at the underwear through the fabric of my leggings. It had seemed almost invasively intimate as I’d pulled it on that morning, feeling it settle between my buttocks. Now every step I took reminded me of its presence. The upside was that my underwear was now practically invisible through the stretched fabric of my leggings, but I wondered if it had been worth it. I’d just exchanged one kind of discomfort for another.

I nearly walked straight past the clinic. It was only when I noticed Hartwell’s silver estate, parked up in the alleyway running alongside, that I backtracked a few steps. From the outside, the clinic had transformed. The whitewash was gone and the windows were clear, with cream vertical blinds giving some privacy. Freshly painted gold lettering glinted in the sun.

The Hartwell Clinic.

It felt like a welcoming oasis amongst the rundown surroundings. I let my arms unfold and pushed at the door.

* * * * *

The waiting area gleamed beneath the bright lights and my eyes took a moment to adjust. There was a faint lingering smell of disinfectant.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hartwell Clinic,” a young woman said from behind the reception desk. She smiled at me as I hesitated in the doorway. The other day, we’d had the luxury of being alone with Hartwell. Now, she had staff.

“Uh, hello,” I said, stepping through and closing the door behind me. Other than the receptionist, the waiting room was empty, though the door leading off to Hartwell’s consultation room was closed. I stepped up to the counter, my fingers resting on the edge. “I’m here to see Doctor Hartwell.”

“Of course, can I take your name please?” she said, smiling up at me from her seat.

“Yes, it’s Susie… Susie Carter.”

The woman frowned for a moment and checked her computer screen. “I don’t have a Susie Carter down… I have a Scott Carter?”

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, a little too quickly. I was starting to lose track of exactly who was using which name for me, who I was supposed to tell, and who I wasn’t.

“Ah.” The woman hesitated for a moment, as if she were choosing her words carefully. “Would you, um... would you like me to update your records?” she asked quietly.

“Uh…” I looked at her. “No, not for the moment… I mean, no… thank you.”

“Okay, well just take a seat, Doctor Hartwell is just finishing up with another patient.”

“Thanks.” I nodded and turned away from the counter, tapping the edge. I sat over by the window, feeling the stretch of my leggings and my thong riding further up than I would have liked.

I held my tan purse in my lap, with my legs together, my eyes roaming the room. I noticed the old dead plant on the receptionist’s desk had been replaced by a newly potted flower that had yet to bloom.

“So, uh… how long have you worked with Doctor Hartwell?” I asked, feeling a desire to fill the silence.

“A few years on and off,” she said, folding her arms and leaning forward against the counter. “But she’s only just reopened the practice. This place was on hold while she was doing work for that big company down in the valley.”

“Axis…” I said, looking down at my feet and my borrowed white sneakers.

“Oh, you know it?” she asked, seeming surprised. She tucked a pen back behind her ear. Her hair was dark and cut short at the back and sides, but a little longer on top. It was almost boyish, though until now I hadn’t even thought about cutting my own hair into a style I might have preferred. In fact, I wasn’t even sure why I’d ended up with longer hair at all…

“Well, anyway, between you and me I’m glad she’s doing this again,” the woman whispered, as if she shouldn’t really be telling me this. “Those big pharmas, it’s all about the profit. They never have anyone’s best interests at heart, do they?”

“But Doctor Hartwell’s not like that?” I asked, watching her carefully.

She was about to answer when the door to Hartwell’s consultation room opened and a young woman and a man walked out. The woman stared straight ahead, her eyes glistening. The man looked to be her partner and had his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently.

"If you need anything else. Any advice on next steps, please do get in touch," Hartwell said as she followed behind them. She wore loose navy pants and a cream button-up blouse, with the same comfortable cardigan she'd worn the other day.

The woman's lip quivered and she didn't look like she was going to be able to respond. The man turned back to Hartwell, speaking in a low voice. "We appreciate everything you've done for us."

"I just wish I could do more," Hartwell said, with a hint of a tremor in her voice.

The couple filed slowly towards the exit. The man opened the door holding it open for his partner, but she paused in front of me and touched my arm. "Good luck," she said sincerely. They stepped out onto the street, the door slowly closing after them.

I looked across at Hartwell. She took a deep breath, as if resetting herself, before turning her attention toward me.

“Hello,” she said, tapping her hands on her hips. “Would you like to come through?”

I nodded and rose to my feet, feeling unexpectedly tall in front of her. I smiled politely at the receptionist and followed Hartwell through into the consultation room. I paused for a moment, my eyes drifting across to the examination bed over on the far side of the room. I felt a tightness in the pit of my stomach, recalling the uncomfortable procedures from the other day, and how vulnerable I had felt. The door clicked shut behind us.

“Scott,” she said finally. “Thank you for coming in to see me. Please take a seat.” Hartwell gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. I sat down, while she walked around and took her place in the leather chair opposite.

“Were they… okay?” I asked, gesturing back over my shoulder.

Hartwell slipped her black-rimmed glasses off and rubbed at her temples. “No,” she said in her usual measured cadence. Her gaze drifted to the plastic womb-and-baby model she kept on her desk. “I can’t help them anymore.”

“Oh… I see,” I said quietly.

“They’ll be okay,” Hartwell said, though it sounded as if she was trying to reassure herself more than anything. “They’ll find their family. Adoption… surrogacy. And they’ll love that child just as fiercely. But today… they’re grieving.”

I nodded, remembering what Hartwell had told us of her research at Axis Labs. Of her dream of restoring reproductive function in women. A dream that had had unforeseen consequences. Me.

“Forgive me, I’ve been very unprofessional,” Hartwell said. “Please treat that as strictly confidential. With us both being scientists, I rather forgot myself.” She slipped her glasses back on, wrinkling her nose to keep them from slipping.

“Well, uh… I wouldn’t exactly call myself a scientist,” I said, picking a loose strand of my blonde hair from my black leggings.

“Before I left Axis, I pulled your file,” Hartwell said, steepling her fingers. “You’re an intelligent man, Scott. You were wasted in logistics.”

I took a breath. “Look, Doctor Hartwell, I don’t think you asked me here to give me careers advice,” I said, glancing back up at her.

“As I said, an intelligent man,” she said, holding up a hand, “and please, call me Philippa.”

“Philippa,” I repeated, though it felt a little strange to say it. “Is there any news? Any progress?”

Hartwell leaned back in her chair, pulling her cardigan around her. “I’ve conducted an initial analysis of your blood samples and begun cultivating cell cultures.”

“And?” I could feel my heart beating faster.

“And everything is consistent with what I would expect to see from a healthy young woman.”

I sighed and gripped the arms of my chair. “I think I could have told you that myself…” I looked down — suddenly aware of the curve of my breasts beneath my top, and the splay of my hips in my leggings.

“What I mean is, there’s no sign of cell degradation or instability. No unusual immune response or inflammation. No sign that your organs are under stress. Hormone levels are all consistent with a woman of your age.”

“Alright, I get it. We knew this. Female on the outside. Female on the inside.” I could feel my frustration growing.

“It’s more than that,” Hartwell said, leaning forward a little in her chair. “Your body isn’t behaving as though it has been altered at all. It’s behaving as though this has always been its natural state.”

“But, uh…” I stammered, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Th-there must be some sign. Some marker, or residue.”

“Therein is the problem, Scott,” Hartwell said, adjusting her glasses. “Without any baseline measurements from before, I cannot categorically say for certain what has changed, and to what extent.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, quieter now.

“Endocrine function, blood analysis, genetic profiling, neurological scans — before and after… Without those comparisons there are questions I simply cannot answer.” Hartwell swivelled in her chair and got up, walking over to the basin built into the counter along one wall. She grabbed a small kettle from the side and began to fill it. “Tea?” she asked, flicking it on, then searching in the cupboard beneath for a couple of mugs.

“Uh, coffee please,” I said, looking over.

“I asked you here alone, because I thought you might have some insight.” Hartwell turned around, placing her hands in the deep pockets of her cardigan. “Have you noticed anything?”

“Like what? Physically?” I asked, toying with my fingers.

Hartwell shrugged. “We can start there. Tell me, when you look in the mirror. Can you still see yourself? Do you still resemble your male self? Like perhaps you could be a sister, or a cousin?”

“I mean, Lauren sometimes says she can still see the old me… like when I smile and—“

“What do you think, Scott?”

I looked down at my hands, picking at a jagged edge to one of my fingernails. “No. I don’t see a resemblance.”

“Anything else?”

I stared off toward the window for a moment, but the blinds were drawn and offered no respite. “Oh, my hair!” I said, reaching up and tugging at my ponytail.

“Yes?” Hartwell asked.

“Well, it’s longer. And that doesn’t have anything to do with my biological sex, does it?”

“Possible explanation?”

“Err… maybe… some kind of metabolic overactivity during the transformation?”

Hartwell raised a finger. “See? You’re thinking like a scientist.” She turned back to the counter, putting a spoonful of instant coffee into each cup. Steam began to rise from the spout of the kettle. “Any changes to emotional state, thought patterns, or preferences?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Well... I stopped having my usual breakfast and started eating yogurt,” I said, shrugging.

Hartwell turned back to look at me, her expression unmoving. “That isn’t quite what I meant. But, still… that is interesting.” The kettle began to rattle now, the water bubbling within.

“Any changes to how those closest to you treat you, or perceive you?” Hartwell added.

I sighed. Where to start... Henry? No.

“Well, my friend Emma has taken it upon herself to start calling me Susie,” I said. I reached for my necklace, feeling the outline of my wedding ring with my fingers. “And, uh… Lauren did call me ‘she’ the other day.”

Suddenly the kettle clicked off as it came to the boil. For a moment Hartwell said nothing. She poured the water into each cup and stirred with a spoon. She turned and handed me one.

“Do you realise she did the same thing when you were here the other day?” Hartwell said.

“She… did?” I cradled the steaming cup in my hands.

Hartwell nodded. “And how does that make you feel?” she asked, blowing at her coffee.

“Well, uh... I guess it’s understandable. I mean, look at me... she’s going to slip up, right?”

“It’s... understandable?” Hartwell walked around her desk, sitting back down in her worn leather chair. It creaked under her as she set her coffee mug on the desk between us. “Scott... what do you need?”

I sipped at my drink, wincing a little at the burned, bitter aftertaste of the instant coffee. “What do I need?” I repeated Hartwell’s words. She remained silent, giving me space. I’d had counselling before. I knew what she was doing.

“I need the cure,” I said, trying to look her in the eye, though the reflection of the overhead lighting in her glasses made it difficult.

“Cures are for afflictions. So, a cure for what?” she asked.

A case of the ‘females’, I thought to myself, remembering the joke Lauren and I had shared about it.

“I... just want to be a man again,” I said at last.

“Ah, now that’s something different,” Hartwell said. “What I’ve been doing here. The samples, the tests. It’s a long shot. If you want to be a man again, there are other avenues we can pursue.”

“What do you mean?”

“If your priority is to live as a man again, I can recommend you for female-to-male gender-affirming treatment,” she said, “I know of an excellent doctor in the city who—"

“No,” I said, a little too quickly. I cleared my throat. “It’s more than that... It’s more than the body and how I look. I want to be me again.”

Hartwell looked at me, nodding her head slowly. “Alright... now we’re getting somewhere. That’s what I needed to hear from you. If we’re going to attempt this.”

I looked down, gripping my coffee mug as I took a deep breath. Suddenly I felt exhausted.

“I could use some help. Someone with a keen mind who knows their way around a lab,” Hartwell leaned forward, trying to catch my eye again.

She’d asked me the other day, but I hadn’t taken it seriously. I studied the lines in her face, searching for whatever I could. I was starting to learn that she meant the things she said.

“Alright... on one condition,” I said.

“What is it?”

“You’re going to need get some better coffee!” I smiled, pushing my mug away from me across the desk.

* * * * *

As I drove back home, I began to have second thoughts about what I’d agreed to. Lauren still didn’t seem to trust Hartwell, and I’d probably get a lecture about it when I told her.

Pulling into the driveway, I eased the convertible down the slope toward the lakehouse. The tyres squeaked as I brought the car to a halt alongside the dormant SUV. I got out and locked the car with the remote, the orange indicator lights flashing in the dark of the garage. I slipped between the cars, making my way to the rear, where the side door led into the house.

“Laur-en?” I called out in a sing-song voice as I set my purse down on the breakfast bar. There was no answer, but I noticed the porch door was open.

I walked over, absently picking at my thong again through the fabric of my leggings. Maybe I’d get used to it — but was it really too much to ask to be both comfortable and presentable? The sun beat down on me as I stepped out onto the rear porch. I raised my hand to shield my eyes, letting them adjust for a moment. There was a gentle sloshing of water coming from the lake.

“Hey, honey!” Lauren said as she swam toward me. She had her hair clipped up, sweeping her arms out in front of her as she breaststroked toward the porch.

“Hey,” I said, crouching at the edge. Lauren steadied herself against the wooden decking with a hand, looking up at me.

“How did it go?” she asked, wiping a wet hand across her face.

“It was fine,” I said, gazing over at the trees on the western shoreline. “I think she was kind of checking I still wanted to change back,”

“Oh, well what did you say?” she asked, bobbing in the water, the blue colour of her swimsuit broken and rippling beneath the surface.

“What do you think I said?” I smiled down at her.

Lauren’s own smile seemed a bit more unsteady.

“I said yes, of course!” I shook my head. “But only because I’m sick of picking this stupid thong out of my butt.”

“Oh, that’s the only reason?”

We giggled together.

“Hey, why don’t you join me?” Lauren said, pushing herself from the porch and floating away from me.

I straightened again. “I, uh… I don’t have anything I can wear,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lauren said. “Just swim in your underwear.”

“I… I don’t know,” I said, instinctively looking to the house on the other side of the lake.

“Don’t worry, Chip and Dale aren’t there today,” Lauren said, grinning at me from the water.

I thought about it for a moment. “Fine…” I said as I sat on one of the wooden seats and untied the laces of my sneakers. I slipped them from my feet, along with the ankle socks I had borrowed from Lauren, setting them neatly beside me. I crossed my arms, gripping the hem of my pale-blue top. I hesitated, letting my gaze sweep across the whole of the lake, from left to right. Finally, I pulled the top up and off my body. I took a moment to straighten the straps of my nude bra, and glanced over at Lauren. She seemed to be watching me out of the corner of her eye while she swam.

I stood back up and hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my leggings. I shimmied them down over the curve of my hips and butt, then worked my thighs a little to get them down as far as my knees. I was able to bend at the waist and easily push them the rest of the way to my ankles before stepping out of them. Those stretches I’d been doing were coming in useful after all!

I gave the waistband of my blush pink thong a self-conscious tug. My hands hovered in front of my body, suddenly desperate for the lake to swallow me up and hide me from view. I stepped forward and unceremoniously hopped off the end of the porch. The water rushed over me and I kicked my legs, breaking the surface as I coughed and spluttered from the water that had rushed up my nose.

“You okay?” Lauren asked, laughing a little as she swam up to me.

“Oh fuck, it’s cold,” I coughed, sweeping my arms out as I kicked my legs.

“That wasn’t the most graceful entrance!” Lauren smiled as she treaded water next to me. “Now your hair’s all wet,” she said. “You’ll have to wash it again before we go out. You should have—“

I swept my arm across the surface of the water, creating a wave that swept straight over Lauren, soaking her.

“Oh!” she yelped, looking at me with her mouth open in shock. “Oh, you b—“ She stopped herself, then splashed water back at me.

“Ahh!” I turned away, but not in time, receiving a faceful. “Right, that’s it I’m gonna get you!”

“No!” Lauren laughed, trying to swim away as I grabbed her around the waist. She wriggled against me, making choppy waves in the water. She broke free and began to breaststroke away from me. I swept my arms and kicked my legs, swimming after her. “Ah! Don’t chase me! You know I don’t like being chased!”

Luckily for Lauren she was a much better swimmer and easily outpaced me. I trod water, catching my breath for a moment. Lauren smiled back at me. My body felt light and buoyant and it seemed to take very little effort to swim in place. I turned onto my back, letting myself float as I closed my eyes against the brightness of the sun.

I drifted, letting myself just breathe as I listened to the trickling, tinkling water gently sloshing against the porch posts. It felt like I was floating, and gravity no longer seemed to have any bearing on me. I was neither female nor male. In fact, for a moment, it felt like I didn’t have a body at all.

“You look happy,” Lauren said as she swam up to me, her fingers finding mine in the water. I opened my eyes, my gaze dipping for a moment, seeing the curves of her body breaking the surface of the water.

“I was just thinking about our date tonight,” I said softly.

“Oh, so it is a date,” she said, smiling.

We began to swim out together in a wide arc. “So what time are you picking me up then?”

“Five p.m. sharp!” I said, sweeping my arms through the water.

“I better make sure I look my best!”

We swam back in toward the porch. Lauren pulled herself out first, the water draining from her body, her blue swimming costume clinging to the curve of her hips and backside. She reached back and helped me out. As I stepped up onto the porch, Lauren’s eyes swept down my body and she stifled a small giggle.

“What is it?” I asked, looking down. To my dismay, my soaked bra had pretty much turned transparent. Looking down further, my pink thong hadn’t fared any better.

“Oh, sorry…” I quickly covered my chest as I felt my nipples harden from the cold water.

“Don’t apologise.” Lauren grabbed the towel she’d brought out for herself. She stepped toward me and began to gently rub it against my shoulders. I held my arms out, and we locked eyes for a moment as she worked the towel down to my wrists and hands. “Turn around for me,” she said quietly. I turned, facing out toward the lake in all my soaked, see-through exposure. I could see the house across the lake, and for a moment my imagination ran away with me. What if they were there? What if they were inside, looking out at me through the windows? Lauren began to rub the towel across my back. My pulse quickened. She slid the towel lower, reaching the inner dip of my lower back, then out over the curve of my backside. She knelt, working the towel across each thigh in turn. I adjusted my stance, my legs a little wider apart, suddenly more conscious of my chest rising and falling. After drying my calves, Lauren rose to her feet again.

I felt a sudden sharp slap to my backside.

“Oh!” A high-pitched gasp escaped my lips.

“Sorry, but you can’t parade around in front of me in a little pink thong and not expect that!” Lauren said, giggling. I turned back around and she handed me the towel. “Here, you can do the rest yourself.” I brought the towel to my chest.

* * * * *

I came back from my shower, dressed in a short white robe, rubbing a hand towel over my hair. Lauren smiled at me from the reflection of the vanity mirror as she finished drying and brushing out her hair. I sat down on the edge of the bed, nudging my shopping bags from the other day to one side with my foot.

“When are you going to put your new stuff away?” Lauren asked, turning off the hairdryer as she looked back at me. “I nearly tripped over it all just now!”

“Well, there’s not really any room,” I said, gazing over at the dresser. “My drawers are getting pretty packed now.” I reached up, bringing a few strands of my blonde hair under my nose, breathing in the pleasant floral scent of the shampoo.

“I guess you are starting to double up on everything now,” Lauren said, running her hairbrush through her brown hair a few more times. She pulled the loose hair from the brush and tossed it in the waste bin next to the vanity table. Standing up, she tightened the cord of her pink robe. “There’s always the spare room.”

“You… you want me to—“

“Not you, silly! Your clothes!” Lauren shook her head and rolled her eyes at me.

I took a deep breath, pulling my robe tighter around me. I leaned forward and began to gather up my shopping bags so I could take them through. Lauren placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. Her eyes softened and she stepped across to the dresser, pulling open one of the drawers. She looked down and, after a moment, reached in, pulling out a pile of neatly folded t-shirts.

“I meant Scott’s clothes,” she said, placing them carefully down onto the bed.

* * * * *

Lauren handed me a pile of my boxer briefs and I slipped them into one of the small dresser drawers in the spare room. We did the same with my socks, vests and t-shirts.

“Aww, I miss your geek tees!” Lauren said, unfolding one and holding it up.

“You hate my geek tees!” I laughed and swiped it from her, stuffing it into one of the drawers.

“Hey, be careful with it,” Lauren said, picking it out again and neatly folding it into a square before laying it back in. “I still miss them…”

We opened the wardrobe and Lauren pulled out the hangers, laying them onto the bed. The spare room was smaller and overlooked the front of the house. There was a dresser unit, a single wardrobe, and even a small vanity with its own stool and mirror. The room was plain and unadorned, lacking the same lived-in character that our own bedroom had.

Lauren began to thread pants and shirts onto the hangers, then handed them to me to put in the wardrobe. The room fell strangely silent, just the clicking of the hangers against the rail.

Click. The shirt I’d worn when we’d first stood on the back porch, deciding to put in an offer on the lakehouse.

Click. The long-sleeve top I’d worn on our trip to New York.

Click. The pants I’d been wearing on the day of the incident…

Lauren and I looked at each other for a moment. The wardrobe door finally clicked shut.

* * * * *

We spent a lazy afternoon in our robes, having lunch together on the porch before catching up on the series we’d been following on Netflix. Lauren was a little annoyed that we had to rewatch one of the episodes. The other week my mind had been too busy to take any of it in. Things felt calmer now, or at least steadier, and it boded well for our trip to the cinema later.

We lay on opposite sofas, so we could both see the TV on the wall. Lauren muted the show as the credits rolled on the episode.

“So, anything more you want to tell me about this morning?” Lauren asked, half scrolling on her phone.

I glanced over at her.

“Hey,” Lauren made a little talking gesture with her hand. “We agreed to keep talking to each other, remember?”

“Yeah… right,” I shifted round a little and drew my legs up beside me on the sofa. “Well, Philippa’s still working on it… between her other patients and—“

“Philippa?” Lauren said, raising an eyebrow. She looked up from her phone. “Wait, she’s seeing other patients?”

“Lauren, you should have seen the couple who were in there before me. What she’s doing… it’s important,” I said, casting my mind back.

“You’re important.”

I looked at Lauren from across the lounge, the coffee table sitting between us. “She asked me again. About helping her in the lab,” I said.

Lauren shifted round now to look at me straight on.

“Would… would that be okay?” I asked tentatively.

Lauren took a breath and closed her eyes. “Honey, you don’t have to ask my permission for everything. You can do whatever you feel you need to do.” It seemed like she was reciting the words to herself more than anything. “I just need to know where you are, who you’re with and what you’re doing at all times!” she said, opening her eyes and smiling a little.

“Fair enough!” I laughed. “But seriously, she seemed to genuinely think I might be able to help. I guess… I don’t know, it might help me to feel useful again.”

Lauren nodded at me. “I can understand that. So when would you start?”

“She said I could go in tomorrow,” I said, stroking my hand against my bare calf.

“Oh, right,” Lauren said, seeming surprised.

“That okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… I’ll be starting with Riverside on Monday. I just thought we might get the weekend together.”

“It’ll just be for a few hours,” I said.

“Don’t forget we’ve got Rachel and Emma coming over in the afternoon,” Lauren said, smoothing the hem of her pink robe across her thigh.

“Yeah, I’ll make sure I’m back in plenty of time.”

“Alright then,” Lauren said, then quickly shook her head. “Sorry, I’m doing it again.”

“What?”

“Giving you permission,” she said.

“It’s okay,” I said, “I care what you think.”

Lauren smiled. We sat for a little while longer, content just to be in each other’s company. Lauren scrolled on her phone and I grabbed mine from the coffee table. I tapped on an unread message.

Hey Scott. Saw the new Bellandi film last night. Did you see it yet? The cinematography is excellent. Check out the way he frames the opening scene!”

“Henry texted me,” I said, looking across at Lauren.

“Hmm, does he want to whisk you away for another secret date?” Lauren teased with a broad grin.

“Lauren!”

“Tell him you’ve already got a hot date tonight!” She laughed.

I gave Lauren a look, then glanced back down at my phone. “He’s asking if I saw the movie yet,” I said. “I think this is Henry’s version of an apology.” I set my phone beside me on the sofa.

“Aren’t you going to reply to him?” Lauren asked.

“He can wait,” I said as I stood up. “I’ve got a hot date to get ready for!”

* * * * *

We walked through into the bedroom, both still in our robes. Lauren hesitated, then turned toward me. “I, uh… I think I’d like to get ready on my own,” she said, looking down at me.

“Oh, err… okay,” I said, looking up at her. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it.

“I want to surprise you,” she said softly, reaching up to cup my cheek.

“Okay.” I gave a flicker of a smile. My heart began to beat a little faster. “Well, maybe I’ve got a surprise as well!” I said, sweeping up one of my shopping bags and hugging it to my body.

“What have you got there?” Lauren smiled at me.

“Nothing!” I began to laugh as I held the bag behind me.

“Come on, show me!” Lauren reached round behind me.

“Ah! Get off!”

Lauren resorted to tickling under my arms and I creased up, dropping the bag as I giggled. I stared up at her, my chest rising and falling. “You’ll have to wait,” I said, a little breathlessly.

“Alright, you win,” Lauren said. “I’m going to pop to the bathroom. You grab whatever you need, then you can get ready in the spare room.” She was already making her way down the hall, leaving me alone in the bedroom.

“Why do I have to use the spare room?” I muttered, my hands on my hips.

* * * * *

I put everything I needed into the shopping bag and carried it through to the spare room, humming softly to myself. It felt nice to be making an effort for each other. I unpacked my modest makeup collection and set the items out on the vanity table. It was a much smaller table and mirror compared to what we had in our room. Just enough for an overnight guest to get ready in the morning, though I couldn’t remember the last time someone had stayed over.

I sat on the padded stool and crossed my left leg over my right. I ran my hand across my smooth thigh. I’d given my legs a quick going over with my razor again. I just wanted them to feel extra nice for tonight.

I picked up my tube of concealer and squeezed a small amount onto my index finger. I rubbed the cream in under each eye until the shadows were gone. I turned my face to one side, annoyed to find a blemish on my cheek. I dabbed a little more from the tube, rendering it instantly invisible. This stuff was great! I flicked the cap closed.

I opened the eyeshadow palette that I’d picked up yesterday with Emma. There were six different shades to choose from, but I decided to stick with the rose gold that Emma had used on me. At least then I would have an idea of what to aim for. I swept the applicator across the colour swatch and brought it to my face. Leaning close to the mirror, I closed my left eye and began to lightly apply it to my lid. I remembered how Emma had said to keep it light to begin with, as it was easier to build up than to take away. I noticed it looked a bit messy at the top of my lid, but then remembered I was supposed to blend it in. I turned the applicator over and gently worked it across the harsh edges. The effect was subtle, but added a nice shimmer to my eyelid. I dabbed the applicator back in the rose gold and worked on my right eye in the same way.

Next, I unscrewed the top from my mascara and wiped the excess, before flicking the brush across my lashes. I was getting a little better at it, though my lower lashes still proved annoying. I considered whether to use some makeup remover and try it again, but it would mean having to go back through to the other room. Lauren would be busy getting ready by now. I convinced myself it looked fine. I blinked a couple of times and smiled a little. The darker mascara seemed to outline and complement the soft colour of my eyeshadow.

Finally, I uncapped my pink lipstick and twisted the base. I hovered close to the mirror, pursing my lips a little as I began to smooth it across my upper lip. I followed the arches, then applied an even coat to my lower lip. I drew my lips in and ran them together. The colour was a little bolder than the tinted balm I’d been using, but it wasn’t too over the top, and it went nicely with my eye makeup.

My face now looked more vibrant... prettier, I thought, and I let the word sit with me for a moment. And it wasn’t just the makeup. I’d indulged in some prettier underwear as well. I carefully laid out my new black bra and matching thong onto the spare bed, my fingers lingering on the lace edging for a moment. Emma had reassured me that I didn’t need to worry about it, as long as I liked it. And I did like it. I was just used to seeing this sort of thing on Lauren, rather than on me.

I stood up and untied my plush white robe. I slipped it from my shoulders and hung it on the back of the door. My bare breasts shifted as I leaned down to pick up the lacy thong. I held the spidery, thin fabric out with my fingers and stepped into the leg openings. I drew it up my smooth legs, up toward my waist. I immediately felt the creeping of the thin fabric between my buttocks as the delicate lace fabric settled against my body. I smoothed the waistband and stepped over in front of the longer mirror that hung on the wall. I could see how the thong tightly followed the inward slope of my body, though the panel across my crotch was narrower than what I was used to, making me glad that I’d shaved a little closer down there today. The lace patterning across the waistband was especially nice. I turned around and looked over my shoulder at the rear view. My butt was on full display, framed across the top by more of the lace detailing. It felt both soft and uncomfortable.

I took a breath, then picked up the matching bra, threading my arms through the shoulder straps and scooping my boobs into the cups. Reaching behind me, I fastened it, feeling it pull taut and lift my breasts. Adjusting the cups, I realised there must have been a little extra padding, because suddenly I had a rounder, fuller cleavage than I’d had with any of my other bras.

I stepped back, taking in more of my reflection in the mirror. My matching lacy underwear certainly looked sexy, even if I wasn’t especially feeling it. Then my mind began to race. Who was I trying to look sexy for? It wasn’t like Lauren was going to see any of this. Well, not until we got ready for bed. And then what would she think? Or was I just dressing like this for myself? And if I was, why did I not feel how I thought I should feel?

“Uhh!” I groaned in frustration as I stared up at the ceiling.

I reached back down to the shopping bag, pulling out my latest purchase. After Emma had caught wind that Lauren and I were going out on a date, she’d insisted we go back and buy something special for it. The dusty blue dress unfurled as I held it up against my body. I looked down at the little cream flowers that decorated the fabric. Emma had convinced me that if I was happy wearing a skirt, then why not a dress? At least I wasn’t going to have to worry about what top I was going to wear with it. I unzipped it at the back, but paused wondering whether I was supposed to step into it, or pull it over my head. I settled on the latter, threading my arms through the thin shoulder straps and letting it fall down over my body. I was dressed in a matter of seconds, my underwear hidden from view, if not from thought. Maybe there was something to this dress business after all. Then I discovered the downside, as I struggled to reach the tiny dangling zipper at my back. I staggered about the room, contorting my arms in ways I didn’t think were possible. I made some progress, then finally, after dipping my arm straight back past my shoulder, I managed to wriggle it up the rest of the way. I was almost out of breath as I tugged on the fabric and adjusted the neckline to straighten everything out.

The dress was fitted at my waist, and followed the curve of my breasts, the neckline just low enough to show my fuller cleavage. The hem flared out from my waist to my knees, and I found myself trying in vain to flatten it out. I looked in the mirror, noticing that when I turned at the waist, the skirt of the dress followed a fraction of a second after. I wondered whether it looked a little too much, and whether this had been another one of Emma’s jokes.

I grabbed my phone from the dresser and brought up the camera. Stepping up to the mirror, I placed one hand awkwardly on my hip and took a quick snap. I smoothed the back of my dress with one hand and sat on the edge of the bed. I brought up my contacts and tapped into the search:

Ems.

My thumbnails tapped against the screen as I typed.

”Does this look okay? It’s not too fifties, is it?”

I hit send. I was about to put my phone down when I saw the Emma is typing message flash at the bottom of the screen.

“Hey Susie! It’s called vintage, hon. And you look fucking gorgeous. So annoying!”

I stared at the message. I couldn’t remember ever being called fucking gorgeous before. I smiled and sent a love heart back to her.

Remember, I want ALL the details later!” she added.

I leaned forward and slid the shopping bag toward me, pulling out my new tan sandals. I set them down in front of me and slipped my bare feet into them. I fastened the tiny ankle straps and stared down, wiggling my toes. I could feel the lift from the one-inch heels, but they had been easy to get used to when I’d tried them on yesterday.

I moved back over to the vanity and picked up my hairbrush. I ran it through my hair a few times, wondering whether I should tie it back. Looking in the mirror, I reached up, sweeping my hair back behind my head, trying to imagine what it would look like shorter. I sighed and released it, letting it fall back over my shoulders. Finally, I picked up my wedding ring necklace and fastened it behind my neck. I straightened it and let it settle above the swell of my cleavage.

As I moved toward the door, I paused, caught by my reflection. By my eye makeup and lipstick. By my dusty blue floral dress and tan sandals. And the knowledge of the lacy lingerie hidden beneath. I fought with the urge to scrub everything off, to pull off my dress and retreat into the comfort of a pair of leggings. I drew a deep breath and looked my reflection square in the eye.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

* * * * *

I sat in the lounge, toying with my necklace as I waited for Lauren. I seemed to take up more space now, my skirt fanning out either side of me on the sofa. As the minutes passed, I wondered whether I should have made more of an effort, given how long Lauren seemed to be taking. I heard her before I saw her, her high heels clicking against the stairs.

I rose to my feet. Lauren looked over at me, her face lighting up as she walked down the last few steps. She looked stunning. Her makeup was expertly applied and her red lips shined. She wore her hair up, with a few curling strands hanging down to frame her face. Her emerald green dress was striking, bolder than what she would normally wear. It looked to be a wrap style with a cord dangling at her side. The neckline plunged in a V-shape and she wore a necklace along with matching bracelets and a pair of silver earrings. Her legs were clad in shining silk, her hips jutting as she made her way over.

Our hands clasped, unable to hide our shared enthusiasm.

“You look beautiful,” I said, beaming at her.

“You look so pretty!” Lauren said, looking at me in wonder. “When did you get this?” Her hands came down to my sides as she took in the sight of me in my new dress.

“Yesterday. Emma helped me pick it out. I, uh... I wanted to look nice for you,” I said, still feeling a little awkward about it.

“I love it!” Lauren said. “Come on, give me a twirl!”

She stepped back and I pivoted on my feet, turning all the way round, the hem of my dress fanning and following after me. I stopped and smiled, reaching to feel the fabric of Lauren’s own dress. “I really like yours too,” I said.

“Thanks honey, I’ve had this a while, but I don’t think I ever got around to wearing it before,” she said.

We stepped over to the kitchen counter, standing side-by-side as we started to get our purses ready.

“We better get a move on, I don’t want to miss the trailers,” I said, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

“You and your trailers. I swear you enjoy them more than the actual movies!” Lauren said, as she dropped her lipstick into her purse.

“Well… sometimes!” I replied, shrugging. “Oh, I think you’ve got mine.”

“Hmm?” Lauren checked her bag and pulled the lipstick back out. “Oh! Sorry... here.” She handed it to back to me.

I picked up Lauren’s red lipstick and swapped with her. “What shade is that?” I asked. “It looks good on you.”

“Ruby Woo,” Lauren said, holding it up for me. “I think it’d suit you too. Blondes and red were made for each other.”

We both applied our own perfume, the air smelling like a sweet bouquet as our scents mixed. I then spent a moment swapping over my cards to my new lavender-coloured embroidered wallet. It felt strange coming across my driver’s licence, as I paused to look down at the man in the photo. I smiled to myself, wondering what he would have to say about me going on a date with his wife.

* * * * *

By the time we’d driven into town and parked up, the sun was getting low in the sky. The pedestrian street glowed with the lantern-style lights strung overhead. The last of the shoppers were going home with full bags, while the first of the evening crowd were starting to fill up the outdoor seating areas of the bars and restaurants. Music and chatter spilled out onto the street either side of us.

Our heels clicked together as we walked, dresses swaying at our knees, purses bouncing gently at our hips. I looked up at Lauren and she smiled back at me. Without either of us saying anything we found ourselves linking arms. The glances from passers-by that I now invited, simply by virtue of being a woman, seemed to bother me less this evening, and I even smiled back on occasion.

“The film’s got an eighty-six percent Rotten Tomatoes score,” I said excitedly as we approached the cinema. “I’ve tried not to read any of the reviews, thought it’s pretty hard to avoid them on Letterboxd. Henry said the cinematography was outstanding and—”

Lauren laughed.

“What is it?” I asked as we paused outside the cinema, the glass windows glowing from within.

“Nothing,” Lauren said, turning to face me. “Well, it’s just... you sound like you.”

“You mean I don’t when we’re talking about dresses and lipstick?” I smiled knowingly.

“Ha! Well, it’s certainly new!” Lauren reached for the door, holding it open for me. “Ladies first,” she said, gesturing.

“Thank you.” I walked past her, bathed in the bright lights of the cinema.

* * * * *

The refurbished interior had been given a faux Art Deco makeover, making it feel like the classic cinemas of yesteryear. I gazed around, my eyes wide, unable to keep myself from smiling. Lauren had to pull me to one side as another couple of women entered through the door behind us.

“Hey, do you want some popcorn?” Lauren asked, already heading over toward the concessions counter.

“What do you think?” I replied with a smile. The smell of the popcorn was one of my favourite parts of the cinema-going experience. It had the ability to instantly transport me back to the Sunday afternoon trips to the cinema that my dad would take me to when I was a kid.

Dad.

I wondered what he would have made of all this. My eyes drifted upward to the high ceiling.

Well, you’d always wanted a daughter.

I knew that my parents had tried to have another baby after me, but fate had stepped in and I was destined to remain an only child. Suddenly I found myself thinking about what Doctor Hartwell was trying to do. For people like that young couple this morning. For people like my parents.

Lauren returned with the popcorn, a large soda and two straws. We walked through to where a young woman was checking tickets. She was dressed smartly in a white shirt, black pants and black waistcoat. I reached into my purse for my phone and brought up the QR code on my app. She scanned it and smiled at us both.

“Enjoy the movie!” she said as I noticed her eyes flick downward. “Oh, I love your dress!”

“Uh, thanks!” I said, my cheeks warming a little from the compliment.

“Do you mind me asking where you got it?”

“Oh, it’s from the department store across the street,” I replied. “They had it in cream as well.”

“Oh, thanks! I’ll definitely have to take a look.” The woman’s customer service smile gave way to a broader, more genuine smile.

* * * * *

We shuffled along in the dark toward our seats. I always insisted on the premium seats, though Lauren thought it a waste of money. I sat down, feeling glad that I had a little extra space for my dress, which seemed determined to spread out under me. The cool air conditioning made me feel a little too cold and I rubbed at my bare arms.

“Here,” Lauren said, handing me the popcorn before smoothing her emerald dress and sitting down next to me. “And save some for me, you always eat it too fast!”

“Mmm?” I murmured, as I stuffed a handful into my mouth.

Before long the lights dimmed, our phones were put away in our purses, and I’d eaten entirely too much popcorn during the trailers. Lauren looked across at me, smiling. She tapped my knee as the film began to roll.

Henry had been right. This was a gorgeous looking film. I found myself wondering which type of lens they’d used for the opening shot. It wasn’t long before I had the opening lines for a particularly pretentious Letterboxd review.

An hour passed. Maybe more. The popcorn had been set aside, the soda had been finished. I gazed up at the screen. Ella, the heroine of the story, filled the frame and I could see every decision, every flicker of emotion cross her face.

George was kind to her and I could see the affection and love in her eyes when she spoke about him. I liked George. It was easy to see why they’d been together for so long.

Then there was Sam. I didn’t trust Sam. Sam was entirely too good looking to be a real-life guy who worked for an insurance firm.

Ella looked up at Sam as his arm wrapped her waist, pulling her into him. I sighed and shook my head at this new turn of events. She was making a bad decision. I crossed my legs, smoothing my skirt over my knees. I folded my arms, still a little too cold and wishing I had thought to bring a cardigan.

The cinema auditorium seemed to fall silent, people suddenly stopped rustling and chewing, and not a single phone screen was lit up.

Ella looked confused, as if she wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but she made no attempt to stop it either. Her eyes darted as she stared up at Sam. Sam’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing softly before capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She seemed to melt into him.

I unfolded my arms, resting them on the arms of the seat.

Ella and Sam stumbled through into the bedroom, falling back onto the bed. Her eyes searched his, her breathing had changed and she sought out his touch.

I cleared my throat and recrossed my legs, feeling suddenly too warm. Maybe they’d finally thought to turn off the A/C.

I watched as Ella responded to even the gentlest touch, sighing softly.

I flexed my fingers, realising I’d been gripping the arms of the seat a little too tightly. I took a deep breath through my nose, my chest rising and falling.

A faint tingling sensation began to build between my legs.

No… Uh-uh. This isn’t happening. Not here.

I glanced over at Lauren but her gaze was fixed on the screen. When I looked away, I thought I caught her looking back at me out of the corner of my eye. I focused on the screen, trying to stave off… whatever this was.

Ella’s eyes closed and a short gasp escaped her lips. Her back arched in response as she became lost in the moment.

My thighs reflexively squeezed together and I felt a flushing warmth begin to spread.

This was ridiculous! It’s just a film!

I uncrossed my legs, but the sensation of my smooth thighs sliding against each other only seemed to make things worse.

Ella moaned on the screen above us, unable to control herself… No, she was choosing to let go.

I placed a hand against my forehead, partly to try and get a hold of myself, and partly to stop myself from looking over at Lauren. The tingling between my legs resulted in another flushing sensation that had me worried I’d wet myself or something. I glanced down, checking my skirt, just in case.

Why was my body doing this now?

Ella’s bad decision reached a crescendo and she was left panting… and smiling.

The scene shifted, and I slunk down in my seat, my body more reluctant to simply move on. Gradually, the cinema seemed to breathe again. Popcorn was crunched. Drinks were slurped, and yes, even the annoying phone screens lit up as people couldn’t seem to go five minutes without checking for missed messages. That particular pet peeve of mine seemed to have done the trick, as I rubbed at my arms, feeling the coldness in the air again. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal, but I was still left with an uncomfortable cool dampness between my thighs.

* * * * *

Lauren pulled the convertible into the parking lot of The Boathouse. It was dark now, with just a dim glow on the horizon from the setting sun. The restaurant looked more impressive at night, lit up from within, and with rows of soft lighting illuminating the surrounding flowerbeds and pathways that led down toward the lakeside.

“I just don’t understand why she would give up everything she had with George,” I said.

“Are you still going on about the film?” Lauren said, leaning over the steering wheel as she searched for a parking space.

“Over there. Someone’s leaving,” I said, pointing.

“Sam was something shiny and new for her, that’s all,” Lauren said, driving into the space in one smooth manoeuvre. She applied the handbrake and killed the engine.

I pulled down the passenger visor, checking myself in the mirror, then reached into my purse for my pink lipstick. “What was she thinking?” I pursed my lips, smoothing more of the colour across my upper and lower lips.

“That’s the point, she wasn’t,” Lauren said, grabbing her purse from next to my feet. “Men think with their dicks. And sometimes women think with their pussies.”

Lauren’s choice of word stopped me in my tracks. Was that what I had been doing? Maybe I’d just got swept up in the story. Maybe somewhere along the way I’d started imagining myself as Sam in the scene. In any case, it hadn’t felt like there’d been much thought involved. Things had just kind of… happened. Mercifully, Lauren hadn’t noticed anything, or if she had, she’d chosen to keep it to herself.

Lauren searched her purse, finding her own compact mirror to check herself. She wiped her little finger at a stray fleck of mascara. “Ready?” she asked. I nodded and we got out, walking slowly together, the neon sign above the doorway welcoming us.

“I think I’ll have the fish… ooh, or the steak,” I said.

“How can you still be hungry after all that popcorn? I swear I only got one handful out of it!” Lauren said, smiling. She held the door open for me and I slipped through into The Boathouse. After my lunchtime meet up with Henry, it looked like a totally different restaurant. The lighting was low and soft jazz music mixed with the lower murmur of conversations and the clink of glassware. Nearly all the tables were arranged for couples, with white tablecloths and candles in the centre.

“Hello, ladies!” The host looked up from behind the host stand. He beamed as he looked at us both in turn. “Have you got a reservation with us this evening?”

“Yes, under Carter?” Lauren said, stepping forward, her high heels clicking against the wooden flooring.

He checked down his list with a finger. “Oh yes, Carter, here we are.” He looked back over his shoulder. “We’re just getting the table ready, but you’re welcome to go to the bar and get a drink.”

As we walked toward the bar together, I glanced over, seeing the booth that Henry and I had sat in the other day. The bar was busier today too and we had to wait to be served.

“I need to go pee,” Lauren said, touching my arm. “Do you mind ordering the drinks?”

“I don’t mind,” I said, shrugging. Lauren hurried off in the direction of the toilets, suddenly looking desperate. I’d made a beeline to the ladies straight after the film had finished. Partly to check I still looked presentable after—

“Oh hey, the vagina lady!” the bartender said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wh-what?” I stammered, looking around me, but no-one else was close enough to have overheard.

“Don’t worry, we’ve all stopped talking about it now,” he said, as he cleared a couple of used glasses from the counter. He paused and thought for a moment. “Well, mostly.”

“Oh god!” I groaned, slipping onto a bar stool and covering my face in my hands. It all came flooding back — my loud outburst to Henry before I’d stormed out.

“What can I get you?”

“Doo whf whns...” I said into my hands.

“I didn’t catch that,” the bartender said, chuckling.

“Two white wines,” I said, emerging finally, my cheeks still feeling like they were burning.

“Large or small?”

“Uh, small...” I said, remembering that one of us would need to drive home. I watched as he opened a new bottle and poured. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days as he had a line of dark stubble across his chin. He also had his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing the dark hair on his thick forearms. I found myself looking down at my own bared slender arms. They looked like thin twigs in comparison. Maybe I did need to get down the gym with Lauren.

The bartender put the two glasses down in front of me. I reached into my purse for my phone.

“So is your boyfriend with you tonight?” he said, his gaze dipping for a moment as I tapped my phone against the card reader.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, self-consciously tugging on the neckline of my dress.

“Oh... good,” he said quietly, leaning against the bar.

I could feel myself growing more flustered and irritated by the second. I grabbed one of the glasses and took a large gulp of wine.

“Hey,” Lauren said as she approached. I felt a wave of relief.

“Oh, and who’s your lovely friend?” the bartender said, his eyes sweeping Lauren.

“She’s not my friend… she’s my wife,” I said, slipping my arm around Lauren’s waist.

“Oh!” Lauren jumped a little, turning her head to look at me, her eyes wide.

“Oh... right!” It was the bartender’s turn to be embarrassed. He held up his hands apologetically. “Damn... why is it always the cute ones?”

A server walked over to us. He was younger, slender and looked immaculate, like he’d spent as long getting ready as we had. “Hello girls, welcome!” he said in a high-set, cheerful voice. “Well, don’t you two look fabulous this evening!” His gaze swept down to take in our outfits, though unlike the bartender, there wasn’t anything lecherous about it. “I’m loving your whole vibe,” he said gesturing. I realised I still had my arm around Lauren’s waist. “My name is Leon, and I’ll be your server this evening, if you’d like to step this way.”

Leon seemed to sashay as he walked ahead of us, taking us through the glass door that led out onto the veranda at the rear. We each held our wine glasses, dresses bouncing at our knees. I let my free hand hover at the small of Lauren’s back as we stepped out.

“Here you are, the best seats in the house — very romantic!” Leon winked at us. “Are you girls celebrating anything in particular tonight?”

“Er, well nothing really,” I said, smiling, finding myself caught up in his infectious energy.

“Just a special treat then?” he said as we walked across the wooden decked veranda. “Well, why not? You’ve earned it, right?”

“Yeah… yeah we have,” I said, smiling back at Lauren. The night was warm still, and the veranda was elegantly arranged with more candlelit tables. The vast lake beyond rippled and glistened in the moonlight, the mountains in the distance only visible as dark shadows now.

Leon pulled our seats out for us in turn. I smoothed the back of my dress and sat, and Lauren did the same.

“Are you from out of town, or are you local?” Leon asked as he handed us each a menu.

“Out of town,” I said at the exact same time that Lauren said “local”.

Leon laughed. “Oh, well you better try and agree on that!” he said. “Listen, you don’t have to worry around here.” His voice softened now, and he placed a hand on the back of Lauren’s chair. “This is a pretty easy-going town. We’ve got Pride next month, and that’s always really popular.”

“Uh, that’s good to know,” Lauren said, looking down and arranging her knife and fork on the table.

“I’ll let you two have a look at the menu.” Leon smiled and turned on his heel.

Lauren and I stared at each other for a moment, then broke into shared laughter.

“This is nice,” I said, looking to my left at the twinkling lake.

“Yeah, it is,” Lauren said, reaching across the table for my hand. She held it, rubbing her thumb affectionately against the back of my hand.

Lauren, lit by the candle on the table, looked stunning. It brought to mind all our memories, all our holidays together. Even our wedding day, standing opposite her, clasping hands as we made our vows. I opened my mouth to say something, but Lauren beat me to it.

“You look beautiful,” she said, her eyes studying my face with a similar scrutiny.

“Oh, I was just going to—“

“Let me take a photo,” Lauren said, reaching down for her purse. She pulled out her phone and held it up.

“Uh, okay…” I said, as I looked down. I tugged on the neckline of my dress and straightened my wedding ring on its chain. I smoothed out my hair, so it hung over my shoulders. I looked back up and smiled .

Snap.

“Let me see,” I said, leaning forward. Lauren held her phone screen toward me, and I held her wrist to steady it.

“Happy?” Lauren asked.

“I suppose it’s okay,” I said, seeing that my makeup and hair actually looked half-decent, even if my dress looked a bit too ‘booby’.

Lauren looked down at the photo, smiling. She drew a contented breath and tucked her phone back away into her purse.

“I’m glad we moved out here,” I said, toying with my hair. The stars were out, twinkling against the dark sky, as if they were competing for the Moon’s attention.

“Me too,” Lauren said. “This is where I got my husband back after—“

“I know…” I said, reaching for her hand again. I knew what she meant. Before we moved out here. Before Axis Labs. I’d lost my job and she’d watched me become a shell of who I was. In her words she’d lost me. Then out here in the lakes, we rebuilt, we recovered. And then this happened.

“Lauren, do you remember… a couple weeks back,” I began, looking down at our clasped hands. “You said sometimes you saw me. And other times you saw… a stranger.” I looked up at her. “Do you still think that?”

Lauren’s eyes softened and she looked almost apologetic. She went to say something when Leon stepped back over.

“Hi girls, have you decided what you’d like?” he asked, clapping his hands together.

“Oh, sorry! We’ve not looked yet!” I said, quickly picking up the menu. Lauren did the same. Leon went over to another table while we both struggled to concentrate on the task of choosing something.

“I didn’t bring my glasses, I can barely read this!” Lauren said, squinting. “Have they got a risotto?”

“Uh, yeah… it’s at the bottom,” I said.

I settled on the steak, too preoccupied to think about it any further. Leon finally circled back round and took our order. I watched for a moment as he effortlessly worked between the tables, taking orders, checking how everything was. People’s faces lit up when he spoke to them. He seemed to have a natural talent for making everyone feel special.

“No,” Lauren said, and my gaze returned to her.

“What?”

“No, I don’t see a stranger when I look at you,” Lauren said, quietly, the din of the other tables almost drowning out her words.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Lauren toyed with the stem of her wine glass.

“But…”. She searched my face. “You’re not exactly the Scott I married either,” she said, looking almost pained to say it.

I felt my heart sink. I looked down, sweeping my hands across my dusty blue dress.

“I shouldn’t have bought this…” I said my voice wavering.

“It’s not the dress… “ Lauren said, her own eyes glistening in the candlelight. “It’s not even your body. You’ve… changed.”

“I’m going to need more than that Lauren, changed how?” I could feel my lower lip trembling.

“Take tonight… I could see the way the movie was affecting you,” she said.

“Wh-what do you mean?” I felt my cheeks flush red.

“You were almost crying by the end,” Lauren said. I breathed out, relieved that she hadn’t said what I thought she was going to say. “The old Scott would have been talking about… about the blocking or something, and I still don’t even know what that is. You… you let Emma start calling you Susie, I mean… what am I supposed to think about that?”

“I… didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” I said, staring into my wine glass.

“It’s your name. I mean… do you… do you want me to start calling you that?” Lauren tilted her head as the question hung between us.

“I… I just need a moment,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I picked up my purse and sniffed, wiping at the corner of my eye. Lauren looked to be about to say something, but hesitated. I turned, hurrying down the steps at the edge of the veranda, making my way down the lit pathway that led to the edge of the lake.

* * * * *

I stood at the shore of the vast lake, far enough away from The Boathouse that I was surrounded by the darkness, with only the moonlight picking up the edges of the trees and the lapping water that almost reached to my feet. A gentle breeze swept across the openness, lifting my hair.

“Scott?” Lauren called from behind me, as I heard her heels clicking down the path. I turned just as she stepped onto the loose gravel, her ankle buckling beneath her. “Oh, shit!”

I found myself smiling and stepped back over to help steady her. She placed a hand on my shoulder as I held her arm.

“Please don’t run off like that, you scared me,” Lauren said.

“I’m sorry,” I said, flatly.

We walked together, back to the edge of the lake. The Moon shone above us and we both found ourselves gazing up.

“You know the Moon always keeps the same side to us,” I said, as we stood together. “There’s a whole side to it that we never get to see.”

“I think I understand,” Lauren said, looking across at me in the darkness. “So, are you saying this part of you was always there… just… hidden?”

I turned to face her now, reaching for both her hands. “Honestly? I don’t know. This was what Doctor Hartwell was getting at this morning. We don’t really know how much of this is new.”

“Listen, I love Scott,” Lauren said, taking a deep breath. “I love the man I exchanged my vows with.” She squeezed both of my hands, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “But I love you as well. Just as you are now.” She reached up, clasping my cheek. I could feel my heartbeat beginning to race. “You’re funny… you’re kind… the way you are with other people… with Emma… it’s lovely.” She reached up, tucking a strand of blonde hair back behind my ear. “And you’re pretty too,” she said softly.

I leaned in, bringing my lips to hers. My hands trembled as they rested on her waist. Our lips moved together, softly, slowly. Tentative. Exploratory. Just as my own self-consciousness threatened to pull me out of the moment, it was over. I leaned my head against Lauren’s shoulder and I felt her take a deep breath beside me.

We stood in silence, listening to the sound of the water and the breeze in the trees.

“Still hungry?” Lauren asked at last.

“Starving!” I said, smiling.

* * * * *

We stepped back through into the lake-house, our shoes clacking and clicking together, skirts swaying at our knees.

“Did you see Leon’s face when he saw how much you tipped?” I said, as we put our purses down.

“He deserved it,” Lauren said. “He made the night!”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing over at her.

“I waited tables when I was at business school. It’s not easy,” she said. “But it’s rewarding as well. I enjoyed it.”

We both gave an over-the-top sigh as we slipped our shoes off, making each other smile.

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked, padding barefoot over to the kitchen and opening a cupboard.

“Actually… I’m kind of beat,” Lauren said, stretching her arms out. “I was hoping we could just go up.”

“Oh… sure, okay.” I closed the cupboard again.

We went upstairs, Lauren walking ahead of me, her hips twitching from side to side under her emerald wrap dress. Entering the bedroom, she flicked on the bedside lamps, while I went over and drew the blinds. Lauren slipped off her bracelets and reached to unclasp her necklace. She then unclipped each of her silver earrings in turn.

“They’re nice,” I said, watching as she placed them in a dish on the vanity table.

“Thanks. You got them for me for my birthday a couple of years ago,” Lauren said, pulling the clips from her hair and shaking it free.

“I did?”

“Yeah. I had to tell you what to get, of course!” she said, smiling. I laughed and I unclasped my wedding ring necklace, setting it down carefully next to Lauren’s jewellery.

Lauren reached for the cord of her wrap dress, fumbling a little with the knot. She looked back at me. “I, uh… I can’t do this. Can you help me?”

“Oh, sure,” I said, taking a step toward her. She held her arms up a little as I brought my hands to her waist. The knot was tied simply and I unthreaded it easily. “What was the problem exactly?” I asked. Lauren’s dress parted in the middle, falling open. She stood there looking at me, saying nothing.

My gaze drifted over the smoothness of her body. She wore lacy wine-coloured lingerie beneath and I could now see the black lacy tops of her hold-up stockings.

“Do you like it?” she asked, softly.

“Uh, yes… it’s very pretty, I—“

“I wore it for you,” she said, her fingers stroking lightly against my bare arm. She slid her shoulders slowly out of her dress, keeping her gaze fixed on me. It fell to her feet with a flicker of emerald. As I glanced down at her body I felt my cheeks flush.

“Do you still like seeing me in stockings?” she asked, brushing a strand of my blonde hair back behind my ear.

“Y—yes,” I answered. My gaze fell to her chest, which rose and fell rapidly, and when I looked up at her, I noticed something else. She looked nervous.

Lauren cleared her throat, whispering, “Turn around.”

I turned, a little too quickly. I felt awkward, like I suddenly didn’t know how to behave. I swept my hair forward as I felt Lauren’s fingers find the zip of my dress. She slowly pulled it down. I felt the tension around my waist ease, causing me to exhale. Lauren stepped back and I let the dress drop to my feet.

“Wow,” Lauren said, seeing me from behind in just my black lacy bra and thong. “Did you wear this for me?”

“Yes,” I whispered over my shoulder, even though I was fairly certain I’d worn it for me.

I turned back around, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. Lauren’s fingers entwined with mine. “Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded, trembling. “I think so,” I said, looking up at her. “You?”

“I think so,” she said and took a deep breath.

Lauren went to cup my cheek, just as I went to do the same, our arms knocking together. We laughed nervously, and I rearranged myself, settling my hands on her hips instead. Lauren’s thumb stroked across my jawline, then gently tilted my chin up.

Our lips met again and my eyes closed. It was just as soft and tender as before. It felt different to kissing Lauren as a man, my lips were fuller and we fit together now in a different way. Lauren’s hands slid down my back and our bodies pressed together, our breasts pushing between us. Our lips wetly parted and Lauren drew in a deep breath. I did the same, realising we’d both forgotten to breathe.

“I ruined your lipstick,” Lauren said, wiping at the corner of my mouth with her thumb.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, gazing into her eyes.

“Do you want to… lie down?” Lauren asked, lowering her gaze for a moment.

“Okay,” I said, my voice cracking and barely audible above the sound of my heartbeat.

Lauren took my hand, guiding me toward the bed. She slid back onto it, her stocking covered legs shining under the soft light of the bedside lamps. I clambered onto the bed, a little less elegant, feeling my thong riding up.

We settled on our sides, facing each other. I let my hand trace along Lauren’s shoulder, down the length of her arm, finding her fingers. She watched me, curious, but I could feel the soft tremble in her own body.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “We... we don’t have to, if you just want—”

“Scott, shhh,” she said, covering my mouth with hers. I whimpered against her, feeling a new urgency from her now. I felt the flick of her tongue across my pink lips and I parted them a little. Our tongues teased and danced around each other.

I let my left hand slide to Lauren’s back, finding the clasp of her bra, releasing it. Lauren opened her eyes, smiling warmly. “Still better at undoing them than putting them on,” she teased, despite the tremor in her voice. She slid out of the shoulder straps and I pulled the bra from her body.

My gaze drifted to the curve of her bared breasts. I cupped one in my palm, more out of habit. Lauren’s were a similar size and shape to my own. We’d been sharing the same bras... Maybe the novelty had worn off. Lauren flinched as I touched her, making me pause, scanning her face.

“It... it’s okay,” Lauren said. I stroked carefully, my thumb rolling around her nipple. She closed her eyes, exhaling through her mouth. I sat up for a moment, reaching behind to unclasp my own bra. I peeled it from my body, my breasts shifting on my chest with my movements. I settled back beside Lauren. She glanced down at my chest, seeming unsure. I took her hand in mine, placing it against me. She took a breath, letting her hand sit for a moment. I could feel the warmth of her palm. Slowly, she started to trace my curves with her fingertips. My back arched a little — feeling a sort of ticklish yearning to be touched. She soon stopped, her cheeks flushing, and instead we hugged tighter, feeling the mingling warmth of our breasts.

I stroked my hand through her hair, and she turned her face to kiss at my palm. She took my hand in hers, guiding it lower, to her thigh. I grazed the silky fabric of her stocking covered leg, remembering how this would drive me wild. I’d feel that rush of blood. That urgency to be inside of her. But now, I felt like we were hurtling toward something that I could no longer deliver.

I kissed her deeply, but I sensed I was trying to buy myself some more time. I’d never been this caught up in my own head before. I didn’t even have the heat I’d felt at the cinema to reassure me that things were happening as they were supposed to with my new body.

I let my fingers glide along the inside of Lauren’s thigh, reaching the lacy top of her stocking. I’d half expected her to stop me, but her legs parted just a little further. My hand slid further, feeling that extra soft, extra supple flesh of her upper leg. I inverted my palm, gingerly placing it against her through the fabric of her panties.

She cleared her throat, looking me in the eye, nodding just a little to tell me it was okay, though she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I began to lightly massage her there. She exhaled, almost blowing out to steady herself. Her tongue swept reflexively across her dry lips.

“Oh!” I gasped a little, more out of surprise, as Lauren quickly brought her hand between my legs. It was like she’d suddenly forced herself to do it.

We gazed into each other’s eyes, our hands moving, naturally falling into the same rhythm. I could feel the sensitivity, the tenderness of my new sex under Lauren’s palm, and I almost willed it to come alive for her. Lauren had closed her eyes now, and it was like she had taken herself somewhere else. I watched as her breathing changed, becoming shallower. I began to feel her warmth under my hand.

I closed my own eyes now, trying not to think, to focus on the sensations instead. I let my hand slip under the waistband of Lauren’s underwear, dipping down, finding her slick and warm.

“Mmm,” Lauren purred, her hips moving, pushing a little into my palm. I opened my eyes for a second, seeing that hers remained closed.

Lauren’s own hand slid past my panties, her fingers grazing my new soft folds. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I found myself thinking of the dark of the cinema, the glow of the screen. I thought of Ella, the heroine, and the way she responded to Sam’s touch. It was like she’d been swept away by her body, by his touch. It was so effortless. She breathed, she writhed, she moaned.

“Uhh!” The utterance came freely and unexpectedly past my lips, surprising me enough that my eyes flicked open. Lauren was staring at me as she withdrew her hand, just as I’d started to find the tingling heat I had been searching for.

“Are you... are you okay?” I asked a little breathlessly, sitting up, my bare breasts shifting.

“I... I’m sorry... “ Lauren’s lip trembled, her eyes glistening. “I thought I could do this.”

“Hey, hey... it’s okay,” I said, quickly holding her.

“This... this is all new for me,” she said, sobbing a little and reaching for my hand. “I want to do this... for us. I’m sorry Scott, we can try again, I just need... we’ll try again.”

I took a deep breath, the warmth between my legs cooling just as quickly as it had arrived. “No. It... it’s not just you. Something wasn’t right with me either,” I said. We held each other in silence, my hand softly stroking through Lauren’s hair. “It was like I was trying to remember what I was supposed to be doing. What I was supposed to be feeling.”

“We’ll get there,” Lauren said at last, and for a moment she sounded confident, before adding, “won’t we?”

“Yes... yes of course,” I said, kissing her forehead.

I lost track of how long we lay there in each other’s arms. Finally we disentangled ourselves and got up, both of us wiping at our eyes. We spent a few minutes changing out of our lingerie and into our sleepwear. I held the wicker laundry basket open as Lauren collected up our underwear, along with her stockings, dropping them in.

We reached to our bedside tables, flicking the lights off, before pulling the sheets over us. Lauren curled onto her side and whispered over her shoulder.

“Hold me.”

I wrapped my arm around her the best I could, spooning tightly behind her. Her hand reached back for mine.

“I love you, Lauren,” I said, kissing the back of her neck.

“I love you too—“ She seemed to cut herself off before saying my name.

I listened to the sound of her breathing, feeling the rise and fall of her body. I felt determined to watch over her until she fell asleep. Despite the skylight window above us, the bedroom fell into a quiet darkness. The Moon must have hidden itself away behind the clouds.

* * * * *